No Compassion, by the Talking Heads, from '77.
David Byrne mercilessly captures the ineffectual and frustrated attempts at anger of the over-analytical, ever-reasonable contemporary (male?) soul. It's become a sort of perverse anthem for me during the periods where I've fallen into the jaws of that soft trap. "My interest level is dropping, my interest level is dropping!" Byrne shouts, his voice on the verge of breaking, his vocabulary still failing to turn up anything but the most detatched and general sentiments.