Indie-rockers, Imperial Mammoth, believe that in order to write a song, you must experience it first. The pair based out of Hollywood, CA released their debut album, Gold Confetti this past June. The dynamic duo sat down with us to discuss their songwriting experiences and revelations for their song, “The Last One To Leave The Party.”
Backstory:
We’re a band that believes in total immersion songwriting. If we get the idea to write a song about the Yukon over breakfast, we’ll be pricing dog sleds on Oribitz before nailing down that first verse. It’s a fantastic way to procrastinate under the pre-tense of greater understanding. On this day, we felt like the album needed some volume — a new song that was a bit dark and throbbing, and something that could play in a club or on the jukebox at the Burgundy Room on Cahuenga. So we headed down there to find out what that song was.
Laura and I live in Hollywood, and sometimes Hollywood gets a bad wrap for being a tourist-trapping cesspool given up to the weekend clubbers and transients. This is absolutely true. But we still can’t help smiling when we think of the history that swirls in the dust around Sunset and Vine. Walking to the Burgundy Room we started talking about the reasons why we love that history so much, even though all our knowledge is skewed through the filter of time. We got some drinks and discussed.
“The Last One To Leave The Party” is a song about that nostalgia. About wanting something with your whole heart, even though you never really experienced it to know what exactly it is that you’re wanting. In our minds, we could time travel back to 1920’s/1930’s/1940’s Los Angeles and bathe in the golden age of film-making. We could walk among those who discovered the medium, and share drinks with them at the Mocambo. This is an incredibly juvenile fantasy, but one that is true to us. We all find our truths in memories and wishes, and though we probably know better than to harvest them, sometimes we can’t let them go.
Lyrics
I never leave my home
I just sit in my apartment
And when I need to walk
Back in time
Then I do it in the darkness
You were so dashing then
The last one to leave the party
I need to feel the floor caving in
When I want you to haunt me
I can’t let you go
I want to love you
Want to love you
Feels like eighty years ago
But I’m still coming for you
Coming For you
I know a man who talks to ghosts
Fakes as the trees in La Conga
You told him you need to fly
Fly away
But will you stay a little longer
I can’t let you go
I want to love you
Want to love you
Feels like eighty years ago
But I’m still coming for you
Coming For you
You were so dashing then
Arms like beams from a projector
Light up the cigarettes wafting in
Words that linger like a specter
I can’t let you go
I want to love you
Want to love you
Feels like eighty years ago
But I’m still coming for you
Coming For you
