You know, I love the idea that the entire overarching conceit of "River of Brakelights" appears to be Julian Casablancas getting, just, way, way too into spinning the actuality of bonkers NYC traffic into some quasi-poetic, philosophical/omniscient treatise about Darwinian societal ratraces and urban sprawl, to the extent that he unknowingly exasperates whoever's supposed to be squiring him back from whatever party they're trying to escape, and that person just up and bolts while Casablancas is obliviously belting out this rhythmically-exacting observational epic on a Brooklyn (or Williamsburg, maybe) street corner, I guess. And then at the end of the song, Julian's all "Where did you go? You were my ride home!" Sometimes you've just gotta know when to shut up.