"Find Me", the second taste of Porches' upcoming album The House, proves that Aaron Maine is still interested in making songs that people can dance to. Unlike its minimalist and sparse predecessor "Country", "Find Me" begins with energetic 90s house beats that swiftly create an alluring contrast with Maine's revelations of antisocial anxieties: "I think that I'll stay inside/ If you don't think that they'd mind". Maine has never sounded so pensive as he expresses a deep uneasiness toward the prospect of facing an unspecified inner or outer demon: “I can't let it find me". There is no overt fear or panic in his voice. Maine's measured and resigned vocals - which are shadowed by a digital doppelganger - hint instead at the inner fatigue engendered by the constant need to look over his shoulder:
"'Find Me' is a song about escape towards some kind of peace. Whatever it is you are trying to escape, it's something that is actively trying to consume you. It's not as simple as just ignoring it or looking away. It's the kind of thing that you can feel begin to take over, it has a very physical presence, even if it's only a thought. Sometimes you can figure out a way to dodge it and sometimes you can't."
Aaron Maine, NPR
Maine's ability to impart such a profound sense of confessional vulnerability is remarkable, given how vague and unspecific his lyrics are. The accompanying music video, which was co-directed by Maine and Nicholas Harwood, sees him alone in his introspection even as a young couple dance around him at his brooding spot under a bridge. The settings alternate between man-made settings (a private apartment, an empty car park at night, a gym) and breathtaking verdant expanses. The song's chorus ('Think I'll go/ Somewhere else/ Where I can sink/ Into myself/ Just watch me go/ Just watch me go') is briefly depicted by a picturesque shot of Maine, dressed in bright red shorts, floating in the shockingly blue waters of a circular backyard swimming pool, surrounded by enormous trees and a seemingly endless carpet of grass. It ends with an aerial short of Maine (this time in bright red sweater), lying in a vast field. Nature serves as a balm, even if it cannot erase Maine's intractable melancholy.
