I just want to write something, hopefully brief, about a single song. The song in question is by a band from Peterborough, Ontario, Canada that goes by the name The Burning Hell. The band’s personnel changes from album to album and from show to show, the two times that I have seen them. The main songwriter and driving force behind it all is Mathias Kom. He plays a mean ukulele and writes some of the best, albeit also some of the quirkiest, lyrics around.
There is an underlying feeling of tongue in cheek, self-deprecating humor present in most songs that Kom delivers in a very convincing and very low baritone. You never know if a song is going to be depressingly looking at the upside of things or cheerily looking at the depressing side of things. This song, falls more towards the latter, but not very much.
It begins with a lone strummed guitar, and the song continually builds for 5 minutes. It doesn’t simply build in volume, but instruments are added, lyrics become more dramatic, the singing becomes more desperate, Kom reels you in as if he is pleading with you on his knees.
There is no verse/chorus/verse structure in place here. Simply sets of couplets that each begin with the word “Love”, comparing it to everything from a monster truck, to an interstate, to a hurricane. Some of the comparisons initially elicit a smirk, or maybe more, but the tone of the song will instantly dart its eyes at you and make you feel awkward. This does not paint love in a favorable light by any means.
I think the lyrics speak for themselves. I have always just loved this song, it’s very moving, and very powerful. Have a listen via the link at the bottom of the post.
It Happens in Florida
Love, it’s like a hurricane:it happens in Florida, it gets into everything.
Love, it’s like a monster truck: it fills up whole stadiums, but it crushes smaller trucks
Love, it’s like a marmoset: it may be small and cute, but sometimes it eats its young
Love, it’s like a trailer park: ugly but functional, the rent is cheap enough
Love, it’s like a garbage man: it collects waste and filth, it smells like rotting flesh
Love, it’s like an interstate: it gets you from place to place, but it’s littered with dead raccoons
Love, it’s like a newborn child: seems interesting when it’s young, gets pedestrian after a while
Love, it’s like a hurricane: it happens in Florida, it destroys everything.
