Ladykillers

The guitars arrive already fizzing, a bright and slightly caustic shimmer that sits at odds with the song's dark subject matter — and that tension is precisely the point. Miki Berenyi's voice is silk over something harder, her delivery almost breezy even as the lyrics excavate the predatory calculus of charm and manipulation. The rhythm section provides a surprisingly tight spine beneath the gauze, giving the song a propulsive energy that other Lush tracks sometimes trade away for pure atmosphere. There is something almost pop in the construction, a hookiness that sneaks up on you through the noise. Emotionally the song is cool rather than cold — knowing, a little contemptuous, but too stylish to be bitter. It belongs to the early nineties British shoegaze and dream pop scene, but wears that lineage lightly, pushing toward something more songlike and accessible than the genre's ambient wing. Emma Anderson's guitar work creates a constant gentle turbulence in the high register, a flutter that keeps everything slightly unsteady. You play this song when you want noise that has wit in it — at that particular social gathering where everyone is a little too aware of everyone else's angles, or alone when you're feeling sharp and slightly sardonic and want music that matches that frequency.