The song’s music video chronicles the relationship between a man and a cactus.
Spirit Haus is the solo project of Bruno Catrambone, whose work as guitarist for the Philly-based CRUISR has always been an essential feature of the band’s ultra-fun, party-ready sound.
Setting out on his own, Catrambone released the single “You Don’t Love Me (Like You Used To)” back in July, which abandoned CRUISR’s high-concept summer jams for a slower, gauzier feel. “YDLMLYU2” is about separation and emotional fallout in blunt terms; over spacey instrumentation, he sings, “You don’t love me like you used to, lately / You don’t look me in the face no more.” Catrambone told AdHoc that the song is about “being in love with someone who is falling out of love with you; it’s knowing that this person is going to walk away and realizing that there’s nothing you can do but sit back and watch everything fall apart.” His strengths as a songwriter lie in the extent of his honesty, and in the hushed power of his articulation.
The song’s music video, which we’re premiering today, chronicles the relationship between a man and a cactus. Succulents work as instant visual comedy (remember Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus?), and in the case of this video, as a sort of wonky golem for displaced anxieties. The first shot, of a woman dancing in a park, is intentional misdirection — no, the most intense emotional relationship here is not between two humans, but between a human and a plant. The cactus makes its debut in the following shot, where Catrambone picks it up and begins carrying it from one apartment to another. He does eventually spot the woman in the park, and even stares for a moment. But after a protracted non-interaction, he continues walking. It’s a minimal, effective bit of visual storytelling about our tendency to remain in discontent—to choose the cactus, rather than move on.
“I contacted Bob Sweeney to collaborate with me on this and he immediately had a vision on how we could create something that visually evoked the same ethereal atmosphere as the music while still maintaining the turmoil experienced throughout the song,” he told Adhoc via email. “We wanted to use the plant as something being carried from place-to-place on an isolated walk the same way someone would mentally carry things they’re working through in their head. The dancing scenes, performed by Caitlin Dagle, emphasize the ebb and flow of the instrumental breaks to represent the chaotic nature of trying to internally deal with something that is already fleeting.”