In Peach Pit's "Shampoo Bottles," Heartache Lives in Inanimate Objects
It's the new single from the Vancouver indie rock band.
Songs about heartache are as old as unrequited love itself.
Most of these broken ballads, however, fail to acknowledge the material effects of breakups—the toothbrush on the bathroom counter, the drawer of things that belong to a person who no longer has a reason to make your home feel like theirs. Peach Pit tinker with these objects and their poisoned memories on their new single "Shampoo Bottle," a swaying, beachy swan song for all the things your ex left around your house.
Rather than igniting in rage, "Shampoo Bottle" focuses on the sadness that these tainted reminders conjure. "I've been leaving your shampoo bottles / Over in the corner there / Sitting empty on the bathtub rail / Wishing they could wash your hair," singer Neil Smith croons. "Your cell phone chargers still hanging from the wall / Haven't chucked it all, like you'd think / Though you haven't been around in weeks."
As the song's narrator uses his ex's leftover deodorant and analyzes each red Corolla he passes to see if it's theirs, "Shampoo Bottles" paints a surprisingly poignant vision of a heart that's beginning to heal, even if salt keeps getting rubbed into the wounds.