Around the time the last Scissor Sisters album, Ta-Dah, came out, I was in Maryland for a funeral. Some funerals feel sad like like a drizzle increasing to a steady rain, and some funerals feel sad like a punch in the face; this was the latter kind. A friend's younger sister had died from a drug overdose near the end of her freshman year at college, and here we all were, in Maryland, to mourn her. The funeral had been full of absurdly fresh-faced teenagers in inappropriate sundresses and ill-fitting lacrosse-team-dinner suits, people wearing their expressions too lightly for the occasion, like they didn't really know that death is done and final, standing around talking about how they were going to divide up the dead girl's things-these people being, of course, the same ones, her friends, who hadn't thought to call an ambulance when the girl passed out, just let her sleep until she didn't wake up. READ MORE