You may be skeptical, you may be moral, you may already be loyal to someone, you may be fastidious, but I venture to say there is some magnetism in the possibility of being received by someone with whom you would have an utterly overwhelming good time. I bet whenever you see that trashy “for a good time” message you hear at least faintly the ring of an underground Bell of Wished-For Bliss. At some level you’re always on the lookout for the best of good times. So let me show you something.
I’ve noted before that a rock song can embody a form that it holds in common with an embarrassingly recognizable sex act in the case of “Feel Like Makin’ Love.” The Fountains of Wayne track “Denise” offers a compelling analogue to sex in another way.
None of the notes or words of “Denise” stand out as extraordinary. There’s no particular wizardry in the melody (as there is in “Red Dragon Tattoo”). The magic is in the produced sound being exactly right at a decisive point of transition. The opening section is restrained, tight, itchy, with distorted trebly voices in guitar and vocal and a I-V-VIb chord progression (B-flat, F, G-flat) that keeps hanging unresolved on that VIb—and then the throttle opens at least two notches more than you expected for a superwarm, superstrong flow that sweeps all constraints away (“I can’t help myself . . .”).
There’s a mystery in the sound engineering here. How can there be room for that much gain in volume and power? The opening section is a bit skeletal, maybe, but you wouldn’t call it faint. This is what the before and after look like on the audio clip:
Anyway the onset and discharge of the full sound is very sexlike, and optimally so, feeling happy and safe thanks to the archetypal pop-rock structures of the sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, the VIb-IIIb-IV progression (G-flat, D-flat, E-flat) that fits the VIb into a familiar gorgeous pattern, and eventually the good old bop-bop…bop, bop-bop…bop. The feeling is all the more overwhelming as one realizes the singer will never catch up with Denise (who drives a Lexus, and her dad lives in Texas); he’s displacing her power over him into his power over his music, and although compensating for unrequited love by playing in a rock band in Long Island sounds like a loser formula, in this charmed instance the band conquers all.
The idea of asking an actual person to give you the very best of good times is absurd. Less so, the idea of cranking up this song.
 I checked with Elise before publishing this paragraph.
 The clip image shows only volume and not how the various frequencies are represented. I suspect the earlier sound leaves lots of frequency ranges unoccupied and the later sound floods into most of them, the warm low bass being just the most obvious new arrival. It’s a ravishing fullness effect.