Cocteau Twins - Carolyn's Fingers

Imagine hearing this when it came out in 1988—or even more radical, imagine hearing it in 1982, when the Cocteau Twins first started releasing music like this.

For context, some of the the most popular songs on the radio in 1982 were:

• Olivia Newton-John - Physical
• John Cougar - Jack And Diane
• Chicago - Hard To Say I'm Sorry
• Daryl Hall and John Oates - I Can't Go For That
• Journey - Don't Stop Believin'

Now picture this bizarre sound breaking onto that scene.  There had never been anything like it.

The guitars were as fuzzed-out as a Black Sabbath riff, but chiming and pretty, instead of muscular and satanic.

And Liz Frasier's vocals were more like opera than rock.  And what the fuck was she saying? Nobody knew.

Turns out she wasn't saying anything.  And that's one of my favorite things about Cocteau Twins music.

Unlike 98% of the songs that I like, which only disappoint me when I finally figure out the lyrics, I will never be disappointed by the meaning of a C-Twins song.  Because it's just sound.  She's making up nonsense words, and I love it.  I assign my own meaning to Liz Frasier's portmanteau poetry, and my version will always rule.

Sometimes I like to imagine that I'm an alien who wakes up in a different body, on a different planet, every day.  It helps gain a fresh perspective on things that have become too familiar.

So put on your headphones, turn this up loud, and imagine you're a being of pure consciousness who just woke up in a human body for the first time.  No expectations.  No context.  You're suddenly a human, and this is what it feels like to be human.

Hell yeah!  I'd happily sign on to a planet where this is the soundtrack.  Where this is what life feels like.

Before this song, there was nothing else like this in music.  Afterward, there are countless imitators, but none of them do it this well.

Congratulations Cocteau Twins.  You made art.

Read more about the Cocteau Twins in Heaven or Las Vegas.