On its surface, "Sunday Morning" sounds as safe as milk: a dreamy, upbeat lullaby, replete with Sugar Plum Fairy-visions of John Cale tinkling around on a celesta that happened to be in the recording studio. Under its pleasant exterior, however, is an examination of anxiety and regret felt after a night of indulgence. Reed delivers the vocal with such reverence it's easy to miss that he's not singing about waking up to church bells chiming outside his window.
Subject matter aside, the track has a memorable melody (the kind that you find yourself humming inappropriately on a crowded subway train) with lush, reverb-y production work by Wilson.
Anyone who bought the single thinking it was representative of the full album was in for a very rude, R-rated awakening.
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