97. Song No. 1,260: “Boomerang,” Mae
Oh, Mae. I adored the shit out of this endearingly earnest band all through college. They played on campus my junior or senior year, and there was something transcendentally magical about seeing a band I love in a place I love surrounded by people I love and not feeling even a little self-conscious or like I should be dialling down the visible part of leading with my emotions.
“Boomerang” is just one song from a trio of albums — (m)orning, (a)fternoon and (e)vening (also a nifty riff on a band moniker that takes its naming cue from “multisensory aesthetic experience”) — that came out years after college, but it reminded me of all the things I loved about one of the only bands I’ll stomach overtly religious lyrics from (though let’s thank a god I don’t really believe in for this song being devoid of faith-based lyrics because I do love it quite a lot).
There’s all kinds of symbolism going on with these album names and their execution, and (m)orning is intended to reflect the youth bend of the arc. Which “Boomerang” does perfectly: Only young’ns not yet embittered by life, heartbreak and disappointing endings to promising love stories turn an optimistic eye, confident heart and buoyant soul to thoughts of guaranteed future reunions with a temporary ex.
And that’s part of what makes “Boomerang” as charmingly addictive as going back to the devil you know you can’t quite exorcise from your heart yet, but with way less damage on the horizon. Remember being certain that fate would bring you back together? And that romantic setbacks were fleeting dilemmas just setting up your love story to be all the more victorious in the end? That’s what this song sounds like.
And it’s just as magical as your introduction to falling wildly, recklessly in love and believing with unshakable conviction that you’re among the lucky few who got it right the first time because surely this love will conquer all when you can’t imagine being this head-over-heels about anyone else.