Welcome back to SONG-FREUD, the only music column in the whole fucking world that doubles as a deep cavity search of your favorite Bay Area songs. Equal parts Pitchfork and Dr. Phil, SONG-FREUD is a public service to write, and good karma to read.
Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news.
The good news, Sage, is that you don’t need much song-Freudian analysis. The bad news is that you should really talk to a gastroenterologist about the indigestion that you are clearly expressing throughout “Gas Pedal.”
Grabbing the floor, wiggling intently; if you know anything about yoga, you know those positions are great for stimulating flatulence. A gas pedal, if you will.
Sage wants you to think that he’s still OK, even if he’s experiencing some gnarly indigestion: “I’m a great man,” he reminds us, but the claim is overshadowed by his references to stomach pain, expressed through allusions to food: forks, spoons, silverware and a bakery all make appearances.
It’s not until fellow HBK member Iamsu comes in on the second verse that we get a sense of what’s really going on. “Lead her to the bathroom, she askin’ where you takin me.” Although you may suspect that Iamsu has something personal to tell his female companion, like confessing his love or sharing a secret lasagna recipe, he is actually interested in her flatulence, to see how a normal person farts. What’s fucking up his tummy so bad that he’s hanging out in the girls’ room?
“I’m too turned up,” he admits, but he’s not bragging. You see, Su is coming to terms with the fact that alcohol consumption is affecting his liver and stomach lining! Fuck, life is hard when you’re forced to choose between getting wasted in night clubs and not shitting blood.
This is the Sisyphean struggle of Misters Gemini and Su. A doctor is going to have the answer, but if you ask me, you guys should just drink kombucha and pretend to be drunk. It will make you feel so much better.
Listen to ‘Gas Pedal’ below, as if you haven’t already heard it enough times to give you eternal gas pain: