How Like the Goddess is about being head over heels. No irony. No distance. Just being fully in it.
The song comes in light, jangly, almost bouncing on its own feet. The guitar doesn’t sit still, it moves, like it’s pacing while the feeling catches up. The vocals feel live and unguarded, left rough around the edges on purpose. That rawness matters. This isn’t a song about being put together. It’s about letting yourself unravel a little because you want to.
There’s a playful energy running through the whole track. The kind where you’re dancing around like a monkey and you know it, but you don’t care. You jump through hoops willingly. You run around in circles because being in love makes you restless in that good way. It’s not romanticised as something deep or tragic. It’s joyful, foolish, and free.
Nothing here feels heavy. Even when time slips or things don’t line up perfectly, the song doesn’t linger there. It keeps moving. It understands that sometimes love isn’t about where it goes, just how it feels while you’re in it. That’s what gives the track its ease.
John Goldrust’s influences sit quietly underneath everything. Rock and indie form the backbone, with blues looseness and folk instincts shaping how the song breathes. It never tries to impress. It just plays.
How Like the Goddess feels like the moment before self consciousness kicks in. Before you start protecting yourself. When you’re willing to look stupid, dance badly, and give yourself over to someone because it feels good. That freedom is the point.
