A song is a trick to let the light in. It’s a feeling pushed outside the body, emotion compelled to become sound. We listen so we can go there together, somewhere else. I play a song for you and hope it will help you know me. Did you like it? I ask, but that’s not really what I’m asking. This song is a place — this feeling is where I live. I want to know if you will go there with me. A feeling is a place we go together. A song is a shortcut back, even when you won’t come with me anymore. I tell you I like songs about pain and desire. No one talks like that, you say. But I am not talking. I think I am singing.
E•MO•TION is Carly Rae Jepsen’s third full-length album. Those syllables are important. Say it slow like the dictionary pronunciation demands. Maybe you thought it was her second album. The “Call Me Maybe” girl? Maybe you thought it was her only album. Maybe you’ve never even thought about it that much at all. You are not good with dates and facts like that. You don’t like pop music that much. You don’t like feelings that much. E•MO•TION is her third album, yes, but the first she’s released since the hyperspeed ascension of “Call Me Maybe.” It came out exactly one year ago today.
You can crawl inside a song like it’s a place, and I guess that this must be the place, and the songs stick to us like sweat, glistening close to our skin (I remember being naked). You hear the song and I watch you move instinctively, sweetly. We are moving to the feeling together; our bodies understand how to get to this place without speaking. It was never the bar, it was never the dress, it was never even the kiss. It was always the feeling. I’m even more sure of it now that it’s gone. Put me on loop. Am I stuck in your head? Maybe our bodies are just prisms for the songs to pass through like light. Or maybe my body is singing to you. It is saying: Baby, take me to the feeling.