Not to brag or anything, but when I was a kid I helped save the world multiple times.
My brother and I had an imaginary game that we played so frequently, so seriously, and for so many years that it was basically part of our reality. We weren’t kids at all, but aliens (who looked conveniently like humans) sent from another solar system to protect Earth from evil beings who had aspirations of galactic domination.
My brother was from a planet made entirely of gold, with the surprisingly uncreative name “Planet Gold.” My planet’s name, in keeping with my position as younger brother, was “Planet Silver.” We were known as “Galaxy Lords,” and our main weapon was to use the power of our minds, along with a bit of enthusiastic humming and hand motions, to destroy our rivals.
At any given moment, we would slip seamlessly into the game. A malevolent being would show up, and we would work together to bravely fight it off, saving the world once again. In retrospect, it was extremely considerate of our alien archenemies to plan their attacks on Planet Earth with our neighbourhood as their starting point.
We loved that our parents had no clue how important we were in the battle for control of the universe. And we were both so connected to our secret identities that, as we got older, we would convince each other to continue suspending our disbelief.
One of us might say, “look, this game is boring. Let’s admit that we’re not really Galaxy Lords, okay?” But just as quickly, the other would respond with, “oh no! Your mind has been taken over! Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” There would then be much humming and arm-flailing, and the traitor brother would buy back into the game, probably just to get the other one to shut up.
My point (other than the obvious one that my brother and I were extremely strange children) is that secret identities are fun.
And they’re everywhere in music.
French duo Daft Punk are famous for their retro-future outfits, although their identities are not exactly secret. Gorillaz are more like characters than a real band. But again, everyone knows that it’s Damon Albarn’s project.
Producer and infectious-beat maker Brock Berrigan has really committed to his secret identity.
First of all, “Brock Berrigan” is not his real name. He said in an interview that “barely anyone” knows who he is. But the crowning touch is the chicken mask, found at a friend’s house the morning after a Halloween party, that Berrigan is always pictured wearing. It’s quite the gimmick.
The best part is that the quality of the music rises far above the gimmickry. Funk samples, relentless percussion, and left-field movie quotes pepper his songs. One track cleverly ends with a soundbite from the 1989 Batman movie, in which two thugs consider removing Batman’s mask. My brother and I loved that movie.
I have a feeling that if Brock Berrigan – whoever he is – had grown up on my street, my brother and I might have invited him into our game. He could have been from Planet Poultry.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. The drums’ slow pulse make it feel laid-back, but the double-time hi-hat pushes it forward.
2. Halfway through, there’s a jarring moment when the whole thing shifts up a third, before crashing back to normal.
3. The ethereal vocal “ooh” makes it mysterious and spooky, but in a childlike, fun-to-be-scared kind of way. And to be honest, it kind of sounds like the humming my brother and I would use to fight off evil aliens.
Recommended listening activity:
Going for a late-night drive in your Toyota Batmobile.