I’ve been trying to figure out a good place to use Morphine in the mix for a long, long time now—way back to the Blurt track, which was almost a Morphine track, though I no longer remember which one. Morphine is, to me, one of the very best American bands to ever exist. Their sound isn’t likely to be heard on this planet again. And why would it? I have to believe that anyone who hears this band respects it enough to let it be. They left behind a discography that was brief but glorious, always moving forward and upward and outward.
The Morphine songs I like best are the ones with urgency and power, sex appeal and melody bursting out everywhere. But as the years have passed since I first heard “Honey White” on my favorite station in high school, I’ve grown to appreciate the detours they took into the weird territory. “Come in Houston” is one such path, difficult but strangely alluring, tossed off as a studio jam or calculated to sound nearly disorienting. Either way, it’s probably the first- or second-weirdest song they ever recorded. Recording and release info is scarce; as a result, I only know it was created near the end of the band’s lifespan. I don’t even know where I got it from—it just showed up one day when I was searching aimlessly through my collection. It’s like it exists outside of time, like the backing track to some future poet’s ravings about life and death and space, waiting to be pulled out of orbit and used for some purpose we can’t yet guess at.