As Santigold sings they, I listen to the state parks and preserves and shores of Fl bop: aˆ?Oooh, All I would like to create /Is what I do just fine/ Ain’t a casino player but honey I would/ place money on me/ Oooh, All I would like to perform/ Is bottle it to market/ Cuz my model of vainglory was/ better for your health.aˆ? In aˆ?bit God finds out Slang,aˆ? differences regarding the word thiccboi act as an all-purpose track for Florida’s bizarre ecosystem of waterbirds, crustacea, mangrove countries, visitors, and developers. Acid-sun and lemon-bright, Santigold’s tune is fantastic for sunglasses and bombast. Equally, Little Jesus at their smartest, communes along with other wild birds, tourists, and ecologies. The self, as Santigold sings they, could be a raucous negotiation, an antithesis of suburban development crawling with prehistory as wooden storks, gators, and bobcats.
Their comical desire — hoping and wishing — becomes estimated on spring exploding around him shamelessly while he’s caught maintaining the audio speaker. For some reason, his vexation strikes the speaker as amusing. In the course of writing this, a pandemic also flourished within country, as folks lost employment, lives, stability. In light of this larger loss, individual want feels so tiny, very containable.