A severe shortage of

When I used to do improv, we had a game we played called “Hesitation”, where we would do a scene, and at random times one player would hesitate (“I need to go to the… ummm…”) and the audience would yell out something random (“Opossum!”) The player then had to justify why he needed to go to the opossum. (To seek advice on how to play dead more convincingly, for example.)

One of my favorite songs is Depeche Mode’s Just Can’t Get Enough. I find the intro note pattern thingy at the beginning (Disclaimer: I’m clearly not a musician.) very catchy. But I find the lyrics even more intriguing, because they speak to the soul’s insatiable need for.

No, I did not forget to finish that last sentence.

The theme of the song is that the singer just can’t get enough. (Disclaimer: This makes sense, unlike, for example, Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, which is neither particularly bohemian nor particularly rhapsodic.) But the specific nature of the deficit is not entirely clear. Take a look at some of the lyrics:

(Disclaimer: Instead of typing “I just can’t get enough” 56 times (Disclaimer within a disclaimer: Yes, I counted them.), I will abbreviate this to IJCGE.)

When I’m with you baby, I go out of my head.
All the things you do to me and everything you said.
We slip and slide as we fall in love,
And I just can’t seem to get enough of.

What? Can’t get enough what? Falling in love? Being with you? You saying and doing stuff? Traction? What?

We walk together, we’re walking down the street.
Every time I think of you, I know we have to meet.
It’s getting hotter, it’s a burning love.
And I just can’t seem to get enough of.

What? Walking together? Streetwalking? My obsessive need to meet with you? Third degree burns from love? What?

IJCGE. (x16)

OK, I get it. You want more. I understand. More is better than less. But unless you give me some specifics, I can’t help you.

And when it rains, you’re shining down on me.
Just like a rainbow, you know you set me free.
You’re like an angel and you give me your love.
And I just can’t seem to get enough of.

IJCGE. (x18)

Clearly your deficit of appears to be affecting your perception of reality, because now you’ve drifted into shaky meteorological metaphors. But what do you want? More rain? More shining? More rainbows? (Disclaimer: If you shine when it’s raining, the rainbows will take care of themselves.) More freedom? (Disclaimer: Freedom due to a rainbow? What are you, imprisoned in Asgard?) Maybe more anti-psychotic medication?

Look, I’m trying to help, but you’ve got to give me something.  Perhaps if you had a little luck, you could work it out.

Maybe the video has some clues.

  • More Madonna clones? Nope, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a Madonna clone. Heck, you can’t even keep them out of the recording studio when we’re trying to shoot a music video! Madonna from the True Blue video? Check. Madonna from the Papa Don’t Preach video? Check. Madonna from Desperately Seeking Susan? Check. (Disclaimer: This might be a Rosanna Arquette clone.) And even when you go to the restaurant for a nice dinner, you end up with a trumpet-wielding Madonna clone from Like a Prayer! Ironically, there is no Madonna clone from Express Yourself, which might have helped.
  • More foofy drinks with paper umbrellas? Where would you put them? The table is full! Maybe if you asked the waiter to clear the table, you could get enough!
  • I suspect that the answer to the question is on that piece of paper the band is looking at. You seem awfully satisfied by its contents. But do you go get enough? No, you end the video sitting alone in a bar, complaining to each other about your lack of enough.

I don’t know what to tell you. You appear to be insatiable.  Sometimes, enough is enough.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s