In the past when I have asserted that "The Feelies understand velocity better than any other rock band that has ever existed," I am sometimes met with a rejoinder along the lines of "But (insert name of thrash/hc/noise band here) plays much faster than the Feelies." And sure, in terms of raw BPMs, they're right. What you're missing in those bands is the HEARTBEAT. In the inarticulate blurwhine of whitenoise the PULSE is obliterated. To illustrate what I mean, it might help to think of "Forces At Work" as a car ride.

You're hitchhiking on a beautiful autumn day; cloudless sky, pleasantly warm/cool. You're walking down the road trying to thumb a ride when you see a car in the distance, moving toward you very quickly. That's that E-major tremolo thing at the beginning of the song, right? The volume increases as the car approaches, and then there's that very short pause where you climb into the car. Then, for some reason, the car INSTANTANEOUSLY accelerates to 130 MPH. You can feel your head snap back when Mercer and Million leap into that furiously strummed chord. You're traveling at a thrilling speed, the vocals and edgy guitar bits only add to the nervousness and excitement. Then after awhile, the drone shifts down to D-Major, and there is an instant sense of relaxation; can you feel that? You sense that while you're still traveling at breakneck speed, the engine isn't working as hard. The nervousness dissipates, vocal harmonies replace the rhythmic chants, guitar lines are based more on melodic snippets than stinging bends. Then at the end the song pulls over and lets you off at the exit and zooms out of sight. That's the G-major part at the end.

I will not trouble you with a similar explication of "Raised Eyebrows" from the same LP; suffice to say that there are few moments in pop music (which is to say, in life), more JOYOUS than the release of the tension built up by the stuttering, jerky first half of the song. The racing guitars, the incredibly busy drumming, the rowdy sing-along of "You Get Old, Whoa-oa-oa" (or whatever the hell it is they're actually saying); when I am so old that my heart no longer soars when I hear this, please kill me.

Having mastered completely the use of velocity in pop music on their debut LP, this very strange combo would take a few years off, then come back and show the world a new Feelies that retained the rush of speed, but added a decidedly Velvet-inspired thump and then wove gorgeous harmonic textures around it in a way that has not been matched since. Which is why as much as I love Crazy Rhythms, The Good Earth is my favorite Feelies album. Crazy Rhythms sounds almost like it is being performed by incredibly precise wind-up toys; one is sort of shocked to think that humans are capable of performing this music. The Good Earth retains the precision, but encourages you to "Slow down." "Stop for awhile. Talk about it for awhile." There is a warmth to it that is not often in evidence on the first album, and that's why with all deference to those who rate Crazy Rhythms as one of the finest rock records ever made (Heya, Mark!) It's The Good Earth that gets the slight nod here.