“Sentimental Journey” by Pere Ubu

Not to be confused with the American popular song that Doris Day had a hit with, this is a song from Pere Ubu's 1978 album The Modern Dance, which is arguably the greatest rock record ever recorded. This is the second to last song, the longest and most formless, and in some ways the best song on an album in which every track is an art-rock masterpiece. I bought a Pere Ubu bootleg around 1980 that also had this song—but the song titles were all in “secret code”—this one was titled “Doris Day Sings.” That record claimed to be a Christmas concert at a mall—and you can hear people nervously laughing, no doubt thinking the end is near—and you can maybe imagine a drunken Santa and some little kids whose minds were warped for the better. It's a pretty minimal, quiet-ish song, and starts out sounding a lot like (in movie terms) a very leisurely space alien attack. There is repetitious guitar, bass, clarinet, amazing, bizarre synthesizer, and pretty freeform drums. Breaking bottles (and possibly other breaking things) is also a highlight. And of course, there is one of about a million solid gold David Thomas vocal performances. Even though the lyrics make no literal sense, they somehow burn themselves in your brain like a trauma. I suppose you could say this is an alternate universe version of the Doris Day hit—both songs are steeped in nostalgia, both weirdly sugar-coated, both are intoxicating boat-rides through some kind of blacklight-lit, dry-iced, tunnel of love, followed by egg foo young and zombies at the Golden House. Practically the same song. I tried listening to both songs simultaneously through headphones—not for the faint-of-heart, but if I could come up with the right movie scene to accompany this unholy union, I think I might have something that will get me through the music video dark ages.