Miss Olivia & The Interlopers put a new spin on The Police’s hit, “Message in a Bottle”

It’s a common icebreaker: what if you were stuck on a deserted island? Obviously, the question is reflecting on a hypothetical scenario, but The Police put a new perspective to that idea in 1979 with their hit, “Message in a Bottle”; we are all sitting on our own deserted islands waiting for someone to come to our aid.

You wouldn’t think of an S.O.S. call to be subtle, but that’s exactly how the emerging musicians of Miss Olivia & The Interlopers turned an already brilliant hit into a more astounding single. Unlike the urgency and anxiety pumping through “Message in a Bottle” from The Police, the cover of Miss Olivia & The Interlopers is solemn and sober, filled with melancholy and empty hope. With the change of tone and a lack of structure characterized by the electric guitar and grand pauses, “Message in a Bottle” is transformed from a desperate wail for help to a timid, hopeless inquiry for human company.

Have you ever walked upon the beach? Watched the waves crashing against the shore? Currents carry a lot of things, whether that be kelp, sea life, shells, trash, or bottle messages. But when something is thrown into the sea, there’s no telling where it will end up.

There’s something spiritual about the ocean; it’s therapeutic to many people, helps them connect with their past. And just as the ocean sounds can help a person meditate or sleep, lead singer Olivia Reardon has a voice that is reminiscent of old classics such as Gloria Gaynor, giving the song an immediate hook while imitating the pulsating of the waves with her vocal techniques. Guitarist Mike Sydloski (I assume) follows close behind, offering a structure that is loose and unpredictable like those water currents carrying the bottle across the sea. You can hear the strums begin to slow and you think it’s over, but it then picks up again with a new verse like the one that preceded it.

Just a cast away, an island lost at sea, oh
Another lonely day, no one here but me, oh
More loneliness than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair, oh

I’ll send an SOS to the world
I’ll send an SOS to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle

That’s the thing about false hope; you think you’ll catch on once your wish doesn’t come true, but you keep coming back for a second try. Reardon is sitting alone on this island hoping someone gets her message, but her hushed voice growing louder as she repeats “I hope that someone gets my message in the bottle” is not just a cry for help but a wail of despair from the knowledge that there is but a 0.001% chance that her S.O.S. will be answered.

And in the second verse, the speaker knows that her attempts have been in vain – “I should have known this right from the start.” But the somber tone is still there with the lack of structure in the instrumentals. There is no reason to keep trying, but Reardon doesn’t stop.

Walked out this morning,
I don’t believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems I’m not alone in being alone
A hundred billion castaways looking for a home

And that’s the thing about messages in a bottle – they only go one way. There is no pen pal program for deserted islands, and you never know what’s going to wash up on your shore next. And that’s what Reardon realizes when she wakes up that morning. All of us exist on islands of our own, sending out messages in bottles hoping to receive a response. We pay for one-way delivery with no way to come back around. And there is that bit of community there: “Hundred million castaways/Looking for a home.”

And like that one-way trip, the song doesn’t bounce back. The S.O.S. in the bottle floats away, leaving “Message in a Bottle” without an ending. I guess for a cover released during the COVID-19 pandemic, it is only fitting. All we can do is hope for an end, but with all of the depressing news, it is hard to see what lies beyond the horizon at this time.