Wednesday, February 17, 2016

100 More Songs, No. 2: "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake

I once claimed that "Reptilia" by The Strokes is the greatest Western musical composition of my lifetime. This one's close.


"Mirrors" is a song that I liked well enough and then for some reason binge-listened to it for months, starting immediately after I finalized the Top 100 list, so it didn't make the cut, and that I regret, because there are two kinds of pop (I guess this isn't really pop, but that's not really the point and I don't really have a precision understanding of musical taxonomy anyway) songs that I especially like: slow dance songs and fuckin' bangers. And of all the popular songs I'm aware of, this is the only one that manages, by some miracle, to fit both of those seemingly opposed categories. It is all things to all people.
The banger part--specifically, the fuckin' banger part--is pretty easy to explain. Timberlake the solo artist is in a fairly constant state of moonwalking, or at least that's how he sounds. "Mirrors" has a particularly nimble, light-footed feeling to its vocals, not only because Timberlake's tenor verges on alto, but because he bounces off of one word before alighting delicately on the next. It's buoyant, and you feel like he's dancing, because he's always dancing, and therefore you ought to dance too.

That's in stark contrast to the rhythm section, which stomps on the downbeats while Timberlake flits around some real take-your-time-to-get-your-mouth-around-them lyrics with impressive finesse. There's propulsive bass and soaring guitar--it gets you out of your seat. It's like listening to an elephant that's made friends with a hummingbird. 
The slow-dance aesthetic somehow coexists with all of that in a song that's set at a pretty ponderous andante for all that's going on between the beats. And like the great turn-of-the-century pop ballads that figured so prominently in the middle school relationships of people my age (and as a part of NSYNC, Timberlake was there too, like the ghost of romantic ineptitude past), it's grandiose and earnest almost to the point of being saccharine. 
One thing I like about this song is the structure of the chorus, and the chords underneath it. First of all, the first downbeat of the chorus doesn't come until the last word of the first line of the chorus--you're almost three seconds into the chorus by the time beat one comes around, and it's a long three seconds, like you're falling from something that's high enough up that you have time to perceive a state of free fall before you actually hit the deck.
The other thing I like is that it changes from the minor prechorus to the major chorus, which, combined with the pickup beats in the chorus, sounds like one of shots in a movie where the main character wakes up from a dream and opens his eyes wide while you're in an extreme close-up on his face. It's a dash of cold water.
Then, it goes back to minor at the two most emotionally resonant moments in the chorus: "It was easy / Comin' back here to you once I figured it out / You were right here all along" and "That we're making two reflections into one." The first signifies an emotional union that's necessary, and you know that it's necessary because of the emptiness caused by absence. Nothing says you need something or someone than having everything fall apart when that person or thing is gone. The second line, obviously, is about completing that union itself--whether by sex or marriage or however people do that--and is the conclusion of everything that Timberlake was singing about before that point.
Which is a nice transition to the final thing I love about this song, which is the lyrics and the message. The sentiment behind the song is that true love isn't about desire or even happiness in the strictest sense, it's about finding someone who complements you, makes you stronger and better by their presence and involvement. It's not even close to an original sentiment, and it's stated so plainly that I'm having a hard time writing about it without hedging by calling it corny or something like it, but what is pop music for if not expressing strong feelings in obvious ways?
So uncool as it might be to find, or even seek out, Great Meaning in a Justin Timberlake song, "Mirrors" espouses a view of romantic love that I find extremely compelling. That's what I'd want being in love to look like, in short, and while that's a long way from leaving room for Jesus under a disco ball in the middle school cafeteria, you can draw a line from one to the other if you want to.