We now return to our regularly scheduled programming. In weeks past, we've looked at lyrics that to varying degrees express the feelings or tell the stories of the people who wrote them. In contrast, The Decemberists' lead singer and songwriter Colin Meloy doesn't really do any of that. In a style that would be best defined as "literary," Meloy crafts stories about others, often using history or literature as a background. It's really ridiculously intellectual and sounds too pretentious to be true. But the songs are so damn catchy. Let's have a listen:
Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
Heart-carved tree trunk, Yankee bayonet
A sweetheart left behind
Far from the hills of the sea-swelled Carolinas
That's where my true love lies
Look for me when the sun-bright swallow
Sings upon the birch bough high
But you are in the ground with the wolves and the weevils
All a'chew upon your bones so dry
But when the sun breaks
To no more bullets in Battle Creek
Then will you make a grave
For I will be home then
I will be home then
I will be home then
I will be home then
Then
When I was a girl how the hills of Oconee
Made a seam to hem me in
There at the fair when our eyes caught, careless
Got my heart right pierced by a pin
But oh, did you see all the dead of Manassas
All the bellies and the bones and the bile
Though I lingered here with the blankets barren
And my own belly big with child
But when the sun breaks
To no more bullets in Battle Creek
Then will you make a grave
For I will be home then
I will be home then
I will be home then
I will be home then
Stems and bones and stone walls too
Could keep me from you
Skein of skin is all too few
To keep me from you
But oh, my love, though our bodies may be parted
Though our skin may not touch skin
Look for me with the sun-bright sparrow
I will come on the breath of the wind
-----------------
How great is the back and forth between Meloy and Laura Veirs? That much alone would sell me on this song without anything else; luckily, the music and the lyrics are typically good, if a little straightforward. But let's dive in anyway.
Meloy sets the scene right from the beginning, mentioning a "heart-carved tree trunk" and "a sweetheart left behind" that instantly give the song an old-time feel. Does anyone actually carve hearts in trees anymore, or is posting "<3" on someone's wall about as close as we get? This imagery stands in contrast to modern times, and fits in with the open-air nature imagery that comes later. As for "a sweetheart left behind," at this point in the song it's unclear exactly what that means, but combined with "Yankee bayonet", we can at least understand that this story takes place during the Civil War, and that someone has left his love behind to fight in it.
The ambiguity of "left behind" doesn't last long. "Far from the hills of the sea-swelled Carolinas/That's where my true love lies". So not only has the soldier died and left his girl alone, but he did so "far from the...Carolinas," which is ostensibly their home. That would make the dead soldier a Confederate, and the "Yankee bayonet" is most likely the weapon that killed him.
Incidentally, "Far from the hills of the sea-swelled Carolinas" is one of my favorite Decemberists lines. Not only is it beautiful imagery describing these states (on the east coast and filled with rivers and lakes), but something about the line, either the way it is written or sung or both, really transmits the affection and nostalgia that this girl feels for her home.
The next verse seems to be the soldier repeating the words with which he tried to reassure the girl before leaving: "look for me when the sun-bright swallow sings," i.e. to remember him when she hears the birds singing. But the next line is a sobering reality that he is "in the ground". The contrast is stark and a little bit sickening, a reminder that war rarely brings good fortune for those directly involved.
"Yankee Bayonet"'s chorus follows up on this idea: the only way that the soldier "will be home" is when the war is over ("no more bullets in Battle Creek [another area of South Carolina]") and people "make a grave" for him.
A common theme that has been brought up while analyzing these various songs is that saying a lot in very few words = win. The verse that follows the chorus is an excellent study in this tenet. First, we get another fantastic couple of lines that I enjoy for the same reason I enjoyed the line about the "sea-swelled Carolinas" above. "When I was a girl how the hills of Oconee/Made a seam to hem me in"; Oconee being a county in South Carolina. It's pretty, it's nostalgic, and in addition it sets up the next lines perfectly. Before, the girl felt trapped, but after falling in love, she feels like her horizons have been expanded infinitely. We get their origin story in two simple and sweet lines: "There at the fair when our eyes caught, careless/Got my heart right pierced by a pin". That first moment when you realize that you're in love with someone, you get "your heart...pierced by a pin". Great phrasing.
Moving on. The soldier discusses "the dead of Manassas" in gory detail, letting us know that it was probably in one of the two Battles of Manassas (known as the Battles of Bull Run in the north, an interesting touch) where he died. Meanwhile, his love is at home, her "blankets barren" but her "belly big with child." I understand that Meloy is telling us that her bed is empty, but isn't "barren" an interesting word to use here, considering that it often means "infertile"? I doubt that anything more is meant by it than it simply being an interesting contradiction, but it's something to think on.
The short bridge that leads into the final verse is essentially the soldier's lament that his own mortality keeps him from returning home-- imagery of a gravesite is prevalent with "stems" (flowers), "bones" (um...bones), and "stone walls" (headstones). It also probably refers to Stonewall Jackson, a Confederate general who was an integral part of the Battles of Manassas referred to earlier.
Finally, the last verse is sung by both voices together, in contrast to the rest of the song. They're reunited, but only in that she thinks of him when observing the world around her, as was mentioned in a previous verse. "I will come on the breath of wind" is a great line and somehow manages to end this thoroughly depressing tale on an upbeat note. His memory is everywhere around her-- though interestingly, no further mention is made of their unborn child together.
So what's the bottom line? It's interesting to think about the fact that "Yankee Bayonet" presents as its sympathetic subject a Confederate soldier and his love. So often, the "heroes" of this time period, whether in movies, television, literature, or even history books, are those from the North, valiantly fighting the good fight against slavery. But not only is that not the viewpoint presented here, but almost nothing is mentioned of the politics driving the war. Aside from the mentions of geography, this song could be about any couple caught in the middle of any war. Maybe that's the message that Meloy is trying to drive home, and maybe the war he describes isn't so different from our current one after all-- at least in this way.
Whew. This was an absolutely ridiculous song to write about, not because the general meaning of the song was difficult to determine, but because of the depth and intelligence of Meloy's words. You can already tell from the way in which he writes that he's a pretty smart guy. But the way that he weaves words and stories and history and music together is pretty amazing. I had to actually do a good amount of internet research on the Civil War to connect all the dots. Even more amazing then, that his songs are as accessible as they are.
Well, some of his songs. We'll just ignore this whole debacle.
P.S.- I didn't really get a chance to talk about the rhythm of the song. I'm not a poetry expert for anything beyond iambic pentameter, but I'm pretty convinced that the majority of all of the verses are basically dactylic in nature. This involves one stressed syllable followed by two unstressed syllables. Within the song, it rarely if ever follows the rhythm by strict rule, but the infrastructure is there. Just like we discussed in fun.'s "Be Calm," it causes the song to be ridiculously catchy and makes it easy to sing along.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Death Cab for Cutie: Company Calls Epilogue (2000)
Okay, I admit it: I kind of lied. I told you that I would bring you a straightforward narrative this week, and while it's true that this week's lyrics tell a sort of story, it's not really the one I was planning on. We've been doing a lot of heavy analysis recently and I wanted to look at something a little more personal.
Company Calls Epilogue
Synapse to synapse: the possibility's thin
I'm dressed up for free drinks and family greetings
On your wedding, your wedding, your wedding date
The figures in plastic on the wedding cake
That I took were so real
And I kept my distance: the complications cloud
The postcards and blip through fiberoptics
As the girls with the pigtails
Were running from little boys wearing bowties
Their parents bought them: "I'll catch you this time!"
Crashing through the parlor doors
What was your first reaction?
Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
Synapse to synapse: the sneaky kids had attached
Beer cans to the bumper so they could drive
Up and down the main drag
People would turn to see who's making the racket
It's not the first time
When they lay down the fish will swim upstream
And I'll contest, but they won't listen
When the casualty rate's near 100%
And there isn't a pension for second best
Or for hardly moving
Crashing through the parlor doors
What was your first reaction?
Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
-----------------
An alternate version of this song exists on Death Cab for Cutie's Forbidden Love EP, but it has the same lyrics. That's where I first encountered it. My high school girlfriend bought the EP for me for my birthday, and I proceeded to listen to it all on repeat; every play through, the words reminded me that I was dreaming of being with her best friend. Way to appreciate a gift.
The meaning of the song itself is clear enough: it has to do with Ben Gibbard (operating on the assumption that he doubles as the song's narrator) attending the wedding of someone for whom he has strong feelings, and proceeding to generally cause a disturbance and embarass himself, possibly even by telling the bride of his affections.
I say "possibly" because it's less clear whether the mayhem that he creates is real or imagined. For example, Gibbard says that "the figures in plastic on the wedding cake/that [he] took were so real," so it seems like this is something that he's actually going through with. Conversely, though Gibbard claims that he "[crashes] through the parlor doors....screaming, drunk, disorderly," the later line that he "can't spit...out" how he really feels seems to cast doubt on this. Perhaps the scene that he's discussing is only describing what he plans to do. "Synapse to synapse"...the ideas and emotions fire through the neurons of his mind.
Adding to the likelihood that this scenario is only playing out in Gibbard's mind, he underlines the fact that his situation is almost hopeless. Is there anywhere but in movies that the guy shows up, madly professes his love, and gets the girl? Gibbard sings that he'll "contest, but they won't listen" and notes that "the casualty rate's near 100%/and there isn't a pension for second best". In other words, there's almost nothing to gain from going through with his plan.
I know I'm kind of skipping all over the place, but I really enjoy the entirety of the second verse. "And I kept my distance: the complications cloud/postcards and blip through fiberoptics". Gibbard has tried to stay away while this girl is with someone else, but he still keeps making his presence known through "complications": postcards and (I'm thinking that "blip through fiberoptics" in 2000 speak means) emails. And what seems like some innocent observations of the wedding guests' children is really just another message to the bride: the girls are running from the boys, who are shouting "I'll catch you this time!"
It was harder for me to decipher the subsequent verse, starting with "Synapse to synapse: the sneaky kids had attached...", but as Gibbard describes the couple's wedding car driving up and down the street making noise and getting noticed, it appears to be more a comment on the fact that he can't escape the couple. Them being together, and the entire wedding itself, is just continual "racket" to Gibbard-- "it's not the first time".
Gibbard ends the song with a refrain of the chorus, indicating that he still can't go through with it and admit his feelings to the girl. "The white routine" (ie- the wedding) will still be "ingested inaccurately"-- not the prettiest of lines, but essentially stating that the wedding will still go on "inaccurately". This is both a hint that the events are not unfolding in the way that he wants them to, and that his story is inaccurate as well.
With this song armed in the CD player of my 2002 Accord, I became convinced that I didn't want to become either version of Ben Gibbard; not the guy who bursts into the wedding regretful and drunk, and certainly not the guy who becomes so ineffectual at admitting his own feelings that he's basically eaten alive by them. But I was kind of already ineffectual at admitting my own feelings, so instead of taking action, I wrote a poem for my creative writing class. Try not to be too judgmental-- this is an authentic bit of my history. Anyway:
February Epilogue
The guests have been left
mingling in the bad blood between us and
I'm standing outside the room where
you lie, purple tapestries blowing in the wind.
Burning spent cigarettes, the smoke clouds
our eyes and it was love until you left.
The fire has been set,
swallowing the air from this place and
you're watching in slow motion the palace
unwind and collapse now and here.
Lighting the way with spent youth, these pictures
remind us that pictures are all that's left.
You were my dream
but I can't let it all go with the old routine.
These tapestries will be suspended
indefinitely.
And we've been left
hiding behind these shades of meaning and
I'm wishing I was younger when
you sigh, and time can never begin again.
Leaving this whole world behind with the plans you
devised. I'm the only one who's left.
You were my dream
but I can't let it all go with the old routine.
These tapestries will be suspended
in your memory.
-----------------
Maybe it leans way too heavily on the original influence, but there are still some bits that I like, almost a decade later. The "purple tapestries" refer, of all things, to the down comforter on the bed of the girl I wanted. And the imagery of everything burning up around the two of us does a decent job of expressing that I felt like to expose my true feelings would ruin both my relationships with these girls. I couldn't "let it all go" and felt like I had to stay trapped in "the old routine". Basically, the poem was about me being too chickenshit.
It took a lot more time and a big kick in my ass before I finally admitted how I felt. Of course, I ended up almost entirely wrong about everything. I did get the girl I wanted and hurt the girl I was with, and it seemed to destroy everything for a while. But when time passed and all was said and done, the two of them became best friends again, regardless of all that had happened.
It's funny how things work out. I don't think that I have really learned much since then, except that it's funny how things work out. The rest is still the same. The music spurs me onward and outward.
An interesting side note to end on: Mr. Gibbard and I aren't so different:. I'm talking about these events almost a decade after they happened. Similarly, this won't be the last we hear of this wedding scene; he'll include a song on 2008's Narrow Stairs that revisits it, albeit with a bit of a different perspective. I'm sure that we'll get to that one eventually.
Next week will be less wistful and more focused as we break down the song I meant to post this week, and we discuss storytelling and narrative in music lyrics. I'm going to say it here so I don't end up going back on my word again: it's The Decemberists' "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)".
Company Calls Epilogue
Synapse to synapse: the possibility's thin
I'm dressed up for free drinks and family greetings
On your wedding, your wedding, your wedding date
The figures in plastic on the wedding cake
That I took were so real
And I kept my distance: the complications cloud
The postcards and blip through fiberoptics
As the girls with the pigtails
Were running from little boys wearing bowties
Their parents bought them: "I'll catch you this time!"
Crashing through the parlor doors
What was your first reaction?
Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
Synapse to synapse: the sneaky kids had attached
Beer cans to the bumper so they could drive
Up and down the main drag
People would turn to see who's making the racket
It's not the first time
When they lay down the fish will swim upstream
And I'll contest, but they won't listen
When the casualty rate's near 100%
And there isn't a pension for second best
Or for hardly moving
Crashing through the parlor doors
What was your first reaction?
Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
You were the one
But I can't spit it out when the date's been set
The white routine to be ingested inaccurately
-----------------
An alternate version of this song exists on Death Cab for Cutie's Forbidden Love EP, but it has the same lyrics. That's where I first encountered it. My high school girlfriend bought the EP for me for my birthday, and I proceeded to listen to it all on repeat; every play through, the words reminded me that I was dreaming of being with her best friend. Way to appreciate a gift.
The meaning of the song itself is clear enough: it has to do with Ben Gibbard (operating on the assumption that he doubles as the song's narrator) attending the wedding of someone for whom he has strong feelings, and proceeding to generally cause a disturbance and embarass himself, possibly even by telling the bride of his affections.
I say "possibly" because it's less clear whether the mayhem that he creates is real or imagined. For example, Gibbard says that "the figures in plastic on the wedding cake/that [he] took were so real," so it seems like this is something that he's actually going through with. Conversely, though Gibbard claims that he "[crashes] through the parlor doors....screaming, drunk, disorderly," the later line that he "can't spit...out" how he really feels seems to cast doubt on this. Perhaps the scene that he's discussing is only describing what he plans to do. "Synapse to synapse"...the ideas and emotions fire through the neurons of his mind.
Adding to the likelihood that this scenario is only playing out in Gibbard's mind, he underlines the fact that his situation is almost hopeless. Is there anywhere but in movies that the guy shows up, madly professes his love, and gets the girl? Gibbard sings that he'll "contest, but they won't listen" and notes that "the casualty rate's near 100%/and there isn't a pension for second best". In other words, there's almost nothing to gain from going through with his plan.
I know I'm kind of skipping all over the place, but I really enjoy the entirety of the second verse. "And I kept my distance: the complications cloud/postcards and blip through fiberoptics". Gibbard has tried to stay away while this girl is with someone else, but he still keeps making his presence known through "complications": postcards and (I'm thinking that "blip through fiberoptics" in 2000 speak means) emails. And what seems like some innocent observations of the wedding guests' children is really just another message to the bride: the girls are running from the boys, who are shouting "I'll catch you this time!"
It was harder for me to decipher the subsequent verse, starting with "Synapse to synapse: the sneaky kids had attached...", but as Gibbard describes the couple's wedding car driving up and down the street making noise and getting noticed, it appears to be more a comment on the fact that he can't escape the couple. Them being together, and the entire wedding itself, is just continual "racket" to Gibbard-- "it's not the first time".
Gibbard ends the song with a refrain of the chorus, indicating that he still can't go through with it and admit his feelings to the girl. "The white routine" (ie- the wedding) will still be "ingested inaccurately"-- not the prettiest of lines, but essentially stating that the wedding will still go on "inaccurately". This is both a hint that the events are not unfolding in the way that he wants them to, and that his story is inaccurate as well.
With this song armed in the CD player of my 2002 Accord, I became convinced that I didn't want to become either version of Ben Gibbard; not the guy who bursts into the wedding regretful and drunk, and certainly not the guy who becomes so ineffectual at admitting his own feelings that he's basically eaten alive by them. But I was kind of already ineffectual at admitting my own feelings, so instead of taking action, I wrote a poem for my creative writing class. Try not to be too judgmental-- this is an authentic bit of my history. Anyway:
February Epilogue
The guests have been left
mingling in the bad blood between us and
I'm standing outside the room where
you lie, purple tapestries blowing in the wind.
Burning spent cigarettes, the smoke clouds
our eyes and it was love until you left.
The fire has been set,
swallowing the air from this place and
you're watching in slow motion the palace
unwind and collapse now and here.
Lighting the way with spent youth, these pictures
remind us that pictures are all that's left.
You were my dream
but I can't let it all go with the old routine.
These tapestries will be suspended
indefinitely.
And we've been left
hiding behind these shades of meaning and
I'm wishing I was younger when
you sigh, and time can never begin again.
Leaving this whole world behind with the plans you
devised. I'm the only one who's left.
You were my dream
but I can't let it all go with the old routine.
These tapestries will be suspended
in your memory.
-----------------
Maybe it leans way too heavily on the original influence, but there are still some bits that I like, almost a decade later. The "purple tapestries" refer, of all things, to the down comforter on the bed of the girl I wanted. And the imagery of everything burning up around the two of us does a decent job of expressing that I felt like to expose my true feelings would ruin both my relationships with these girls. I couldn't "let it all go" and felt like I had to stay trapped in "the old routine". Basically, the poem was about me being too chickenshit.
It took a lot more time and a big kick in my ass before I finally admitted how I felt. Of course, I ended up almost entirely wrong about everything. I did get the girl I wanted and hurt the girl I was with, and it seemed to destroy everything for a while. But when time passed and all was said and done, the two of them became best friends again, regardless of all that had happened.
It's funny how things work out. I don't think that I have really learned much since then, except that it's funny how things work out. The rest is still the same. The music spurs me onward and outward.
An interesting side note to end on: Mr. Gibbard and I aren't so different:. I'm talking about these events almost a decade after they happened. Similarly, this won't be the last we hear of this wedding scene; he'll include a song on 2008's Narrow Stairs that revisits it, albeit with a bit of a different perspective. I'm sure that we'll get to that one eventually.
Next week will be less wistful and more focused as we break down the song I meant to post this week, and we discuss storytelling and narrative in music lyrics. I'm going to say it here so I don't end up going back on my word again: it's The Decemberists' "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)".
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The New Pornographers: Crash Years (2010)
Now for something a little bit different than what we've been looking at for the past two weeks. Previously, we analyzed a song by The Smashing Pumpkins, of which the lyrical approach was to describe general emotions and feelings. The next song we focused on was by fun., a band which the lead singer uses to tell personal stories through his lyrics. Today we'll veer off a little further into The New Pornographers. For those unfamiliar with the band and also at work or perhaps reading with their grandmothers, don't be afraid to click on the embedded video. I promise that it's actually quite pretty.
Crash Years
The skirts go up
Before the war
Among the madding crowds
They're ruined like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined
You are a living doll
Riding the circle tracks
Behind the walls of clocks
And you're ruined
Like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were rolled for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Light a candle's end
You are a light turned low
And like the rest of us
You've got those old eternity blues
Eternity blues
Your fingers raised, you're looking for the word
What you want is accident
Another drag
Spectacular view
What you can lose
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were closed in the crash years
Honey child you're not safe here
As a rule
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were rolled for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
The ruins were wild
The ruins were wild
Tonight will be an open mic
-----------------
It's a little bit more obscure than the others, isn't it? That's kind of par for the course with the New Pornographers; the case in point being 2007's Twin Cinema, of which the title track is dedicated to discussing (of all things) the Roxie movie theater on 16th Street in San Francisco. That's nothing that you would be able to gather just by looking at the lyrics. But the music behind the words of "Crash Years" is so easily accessible, especially given Neko Case's infectious vocals, that I can't help but want to dig a little deeper into songwriter A.C. Newman's words. Let's take a look at what we have and see if we can't at least bring the song generally into focus.
I really love the first few lines here. "The skirts go up/before the war/among the madding crowds". Not exactly mind-blowing, but I enjoy the double meaning, either that the girls wearing skirts are going somewhere, or the sexual connotation of skirts being lifted. The question, of course, is before which war, exactly? It's up for debate but there are clues elsewhere in the song. As far as "the madding crowds," okay-- now we have a bit of a picture of girls going up, presumably on a stage, in front of a bunch of frenzied people.
It's interesting to note that the phrase "the madding crowd" actually comes from a Thomas Hardy novel Far From the Madding Crowd. He, in turn, took the title from a Thomas Gray poem, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. The idea is that "the madding crowd" is something negative, something that needs to be escaped-- essentially city versus country living. However, in "Crash Years" we begin among the madding crowd, not far from it, and it seems like that is a positive state of being. Nevertheless, this happiness, frenzy, sexuality is all "before the war". Now everything is "ruined like the rest of us".
The second verse is pretty opaque and I'm not quite sure how to interpret it. But someone who is "riding the circle tracks...behind the walls of clocks" I would assume to be doing the same thing over and over again for a long period of time, stuck in a rut. And maybe this is because he or she is "a living doll", always subject to the whims of others, unable to speak for him or herself. There's the hint of something here about creation and creativity, but it won't become clearer until later.
As far as the chorus goes, "traffic was slow for the crash years" again has a double meaning. Aside from the obvious play on vehicles slowing down when there's some kind of accident, if we refer back to the girls going up in front of madding crowds from the first verse, we can gather that "traffic" means "patrons" or "business", and then of course "crash" will refer to an economic downturn. We're assured that it's not because of a lack of quality: "There's no other show like it 'round here/as a rule". Newman provides even more images of the economic downturn with "windows were rolled for the crash years" (and later "windows were closed for the crash years"). This is something we can see even in our current economic state. How depressing is it to drive down certain streets where stores, restaurants, bars, venues have been shut down and boarded up?
The short whistling bridge between the chorus and the next verse provides a window into the time frame that Newman is discussing. To me, the sound and tune really conjure images of old-school military. I can't exactly place my finger on it but it seems like something out of an old newsreel: the boys go off to the front! Something like that.
In the next two verses, I think that Newman is returning to his notions of creativity. We often talk about finding that "spark", but the subject of the song's "light [is] turned low" and he or she is "searching for the word". The next lines seem to be kind of a list, and if I were to punctuate it, it would go something like this: "What you want is: accident, another drag, spectacular view, what you can lose." The song's subject is looking for something, anything to light that fire, the happy accident of inspiration, a drag on his cigarette, staring out at a view, and most importantly, "what you can lose". He wants that which has already been lost, wants it back to be able to lose it again.
Also, and this deserves its own separate mention, the line "you've got those old eternity blues" is really kind of wistfully beautiful.
I understand that the stuff about creativity isn't readily apparent, and you may be wondering just what the hell I'm talking about. But for me what gave some great insight was the line "Honey child you're not safe here." In doing a little bit of research, this line is extremely close to something from an old Smiths song, "Panic" (the line there says "honey pie you're not safe here". Close enough). "Panic" is a song about dissatisfaction with the contemporary pop music of the time, including the words "the music that they constantly play/it says nothing to me about my life". A songwriter expressing dissatisfaction with radio music, which is often popularly referred to as soulless, trendy, repetitive, or corporate-- we can begin to see how this relates to the second verse of the song in which "living dolls...[ride] the circle tracks".
So we've got parallel running lines of depression, both economic and creative. Things were good at one point; they were vibrant and alive. But something happened to ruin all of it. And I'm sure that Newman intended us to extrapolate these themes to our society today, still reeling from the same problems that we faced along with "the war"-- whether we're talking about 1941 or 2001.
Keeping these ideas in mind, we can take a look at the outro and attempt to decipher its message. It's important that the line "the ruins were wild" is in the past tense; the sense now is that we are past what happened and are left dealing with what has been left behind. The final statement, "Tonight will be an open mic", brings us back to the imagery of the stage from the beginning of the song. Its interpretation largely depends on what you think Newman means by "open mic". It could of course refer to an open mic night, where members of an audience are allowed to perform on stage. Or "open" could mean "vacant," indicating that the shows "before the war" are over for good.
I can't prove it's what was intended, but I personally prefer the latter. Something about a lone microphone standing unattended inside an abandoned venue seems infinitely more poetic. But maybe it was meant to be ambiguous and is a message that what we build from these ruins is up to us.
I don't know about you, but I found that much more rewarding than "I have no idea what these words mean." It was a lot of work but I think it got us somewhere. Next week, I'll discuss a song with a narrative that is a little less thematic and a little more straightforward. See you then!
Crash Years
The skirts go up
Before the war
Among the madding crowds
They're ruined like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined
You are a living doll
Riding the circle tracks
Behind the walls of clocks
And you're ruined
Like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were rolled for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Light a candle's end
You are a light turned low
And like the rest of us
You've got those old eternity blues
Eternity blues
Your fingers raised, you're looking for the word
What you want is accident
Another drag
Spectacular view
What you can lose
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were closed in the crash years
Honey child you're not safe here
As a rule
Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were rolled for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
The ruins were wild
The ruins were wild
Tonight will be an open mic
-----------------
It's a little bit more obscure than the others, isn't it? That's kind of par for the course with the New Pornographers; the case in point being 2007's Twin Cinema, of which the title track is dedicated to discussing (of all things) the Roxie movie theater on 16th Street in San Francisco. That's nothing that you would be able to gather just by looking at the lyrics. But the music behind the words of "Crash Years" is so easily accessible, especially given Neko Case's infectious vocals, that I can't help but want to dig a little deeper into songwriter A.C. Newman's words. Let's take a look at what we have and see if we can't at least bring the song generally into focus.
I really love the first few lines here. "The skirts go up/before the war/among the madding crowds". Not exactly mind-blowing, but I enjoy the double meaning, either that the girls wearing skirts are going somewhere, or the sexual connotation of skirts being lifted. The question, of course, is before which war, exactly? It's up for debate but there are clues elsewhere in the song. As far as "the madding crowds," okay-- now we have a bit of a picture of girls going up, presumably on a stage, in front of a bunch of frenzied people.
It's interesting to note that the phrase "the madding crowd" actually comes from a Thomas Hardy novel Far From the Madding Crowd. He, in turn, took the title from a Thomas Gray poem, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. The idea is that "the madding crowd" is something negative, something that needs to be escaped-- essentially city versus country living. However, in "Crash Years" we begin among the madding crowd, not far from it, and it seems like that is a positive state of being. Nevertheless, this happiness, frenzy, sexuality is all "before the war". Now everything is "ruined like the rest of us".
The second verse is pretty opaque and I'm not quite sure how to interpret it. But someone who is "riding the circle tracks...behind the walls of clocks" I would assume to be doing the same thing over and over again for a long period of time, stuck in a rut. And maybe this is because he or she is "a living doll", always subject to the whims of others, unable to speak for him or herself. There's the hint of something here about creation and creativity, but it won't become clearer until later.
As far as the chorus goes, "traffic was slow for the crash years" again has a double meaning. Aside from the obvious play on vehicles slowing down when there's some kind of accident, if we refer back to the girls going up in front of madding crowds from the first verse, we can gather that "traffic" means "patrons" or "business", and then of course "crash" will refer to an economic downturn. We're assured that it's not because of a lack of quality: "There's no other show like it 'round here/as a rule". Newman provides even more images of the economic downturn with "windows were rolled for the crash years" (and later "windows were closed for the crash years"). This is something we can see even in our current economic state. How depressing is it to drive down certain streets where stores, restaurants, bars, venues have been shut down and boarded up?
The short whistling bridge between the chorus and the next verse provides a window into the time frame that Newman is discussing. To me, the sound and tune really conjure images of old-school military. I can't exactly place my finger on it but it seems like something out of an old newsreel: the boys go off to the front! Something like that.
In the next two verses, I think that Newman is returning to his notions of creativity. We often talk about finding that "spark", but the subject of the song's "light [is] turned low" and he or she is "searching for the word". The next lines seem to be kind of a list, and if I were to punctuate it, it would go something like this: "What you want is: accident, another drag, spectacular view, what you can lose." The song's subject is looking for something, anything to light that fire, the happy accident of inspiration, a drag on his cigarette, staring out at a view, and most importantly, "what you can lose". He wants that which has already been lost, wants it back to be able to lose it again.
Also, and this deserves its own separate mention, the line "you've got those old eternity blues" is really kind of wistfully beautiful.
I understand that the stuff about creativity isn't readily apparent, and you may be wondering just what the hell I'm talking about. But for me what gave some great insight was the line "Honey child you're not safe here." In doing a little bit of research, this line is extremely close to something from an old Smiths song, "Panic" (the line there says "honey pie you're not safe here". Close enough). "Panic" is a song about dissatisfaction with the contemporary pop music of the time, including the words "the music that they constantly play/it says nothing to me about my life". A songwriter expressing dissatisfaction with radio music, which is often popularly referred to as soulless, trendy, repetitive, or corporate-- we can begin to see how this relates to the second verse of the song in which "living dolls...[ride] the circle tracks".
So we've got parallel running lines of depression, both economic and creative. Things were good at one point; they were vibrant and alive. But something happened to ruin all of it. And I'm sure that Newman intended us to extrapolate these themes to our society today, still reeling from the same problems that we faced along with "the war"-- whether we're talking about 1941 or 2001.
Keeping these ideas in mind, we can take a look at the outro and attempt to decipher its message. It's important that the line "the ruins were wild" is in the past tense; the sense now is that we are past what happened and are left dealing with what has been left behind. The final statement, "Tonight will be an open mic", brings us back to the imagery of the stage from the beginning of the song. Its interpretation largely depends on what you think Newman means by "open mic". It could of course refer to an open mic night, where members of an audience are allowed to perform on stage. Or "open" could mean "vacant," indicating that the shows "before the war" are over for good.
I can't prove it's what was intended, but I personally prefer the latter. Something about a lone microphone standing unattended inside an abandoned venue seems infinitely more poetic. But maybe it was meant to be ambiguous and is a message that what we build from these ruins is up to us.
I don't know about you, but I found that much more rewarding than "I have no idea what these words mean." It was a lot of work but I think it got us somewhere. Next week, I'll discuss a song with a narrative that is a little less thematic and a little more straightforward. See you then!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
fun.: Be Calm (2009)
Now for something in total contrast to last week's selection.
fun.--yes, that's the correct punctuation--is a high-energy power-pop band that came out of the ashes of lead singer Nate Ruess' former band, The Format. Ruess is generally more well-known, in the circles that he is well-known at all, for his voice rather than his lyrics. But the truth is that they compliment each other pretty well, creating a sort of genuineness that forms a bond between the listener and Ruess.
Be Calm
As I walk through the streets of my new city
my back feeling much better, I suppose
I've reclaimed the use of my imagination
for better or for worse, I've yet to know
but I always knew you'd be the one to understand me,
I guess that's why it took so long to get things right.
Suddenly I'm lost
on my street
on my block
Oh why, oh why
Oh why haven't you been there for me?
Can't you see I'm losing my mind this time?
This time it's for real, I can see
All the treetops turning red
The beggars near bodegas grin
at me, I think they want something
I close my eyes, I tell myself to breathe
and be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes.
Be calm.
I'm scared that everyone is out to get me.
"These days before you speak to me you pause."
"I always see you looking out your window."
"After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."
Now every single crack, every penny that I pass,
says I should either leave or pick it up
But with every single buck I've made
I'm saddled with bad luck that came
the moment I was baptized or
when I found out one day I'm gonna die
if only I could find my people or my place in life
and when they come a'carolin'
so loud, so bright, the theremin
will lead us to a chorus
where we'll all rejoice and sing a song that goes:
Oh be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.
Take it from me, I've been there a thousand times.
You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive
and everything's wrong
It just gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.
I don't remember much that night,
just walking, thinking fondly of you
thinking how the worst is yet to come
When from that street corner came a song
And I can't remember the man,
the panhandler, or his melody.
The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee.
-----------------
So it's not exactly Billy Corgan's complex and meaningful verses, but that doesn't mean that these lines don't have any value. In fact, you could argue that "Be Calm" is at times more poetical than anything in "Muzzle". And rather than trying to describe a general feeling, Ruess' lines actually tell a story.
Ruess is experiencing a new status quo in his life, feeling "lost" as he wanders around his "new city". It seems like he's either just exiting or entering a new relationship, based on the lines "I always knew you'd be the one to understand me/I guess that's why it took so long to get things right." It's ambiguous, at least until a few lines later, but we get the idea that he's fresh out of a relationship both because he's in a new location physically and because he has "reclaimed the use of [his] imagination." Relationships are draining! They're a lot of effort to maintain properly, and it can often seem like there's no time for extraneous things like imagination. Hence Ruess' "back feeling much better"-- the burden has been lifted from him.
However, that doesn't mean that everything is great in life. He already wants back what he left behind: "why haven't you been there for me?" Not quite knowing where he is, Ruess starts "losing [his] mind," and becoming paranoid with the beggars he sees outside the convenience stores, which is apparently what "bodegas" means, according to Wikipedia. We're learning something!
It is at this point that the quality of the song really ratchets up, mostly due to the way the lyrics and music dovetail: as Ruess has what basically amounts to a panic attack, the pace of the music and words picks up, whirling around with a barely-controlled confusion. If you're singing along, as I often am, you'll notice that this part is really fun to sing. Why is that? If you are a total dork and guessed "because it's written in iambic quadrameter," you'd be right. Each line consists of four pairs of alternating stressed and unstressed syllables, giving the verse a great cadence. For example: "the beggars near bodegas grin."
I mean, basically. We're not talking Shakespeare here, so it's not perfect-- but everything here is at least iambic, even if what the "-meter" is fluctuates.
Ruess centers himself with the chorus: "be calm," and basically gives himself a little pep talk. Ths music slows back to normal to accomodate this.
What follows are, in my opinion, the best two portions of the entire song. As for the first, beginning with "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me": not only is 90% of it written in that old classic, iambic pentamenter, but what is sung is actually a dialogue between Ruess and his friends, displaying concern for the way he has recently been acting. The best part is that each of the lines are sung by different members of the band, creating a great interplay of voices.
Nate: "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me."
Female Friend: "These days before you speak to me you pause." (with an actual, awkward pause in there for effect!)
Male Friend: "I always see you looking out your window."
Other Male Friend "After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."
The proceeding bridge returns to the previous frenzied pace as Ruess works himself up again. He thinks of "his people [and] his place in life," both of which seem to be lacking. As such, the next chorus, though containing most of the same words as the first, is more frantic. He can't take his own advice.
In the final verse, Ruess seems to completely lose it. He refuses or is incapable of letting go of the past, "walking, thinking fondly" of it. His voice careens into the stratosphere as he sings: "I can't remember the man/the panhandler, or his melody./The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee."
As we dip into the chorus a final time, Ruess obviously isn't following his own advice to "be calm." The violins in the song, which began it with a certain kind of sad sweetness, fall off with an almost sinister undertone before fading out entirely.
A hell of a journey. This is actually the middle portion of Ruess' tale, spread across three separate albums and nearly seven years of music-- but more on that later.
fun.--yes, that's the correct punctuation--is a high-energy power-pop band that came out of the ashes of lead singer Nate Ruess' former band, The Format. Ruess is generally more well-known, in the circles that he is well-known at all, for his voice rather than his lyrics. But the truth is that they compliment each other pretty well, creating a sort of genuineness that forms a bond between the listener and Ruess.
Be Calm
As I walk through the streets of my new city
my back feeling much better, I suppose
I've reclaimed the use of my imagination
for better or for worse, I've yet to know
but I always knew you'd be the one to understand me,
I guess that's why it took so long to get things right.
Suddenly I'm lost
on my street
on my block
Oh why, oh why
Oh why haven't you been there for me?
Can't you see I'm losing my mind this time?
This time it's for real, I can see
All the treetops turning red
The beggars near bodegas grin
at me, I think they want something
I close my eyes, I tell myself to breathe
and be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes.
Be calm.
I'm scared that everyone is out to get me.
"These days before you speak to me you pause."
"I always see you looking out your window."
"After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."
Now every single crack, every penny that I pass,
says I should either leave or pick it up
But with every single buck I've made
I'm saddled with bad luck that came
the moment I was baptized or
when I found out one day I'm gonna die
if only I could find my people or my place in life
and when they come a'carolin'
so loud, so bright, the theremin
will lead us to a chorus
where we'll all rejoice and sing a song that goes:
Oh be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.
Take it from me, I've been there a thousand times.
You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive
and everything's wrong
It just gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.
I don't remember much that night,
just walking, thinking fondly of you
thinking how the worst is yet to come
When from that street corner came a song
And I can't remember the man,
the panhandler, or his melody.
The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee.
-----------------
So it's not exactly Billy Corgan's complex and meaningful verses, but that doesn't mean that these lines don't have any value. In fact, you could argue that "Be Calm" is at times more poetical than anything in "Muzzle". And rather than trying to describe a general feeling, Ruess' lines actually tell a story.
Ruess is experiencing a new status quo in his life, feeling "lost" as he wanders around his "new city". It seems like he's either just exiting or entering a new relationship, based on the lines "I always knew you'd be the one to understand me/I guess that's why it took so long to get things right." It's ambiguous, at least until a few lines later, but we get the idea that he's fresh out of a relationship both because he's in a new location physically and because he has "reclaimed the use of [his] imagination." Relationships are draining! They're a lot of effort to maintain properly, and it can often seem like there's no time for extraneous things like imagination. Hence Ruess' "back feeling much better"-- the burden has been lifted from him.
However, that doesn't mean that everything is great in life. He already wants back what he left behind: "why haven't you been there for me?" Not quite knowing where he is, Ruess starts "losing [his] mind," and becoming paranoid with the beggars he sees outside the convenience stores, which is apparently what "bodegas" means, according to Wikipedia. We're learning something!
It is at this point that the quality of the song really ratchets up, mostly due to the way the lyrics and music dovetail: as Ruess has what basically amounts to a panic attack, the pace of the music and words picks up, whirling around with a barely-controlled confusion. If you're singing along, as I often am, you'll notice that this part is really fun to sing. Why is that? If you are a total dork and guessed "because it's written in iambic quadrameter," you'd be right. Each line consists of four pairs of alternating stressed and unstressed syllables, giving the verse a great cadence. For example: "the beggars near bodegas grin."
I mean, basically. We're not talking Shakespeare here, so it's not perfect-- but everything here is at least iambic, even if what the "-meter" is fluctuates.
Ruess centers himself with the chorus: "be calm," and basically gives himself a little pep talk. Ths music slows back to normal to accomodate this.
What follows are, in my opinion, the best two portions of the entire song. As for the first, beginning with "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me": not only is 90% of it written in that old classic, iambic pentamenter, but what is sung is actually a dialogue between Ruess and his friends, displaying concern for the way he has recently been acting. The best part is that each of the lines are sung by different members of the band, creating a great interplay of voices.
Nate: "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me."
Female Friend: "These days before you speak to me you pause." (with an actual, awkward pause in there for effect!)
Male Friend: "I always see you looking out your window."
Other Male Friend "After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."
The proceeding bridge returns to the previous frenzied pace as Ruess works himself up again. He thinks of "his people [and] his place in life," both of which seem to be lacking. As such, the next chorus, though containing most of the same words as the first, is more frantic. He can't take his own advice.
In the final verse, Ruess seems to completely lose it. He refuses or is incapable of letting go of the past, "walking, thinking fondly" of it. His voice careens into the stratosphere as he sings: "I can't remember the man/the panhandler, or his melody./The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee."
As we dip into the chorus a final time, Ruess obviously isn't following his own advice to "be calm." The violins in the song, which began it with a certain kind of sad sweetness, fall off with an almost sinister undertone before fading out entirely.
A hell of a journey. This is actually the middle portion of Ruess' tale, spread across three separate albums and nearly seven years of music-- but more on that later.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The Smashing Pumpkins: Muzzle (1995)
Let's start off with a song that has some of my favorite lyrics ever. As an angsty 13-year-old, I sat in front of my computer, listening to this and chatting with girls who I would never talk to face to face or even meet. I couldn't help but feel a complete connection to these words right from the first lines: "I fear that I am ordinary/just like everyone". It sums up so much in such little space. Everyone is out there trying to make a name for themselves, trying to be a unique person, trying to accomplish something. But one of our biggest fears is that we won't be able to do it-- how can we come to terms with that possibility?
Muzzle
I fear that I am ordinary,
just like everyone
to lie here and die among the sorrows
adrift among the days
for everything I ever said
and everything i've ever done is gone and dead
as all things must surely have to end
and great loves will one day have to part
I know that I am meant for this world
my life has been extraordinary
blessed and cursed and won
time heals but I'm forever broken
by and by the way...
have you ever heard the words
I'm singing in these songs?
It's for the girl I've loved all along
can a taste of love be so wrong?
as all things must surely have to end
and great loves will one day have to part
I know that I am meant for this world
and in my mind as I was floating
far above the clouds
some children laughed I'd fall for certain
for thinking that I'd live forever
but I knew exactly where I was
and I knew the meaning of it all
and I knew the distance to the sun
and I knew the echo that is love
and I knew the secrets in your spires
and I knew the emptiness of youth
and I knew the solitude of heart
and I knew the murmurs of the soul
and the world is drawn into your hands
and the world is etched upon your heart
and the world so hard to understand
is the world you can't live without
and I knew the silence of the world
-----------------
It's great, right? Well, I think it's great.
The chorus is one of the most interesting bits here. "all things must surely have to end/and great loves will one day have to part." Essentially that everything in the world, even the best things, will cease to be eventually. A downer, to be sure. But the last line, "I know that I am meant for this world", piques my curiosity, although its meaning may not become entirely clear until the song's end. I'll come back to it later on.
Lyricist and lead singer Billy Corgan has said that this song was written partially as a preemptive attack on critics who, hearing The Smashing Pumpkins' grandiose double album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, were "going to tell [him] to shut up." That in mind, there has to be a sense of playfulness when he asks "have you ever heard the words I'm singing in these songs?/It's for the girl I've loved all along". It's easy for a critic or a casual listener or an angsty 13-year-old to classify a lot of Corgan's work as either love songs or songs lamenting its loss, but that would be underselling his ability to comment on life in general.
Similarly, it's easy to dismiss other lines as Corgan mouthing off to the critics who would peg him as arrogant or as a know-it-all. Certainly that's what he's doing when he sings that "children laughed [he'd] fall for certain/for thinking [he'd] live forever". But with the eight line interlude beginning with "I knew..." there seems to be something else at play. For starters, the things described here range from the vague ("the meaning of it all") to the specific, scientific ("the distance to the sun"); the emotional ups ("the echo that is love") to the emotional downs ("the solitude of heart"). It seems to me, here, that these eight lines are Corgan's interpretation of everything about life; these are things that he was unable to even remotely comprehend before, but he is slowly beginning to understand. In this way, "Muzzle" plays as a coming-of-age story.
Which leads us into the pivotal moment of the song. "And the world is drawn into your hands/and the world is etched upon your heart/and the world so hard to understand/is the world you can't live without". Stated simply: The world we live in can often really suck, but it's part of us and it's all we have. This doubles for the meaning of the last verse of the chorus that I said I'd get back to: "I know that I am meant for this world."
What makes this interesting is that you would think it would be the other way around; either a dreamy desire for some other world, some place where things are perfect, or a total rejection of the world and a desire to escape it. But that's not what's here. He knows that he is "meant for this world," which is thoroughly "etched upon his heart".
The message becomes to strike out, soldier on, make a name for yourself, become unique, come to terms with life. Do it all in spite of "the silence of the world" and you've accomplished something.
That just about does it for me as far as the lyrics go, although there is, of course, room to delve deeper and for other interpretations. Some people seem to think that the entire song revolves around a man who has committed suicide and is looking back on his life, but given what we've analyzed, I really think that Corgan would view that as a cowardly alternative. I choose to believe it's the slightly more positive notions I've espoused here.
Future posts may or may not get into the actual music behind the words, depending on how much it is warranted. But a couple things of note here as we wrap up:
First, the drumming here is ridiculously good and infuses the song with an incredible energy. Listen to the drum fills after the second line of each verse and tell me that this song isn't going places. Second, Muzzle features a Smashing Pumpkins trademark of the music going from loud to soft to loud again. The instruments cut off right with "for thinking I'd live forever" and it is a slow build back to brilliant euphony from "I knew the meaning of it all" through to the end of the song.
Muzzle
I fear that I am ordinary,
just like everyone
to lie here and die among the sorrows
adrift among the days
for everything I ever said
and everything i've ever done is gone and dead
as all things must surely have to end
and great loves will one day have to part
I know that I am meant for this world
my life has been extraordinary
blessed and cursed and won
time heals but I'm forever broken
by and by the way...
have you ever heard the words
I'm singing in these songs?
It's for the girl I've loved all along
can a taste of love be so wrong?
as all things must surely have to end
and great loves will one day have to part
I know that I am meant for this world
and in my mind as I was floating
far above the clouds
some children laughed I'd fall for certain
for thinking that I'd live forever
but I knew exactly where I was
and I knew the meaning of it all
and I knew the distance to the sun
and I knew the echo that is love
and I knew the secrets in your spires
and I knew the emptiness of youth
and I knew the solitude of heart
and I knew the murmurs of the soul
and the world is drawn into your hands
and the world is etched upon your heart
and the world so hard to understand
is the world you can't live without
and I knew the silence of the world
-----------------
It's great, right? Well, I think it's great.
The chorus is one of the most interesting bits here. "all things must surely have to end/and great loves will one day have to part." Essentially that everything in the world, even the best things, will cease to be eventually. A downer, to be sure. But the last line, "I know that I am meant for this world", piques my curiosity, although its meaning may not become entirely clear until the song's end. I'll come back to it later on.
Lyricist and lead singer Billy Corgan has said that this song was written partially as a preemptive attack on critics who, hearing The Smashing Pumpkins' grandiose double album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, were "going to tell [him] to shut up." That in mind, there has to be a sense of playfulness when he asks "have you ever heard the words I'm singing in these songs?/It's for the girl I've loved all along". It's easy for a critic or a casual listener or an angsty 13-year-old to classify a lot of Corgan's work as either love songs or songs lamenting its loss, but that would be underselling his ability to comment on life in general.
Similarly, it's easy to dismiss other lines as Corgan mouthing off to the critics who would peg him as arrogant or as a know-it-all. Certainly that's what he's doing when he sings that "children laughed [he'd] fall for certain/for thinking [he'd] live forever". But with the eight line interlude beginning with "I knew..." there seems to be something else at play. For starters, the things described here range from the vague ("the meaning of it all") to the specific, scientific ("the distance to the sun"); the emotional ups ("the echo that is love") to the emotional downs ("the solitude of heart"). It seems to me, here, that these eight lines are Corgan's interpretation of everything about life; these are things that he was unable to even remotely comprehend before, but he is slowly beginning to understand. In this way, "Muzzle" plays as a coming-of-age story.
Which leads us into the pivotal moment of the song. "And the world is drawn into your hands/and the world is etched upon your heart/and the world so hard to understand/is the world you can't live without". Stated simply: The world we live in can often really suck, but it's part of us and it's all we have. This doubles for the meaning of the last verse of the chorus that I said I'd get back to: "I know that I am meant for this world."
What makes this interesting is that you would think it would be the other way around; either a dreamy desire for some other world, some place where things are perfect, or a total rejection of the world and a desire to escape it. But that's not what's here. He knows that he is "meant for this world," which is thoroughly "etched upon his heart".
The message becomes to strike out, soldier on, make a name for yourself, become unique, come to terms with life. Do it all in spite of "the silence of the world" and you've accomplished something.
That just about does it for me as far as the lyrics go, although there is, of course, room to delve deeper and for other interpretations. Some people seem to think that the entire song revolves around a man who has committed suicide and is looking back on his life, but given what we've analyzed, I really think that Corgan would view that as a cowardly alternative. I choose to believe it's the slightly more positive notions I've espoused here.
Future posts may or may not get into the actual music behind the words, depending on how much it is warranted. But a couple things of note here as we wrap up:
First, the drumming here is ridiculously good and infuses the song with an incredible energy. Listen to the drum fills after the second line of each verse and tell me that this song isn't going places. Second, Muzzle features a Smashing Pumpkins trademark of the music going from loud to soft to loud again. The instruments cut off right with "for thinking I'd live forever" and it is a slow build back to brilliant euphony from "I knew the meaning of it all" through to the end of the song.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Also
I really hope to make this thing look better at some point in the future. But the first order of business is to actually get posting.
Slipping Into the Airwaves
Hey there, welcome to Slipping Into the Airwaves. This blog came about because a friend of mine regularly posts to her own blog about her favorite poetry and what it means to her individually.
That's great. I enjoy reading it. But even having been a writer of bad poetry for over a decade now, I usually only skim the actual poetry itself. I've never been inspired by it-- The Waste Land being basically the only notable exception.
Where I find my inspiration is in music lyrics. There's nothing quite like a new CD (MP3?) or two to get me writing again.
The point of this blog is to present some of my favorite lyrics, analyze them and the specific things they bring to mind, the way they interact with music to form a whole, discuss how one style of lyrics can be just as valid as another, and, in general, get you to love these songs as much as I do.
A simple task, then. Care to join me?
That's great. I enjoy reading it. But even having been a writer of bad poetry for over a decade now, I usually only skim the actual poetry itself. I've never been inspired by it-- The Waste Land being basically the only notable exception.
Where I find my inspiration is in music lyrics. There's nothing quite like a new CD (MP3?) or two to get me writing again.
The point of this blog is to present some of my favorite lyrics, analyze them and the specific things they bring to mind, the way they interact with music to form a whole, discuss how one style of lyrics can be just as valid as another, and, in general, get you to love these songs as much as I do.
A simple task, then. Care to join me?