Ah, the Sunday morning. You wake up, brew some coffee, put on a relaxing record, and let the blood in your brain begin to rejuvenate from the wild events of the weekend. You kick back in your favorite recliner, maybe read a good book, or maybe watch some football– you take the day off. The relaxing sound of the Sunday morning has never been replicated as perfectly as The Velvet Underground’s “Sunday Morning,” but there has been such a high amount of attempt, that to ignore the “copy-cats” would be ignoble to the world of music. And hey, who doesn’t always enjoy a sluggishly soothing come down anthem? I know I do. Cass McCombs, staple of the indie-singer-songwriter genre, is known for his slow burning musical lozenges (“County Line”), but the rarity, “Bobby, King of Boy’s Town,” has that perfect amount of energy– not too much and not too little– never fatiguing listeners in the way that slower tempo songs can sometimes do. The song is like that first sip of coffee, drowsy yet optimistic, warm and awakening. The song’s nonsensical lyrical content is refreshing in an entertaining way and somewhat hallucinogenic as McCombs croons, “God Bless Father Flanagan, the movies is bologna.” The melody struggles to keep up with itself, bumbling along like a young boy who just learned how to hum. It’s an exact demonstration of one of music’s many purposes: escape. “Bobby, King of Boy’s Town” is a three minute and forty-seven second mental transportation. And after a long week and a shameless weekend, an escape is much needed.