Music Hour at the Opium Den: “You’ll See It” by Washed Out
Every day at an undisclosed hour, Ms. Angora Holly Polo retires to the opium den in the lowest bellows of the manor and lets her servants blow opium smoke into her face before writing her music reviews. In this edition: “You’ll See It” by Washed Out.
I am frolicking, partially nude, through a tropical resort round sunset with local natives. It is paradise. Then they all pick me up and carry me to a beachside dance party, and it turns out I’m in a Bacardi ad. But something is amiss. The natives are all Trustafarians and Leo Dicaprio is trying to fondle me behind the Tahitian gardenia bushes, and I have a vague sensation that someone is trying to kill me. Right as the locals corner me and sink some weapon made of teeth into my heart, I wake up and find I’ve fallen asleep in the sun too long, and yell at the pool boy for not waking me. Then I make him get me a mai-tai, and ask him to dress up like a tropical native before serving me my dinner.