The Research “I Love You But…”

After opening the song by repeating the titular statement (which ends with “…I’m scared of fucking up”), the vocals drop out and the music continues, establishing the musical equivalent of an awkward silence. I’m left with the impression of a boy talking on the telephone to his girlfriend, relieved to have expressed himself, but leaving her with nothing to say. And how should a girl reply to a statement such as this? It’s the epitome of a self-fulfilling prophecy—repeat it enough times and sure, it’ll happen. At the end of the first verse, he re-emphasizes his hemming/hawing: “I can’t see you waiting at the chapel, really/honey, there won’t be a wedding/ not until my hands are steady/and my tongue is tied”. “I Love You, But..” (mp3) is, in many ways, exemplary of so many dominant popular themes related to love these days—emotional constipation and stammering hesitancy equates to nobility, as long as it’s presented in a precious manner and without a whit of passion whatsoever.

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