“Folkin’ Around” is the only joke on this standout on Panic At The Disco’s masterpiece Pretty. Odd.
Or maybe it isn’t the only joke but it the song, a brisk minute 55 of whistles, flutes, violins, and heart, is so out of place on the album, so out of place in the world Panic were living in, it only seems perfect because it is perfolk.
Folk, but not folk rock, and not hillybilly folk, it is more of an exercide in genre bend that seems to live its life outside the open scarred barriers of Beatley, psychedelic sixties pop. Maybe it was a frission in Panics wall, in the home, a sign of a break where for the last time (really, their last song), they sing goodbye to themselves in another place where all their disagreements are gone and in the simple and really quite beatiful melody, they put out their lantern and find their own way back home alone.