Lost in Translation – Unraveling the Intricacies of Miscommunication


You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for The Neighbourhood's Lost in Translation at Lyrics.org.
Article Contents:
  1. Music Video
  2. Lyrics
  3. Song Meaning
  4. A Voyage Into the Vortex of Verbal Veneer
  5. The Haunting Echoes of Desire Unrequited
  6. The Bruised Apple and the Folly of Forlorn Hope
  7. Chronos and Kairos: The Timely Struggle in the Lyrical Labyrinth
  8. A Symphony of Sickness: The Inescapable Lure of ‘The Game’

Lyrics

I wonder if they see
That you don’t belong to me
Wish that you would be mine
Mine, wish that you would be

I’ve been getting lost in translation
Trouble keeping up communication
We were having fun, now I can’t wait to be done
It feels like I’m the only one that’s sick of playing

Baby (baby), why you gotta keep me hanging?
It’s like an apple of temptation, oh yeah
You let me get a bite, uh, out of sight, out of mind
Until I found a bruise on the other side

Time, oh
Do it to me one more

I’ve been getting lost in translation
Trouble keeping up communication
We were having fun, now I can’t wait to be done
It feels like I’m the only one that’s sick of playing

Sick, tired of people telling me, “Be patient”
Hey, trying to light the fire with no flame (no flame)
Uh, tying to figure out what you’re saying to me
I wish I didn’t need you to explain

Time, oh
Do it to me one more
Time, oh (do it to me, do it to me one more time)
Do it to me one more

I’ve been getting lost in translation
Trouble keepin’ up communication
We were having fun, now I can’t wait to be done
It feels like I’m the only one that’s sick of playing

I’ve been getting lost in translation
Trouble keeping up communication
We were having fun, now I can’t wait to be done
It feels like I’m the only one that’s sick of playing

(Do it to me, do it to me one more time)

Full Lyrics

In a soundscape laden with emotion, The Neighbourhood weaves a compelling narrative of the complexities of human interaction in their song ‘Lost in Translation.’ It’s a lyrical journey into the heart of misunderstanding and longing, set against a backdrop of rhythmic melancholy that has become the hallmark of The Neighbourhood’s evocative sound.

Much like the subtleties of a foreign dialect, love’s language is fraught with missteps and pitfalls. ‘Lost in Translation’ touches on these nuanced difficulties, weaving a tale of desire hindered by the barriers of flawed interchange. The song begs for a keen ear, one that’s tuned to interpret the depth of miscommunication in relationships—romantic and otherwise.

A Voyage Into the Vortex of Verbal Veneer

Underneath the sleek veneer of The Neighbourhood’s angsty tones lies a powerful commentary on the erosion of communication. ‘Lost in Translation’ captures the essence of a conversation in decay, where words toil in conveying the weight of one’s true intentions. It paints the picture of a liaison marred by the inability to bridge the gap between what is said and what is meant, sparking an intriguing dialogue about whether love can sustain when messages become muddled.

This sonic expedition is not only about the breakdown of dialogue but also the internal struggle of feeling alone in recognizing the problem. Frontman Jesse Rutherford’s languid vocal delivery cloaks the urgency of the issue—a testament to the subtlety of The Neighbourhood’s songcraft.

The Haunting Echoes of Desire Unrequited

Desire is a potent thread that runs throughout ‘Lost in Translation,’ an urge so palpable that it almost becomes a character in its own right. The yearning to transform what is coveted into what is possessed is thematic gold, and The Neighbourhood doesn’t shy away from mining its depths. There’s a haunting poignance in the admission of desire—’Wish that you would be mine’—laden with the despair of unreciprocated feelings.

It’s a desire fraught with frustration, its fulfillment dangling like ‘an apple of temptation,’ always seemingly just out of reach. This pressing need accentuates the isolation felt when communication falters, and the pursuit of desire turns into an exercise of futility.

The Bruised Apple and the Folly of Forlorn Hope

There is symbolism aplenty in the allegorical ‘apple of temptation’ mentioned in the song—transitory satisfaction that leaves a lingering sting. The Neighborhood incisively points to the deeper agony of realizing that what once seemed perfect may indeed be flawed. Much like the proverbial fruit, once bitten into, the imagery of finding a bruise on the ‘other side’ speaks directly to the disillusionment that follows an impulsive leap into intimacy without true understanding.

Here lies the pivot point of the track, a mourning of hope that was predicated on the fragile scaffold of communication. It illuminates the epiphany that sometimes the very things we chase with fervor might be marred upon closer inspection, analogous to a message lost in the transition from heart to tongue.

Chronos and Kairos: The Timely Struggle in the Lyrical Labyrinth

Chronos and kairos, two aspects of time, dance a tangled waltz within the lines of ‘Lost in Translation.’ The Neighbourhood deftly uses the word ‘time’ as both an anchor and a specter that haunts the narrator’s psyche. Chronos, the sequential ticking away, underscores the exasperation with the prolonged wait for clarity and reciprocity. Meanwhile, kairos—the moment ripe with possibility—eclipses with the recurring plea to ‘do it to me one more time,’ suggesting the addictiveness of connection, however flawed.

It’s a lyrical play that calls attention to the cruel jest of time in the economy of human relationships, where moments are either lost or seized, and often, lamentably misunderstood.

A Symphony of Sickness: The Inescapable Lure of ‘The Game’

No lyrical excavation of ‘Lost in Translation’ would be complete without confronting ‘the game.’ This recurring concept stands as a metaphor for the back-and-forth, the trials and tribulations of communication in which a heart is staked. Evident in the assertion ‘It feels like I’m the only one that’s sick of playing,’ the band captures the weariness of participating in a seemingly endless cycle that cultivates more confusion than connection.

This culminating refrain hammers home the exhaustion felt when words fail and actions misalign, resonating with any listener who’s ever felt drained by the mechanics of maintaining a relationship in disrepair. It’s a recognition that speaks volumes to the universal experience of languishing in linguistic limbo.

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