“That’s fucking perfect”: The Haim riff that gave ‘Gasoline’ the life it needed
Most Haim fans will likely remember how much of a moment Women In Music Part III felt like in 2020. Whether the pandemic made certain records feel particularly poignant, or if their music had reached a level beyond the first two albums, every single song felt like it overflowed with effortlessness, from the gritty, rock-infused feel of ‘The Steps’ to the more whimsical ‘Now I’m In It’.
In reality, no year would have been more perfect for this release than 2020. With many re-evaluating the very definition of meaning in a fractured, stagnated society and the future of the music industry’s grassroots infrastructure firmly in the air, some bands pulled up all the stops, delivering not only a heightened standard of excellence but also raw reflections on what it meant to be a human in dark times.
While many associate this period with The Strokes’ extraordinary kickstart The New Abnormal, Haim’s Women In Music Part III offered a different perspective, signalling a new venture for the trio that drew from different interpersonal struggles. Leaning into the painful honesty of life itself and everything it means to be alive in times of struggle, the record demonstrated something greater than their previous efforts, each member huddling around their shared vision like unrelenting survivors of war.
From broken relationships and dreams to cries for respite amid the storm, Part III stood in defiance against the world when the world pulled out its claws, forcing the Haim sisters to fight back with nothing but mud stains and ripped clothes. Part of this energetic charge was the fight to break free and escape, even to remember what it was like to enjoy endless partying and feel tactile once more.
This was effectively the premise of ‘Gasoline’. An ethereal and tender guitar-led track about Danielle Haim’s “pleading to get out from under” depression, ‘Gasoline’ became more rhythmically entrancing the moment they decided to add a faster, more defined drumbeat, making it feel, as Alana Haim recalled, a “funky sort of thing” that “really brought the song to life.”
To make it even more visceral, both Danielle and Alana, along with collaborator Rostam Batmanglij of Vampire Weekend fame and Ariel Rechtshaid, played electric guitar, though the stakes were raised when Rechtshaid applied a filter to the sound during the end segment. According to Danielle, this was the piece that pulled it all together. “That slowed-down ending is due to Ariel,” she said. “He had this crazy EDM filter he stuck on the guitar, and I was like, ‘Yes, that’s fucking perfect.'”
As the song fades out, this effect gives it a more dreamy, intimate feel, sluggishly pulling the end closer like dragging the bed covers up and over at the end of a long, tiring day. It’s a subtle addition but one that pays off in spades, bringing ‘Gasoline’ to a close with tenderness despite the grittiness of its themes. These are the moments that stand out throughout the record—the ones that reflect life’s drowsiness while offering much-needed respite from it.
The kinds that say: “We’re watching the sunrise from the kitchen counter / When you lie in between my legs, it doesn’t matter.”
