Let it not be said that Michael Avishay, the songwriter behind the fuzzy, poppy duo known as Ghost Animal, doesn't put a lot of thought into his songs.

He passed along the tracks for the band's new EP A Ceremony via e-mail last night, and I immediately decided that a Cut of the Day was in order for one of these tracks. Chatting with him via Facebook, we pinpointed "Tired (A Ceremony)" as the track to feature, both because as he so rightfully expressed "it's the most catchy and immediate track on the EP" and because there's so much packed into the 2 1/2 minute blast of overmodulated drums and lucid vocals. So much so, that I thought it appropriate to edit down his end of our FB conversation (with his permission, of course) and let Avishay explain what is behind this lavish gem.

It's, I think, the best recorded/catchiest/immediate song on the EP. The record is called A Ceremony which is no sly nod to New Order and "Tired (A Ceremony)" owes a lot to New Order, at least in my mind. Sonically its not really like New Order, but specifically "Tired" I recorded w/ "Ceremony" very much in mind. And the EP has a kind of ceremonial structure to it, the way I see it: the ceremony/ritual of going out to get fucked up, have a "good time" or whatever. The kind of ups and downs of crazy bingeing all boiled down to five songs   

I originally wrote it sometime late junior year so like Feb/March of 2010. It's kind of simple actually. It has to do with this girl who was my big high school flame/girlfriend. And every time we saw each other after I left for college, we'd still sort of be together, but only for the summer or whatever. That song is kind of about confronting the reality - which has necessarily become matter of fact - that we are different people. The song is about just being tired of the same old thing because after a while there is no point of origin. The repetition of actions, events, and emotions becomes repetition of repetition rather than repetition because of the strength of a feeling. It's about recognizing that the echo is just a trace, that the love or whatever it was isn't there, you're just running through it out of habit.

The songs that I write that are true tend to be kind of loaded just because it's so difficult to say something very simple so you have to go through all these roundabout way and that's kind of what the song is about too. It's the end of a drawn-out sigh.

It's like this song "Shivers" by Boys Next Door. It's so simple but so painfully beautiful and it sort of develops as you play it on repeat. That's why "Tired" is called "A Ceremony" because it's both the ceremony (the regularly repeated ritual) of "waking up" or "coming down" or going to sleep or having sex or whatever. But in a way too as a ceremony it marks some kind of event in order to remind whoever that it was something that happened once. Or like a bar mitzvah, it's a ceremony that marks the end of something which is everything you've ever known. It's that singular moment when what was (which was everything) is no longer and what will be (which is everything else) hasn't happened yet.

It's something I've felt I've had to deal with on a much more realistic level for the last few years. Part of maturing, you know? It's the battle between "Wanna go back but never go home" and "I will not move i will not be afraid." I feel like that's always what I'm struggling with, or fighting with, or against. Which is why that song is also about me, too. "I know you better than I used to" is directed at her but also really at me (which is the way love works, I think). It's a kind of prismatic reflection or something made especially prescient because this girl is part of my high school life and I went off to college and did drugs and fucked around and was depressed and was happy, all in different ways than I've ever been.