The previous installment of this review was about seven hundred words and covered only the title of Kelso’s EP “Always a Godmother, Never a God.” This installment will cover the first two tracks from the EP: “I’m Okay, Life Goes on, I Don’t Mind” and “Sorry I Told You to Go to Hell.”
The first song on Kelso’s EP is titled “I’m Okay, Life Goes on, I Don’t Mind.” This statement of emotional resignation is both a proclamation to somebody as well as a personal mantra. It absolves the subject of guilt or wrong-doing and pushes its speaker towards wholeness. It implies that something bad has happened and has already begun to be dealt with. This EP begins in media res, the beginning of this emotional journey far behind us and its conclusion nowhere in sight. The track undulates, as the whole project will, between strong statements of content and shaky divulgences of concern. Take the first verse and the first bridge of this song for example.
“I’m at the top of city apartments the skyline shines gold and black / I feel nothing for it ‘cause I feel nothing looking back”.
The bridge begins, almost comically, on the other end of the emotional spectrum with the lines “I still get overly emotional when I see that skyline over i-95 / I still get overly emotional sometimes.” In this song, the speaker goes on to explain how they aren’t ready for a relationship yet, that they need to stop tripping over their own feet before they are capable of committing to someone else. That cognizance informs the melancholy of the whole song, a melancholy which stems from acute desire. The outro epitomizes this painful humanity perfectly in its paradoxical balance between the lyrics, “No one will ever want this like I do” and “I hope that they love you like I do.”
The second track, “Sorry I Told You to Go to Hell,” is far less absolute in its tone than its title would have you believe. In many ways, this song feels like the final apology between Kelso and their subject. The song is stacked with admissions of guilt and criticisms, both direct and backhanded. The central conceit of this track is that of structure: freedom versus constraint, finishing school versus playing in a band, the use of drugs and alcohol versus sobriety. The idea of what is good versus what is right and the entanglement of that metaphysical debate underscore both the apology and the track. The title of the song is an apology, but the line in the song which more fully comments on that apology is “I told you to go to hell, it felt good but not right.”
The very human and emotional problem of choosing between two versions of yourself is emphasized in this track to painfully accurate effect.