I’m still not sure “Sport” was the best word to use. They basically just added some grapefruit on top of the ultra dry woodsy notes, making the composition breathe a little, making it fresher, livelier.
It doesn’t really conjure up images of dudes lifting weights at the gym or someone climbing a mountain with a kayak strapped to their back.
It’s still a goth boy sitting by a campfire, but maybe he just got out of the shower, maybe he’s wearing one colorful article of clothing. Maybe he’s listening to Mazzy Star instead of Sisters of Mercy. You know, maybe he’s smiling a little, secretly.
Accurate, entertaining, and illuminating: post-of-the-year candidate.
SOM kind of turned Knockin' on Heaven's Door into Clawing on the Gates of Hades, didn't it. Smells Like Band-Aids could be on their set list . . . we just need to write it. (It would be a hurtin' song, of course.)