B-Side Guys

In southwest Colorado’s late-night service industry landscape, Alicia Glass has crafted something rare with “Burrito” – a song that finds sardonic humor and raw beauty in the fluorescent-lit purgatory between closing time and sunrise. Written atop a moldy cooler after a bartending shift, this lead single from her debut EP “Close / Open” captures the peculiar delirium of post-shift exhaustion with unflinching authenticity.

The track opens with an absurdist vignette that sets its tone perfectly: “Said she broke up with her ex/because he ate a burrito the size of a baby.” Glass delivers these lines with a deadpan charm that transforms workplace gossip into existential comedy. The narrator’s immediate response – wondering if it would be weird to get the ex’s number – showcases the kind of sleep-deprived logic that permeates the entire piece.

The production maintains a deliberate rawness that serves the narrative, with brooding guitars creating a sonic equivalent of sodium vapor lighting. Glass’s self-described “dirtbag dream rock” finds its perfect expression here, as distorted instruments mirror the fuzzy reality of exhaustion while maintaining a dreamy, almost hypnotic quality.

Her imagery is precisely observed and painfully familiar to anyone who’s worked service industry jobs: non-slip shoes, partially burnt-out signage, bathroom stall graffiti underneath messages about not forcing it. These details aren’t just scene-setting; they’re the building blocks of a world where mundane objects take on almost totemic significance during the strange hours between shifts.

The chorus’s simple refrain of “I can’t sleep at night” transforms through repetition from statement to mantra to plea. Glass’s vocals carry just the right mix of resignation and desperation, building to a climax that feels like the audio equivalent of staring at a ceiling fan at 4 AM.

Between these moments of insomnia, Glass crafts perfect snapshots of service industry life: escaping to smoke breaks, enduring cover bands, seeking relief in shift drinks. The recurring image of stars hidden behind street lights serves as a perfect metaphor for dreams obscured by necessity, yet still visible to those who know where to look.

A particular strength lies in how Glass handles the song’s humor. Rather than playing for laughs, she lets the absurdity of situations speak for themselves, whether it’s pacing “like a fucking creep” outside a burrito shop or writing “Satan” on bathroom walls. This approach lends authenticity to both the comedy and the underlying exhaustion.

The track’s structure mirrors the circular thinking of insomnia, with repeated phrases and images creating a hypnotic effect that’s both comforting and slightly maddening. The production choice to keep things bedroom-recording raw serves this well, making the listener feel like a confidante rather than an audience.

For a debut single, “Burrito” accomplishes something remarkable – it takes a highly specific experience and makes it feel universal. Whether or not you’ve ever worked a closing shift, Glass’s portrait of searching for meaning in fluorescent-lit spaces resonates with anyone who’s ever felt caught between where they are and where they want to be.