I Think It's My Mom

By Sascha Nastasi-Feinburg:


The number one song in the world right now is the first single from 22 year-old musical artist and avant-garde storyteller, MosquitoMadeofPlexiglass. The song is a deconstruction of identity, a Post-postmodern explanation of what it means to exist (and not exist) and what it means to know in a world in which knowing (in any sort of “absolute” way) is becoming near unthinkable.

In the current climate of aforementioned confusion, MosquitoMadeofPlexiglass peerlessly crystallizes what could be presumed to be the current feeling worldwide; the artist even seems to have the key to our collective consciousness. The song's power lies in both its singularity and its commonality; most people have some form of a mom and believe they know their mom (the song begs the richly convoluted, multifaceted question: what if we think our moms are our moms but they are not, in fact, our moms?). More importantly, perhaps, is what not knowing one's mom means for oneself, for one’s own sense of purpose and tranquility. The song does not appear, upon first glance, to be about identity, and while it grapples with a multitude of topics, the way MosquitoMadeofPlexiglass questions and paws at the matter of identity and what it means to be, to simply be a person, is surprising and even revelatory.

If true art is a window into the soul of another and a reflective device for us to see ourselves better, like the perfect mirror, then MosquitoMadeofPlexiglass’s new single I Think It’s My Mom seems to exemplify what we want -- nay, need! -- art to be. Let me be bold: I Think It’s My Mom is not a song, but an experience. I Think It’s My Mom is not a trend or fad, but a revolution. On the technical side, the song boasts smooth, synesthetic, yet surprising production (the witch-like cackles, church bells, and elephant bowel movement noises are especially notable). Furthermore, the artist’s voice is deep and milky, and there is no arguing that the artistry exhibited in the lyrical concoction is near unprecedented. From the use of parentheticals which evoke a modern E.E Cummings, to the one-line take down of a likely absent father, it is clear that perhaps these lyrics are MosquitoMadeofPlexiglasses’s most mind-boggling achievement. The musical text, included below, should be inspected closely and likely read upwards of twelve times to allow for true ingestion and comprehension.


I think it’s my mom

Don’t wanna be wrong

(yeah yeah yeah)

Think it’s my mom


I think it’s my mom

She gave me lip balm

I hope I’m not wrong

(yeah yeah yeah)


Don’t know if it’s my mom

Don’t know how to be wrong

I wish I was a fish

My father’s made out of kitsch


I think it’s my mom

(yeah yeah yeah)

Ah, do a facepalm

Flew without a qualm