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Sunday, February 27, 2011

Panic! At the Disco: When the Day Met the Night (2008)

As I continue to write these posts delving into the lyrical meanings of some of my favorite songs, it occurs to me time and time again that the interpretations of the songs that I give here are, of course, only my opinion. While I often write as if what I'm saying is fact, it's really just whatever meaning of the song is true to me, based on what I can glean from the lyrics and what I know about the songwriters/band. That's the great thing about music: what I get out of it might not be the same thing that you get out of it might not be the same thing that my mother gets out of it, but that doesn't make any of our interpretations any less valid. So with that in mind, let's have a listen to this week's selection:



When the Day Met the Night

When the moon fell in love with the sun
all was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night

When the sun found the moon
she was drinking tea in her garden
under the green umbrella trees
in the middle of summer

When the moon found the sun
he looked like he was barely hanging on
but her eyes saved his life
in the middle of summer

In the middle of summer
all was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night
Summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night
Summer, summer, summer
All was golden when the day met the night

So he said, "Would it be all right
If we just sat and talked for a little while?
If in exchange for your time
I gave you this smile?"

So she said, "That's okay.
As long as you can make a promise
not to break my little heart
or leave me all alone in the summer."

Well, he was just hanging around
then he fell in love
And he didn't know how
but he couldn't get out
Just hanging around
then he fell in love

In the middle of summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night
Summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night

When the moon fell in love with the sun
all was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night

-----------------

This song probably has the most simplistic lyrics of any of the songs we've looked at so far. It's evident that most people just kind of take them at face value, too. As the first post on the songmeanings page for "When the Day Met the Night" states (spelling corrected for maximum sanity): "I think the moon and sun are supposed to be synonyms for a guy and a girl. Then the rest of the song would be kinda self-explanatory." It's perfectly reasonable to look at the song this way: the moon stands for a lonely and/or depressed man who "looked like he was barely hanging on" before he met a woman, the sun, who "saved his life". As is often the case, he didn't mean to fall for her--"he was just hanging around/then he fell in love/And he didn't know how/but he couldn't get out"-- but obviously it turned out well for him, as "all was golden" afterward.

If you couldn't tell by this point, though, I tend to think that the lyrics are a really important part of music. Why such fondness for something so simple? Strangely, it's the last few seconds of "When the Day Met the Night" that add a layer of depth and make the song worthwhile. As the music begins to fade out, very faintly in the background, you can hear the sound of a group of children playing together, and a little girl gives a playful scream.

No kidding, I was almost brought to tears the first time that I heard this. At first, I couldn't figure out why I was having that particular reaction, especially to something that seems so inconsequential. But then it hit me. It's not like I hang around a lot of kids, or people with kids. Even if I do interact with some who are the children of my parents' friends or whatever, it's not like there's a big group of them all playing together. And I'm definitely not the shady pedophile hanging out at the local park (you can breathe a sigh of relief).

Seriously, though-- It had been over a decade since I had heard kids playing like that! Since I was a kid myself. It really brought me back to that time and gave the song some depth.

This is why I brought up the topic of different individuals' interpretations of the same song. It's very likely that for someone else listening to this song, what seems like an out-of-place, high-pitched shriek at the end would annoy him or her, or at the very least not be anything in which to take a particular interest.

But I really do think that most professional musicians (or at least the good ones) try not to sully their work with random bits of sound for no reason. If they're interested at all in creating nuanced, complex work, there has to be a method to the madness and a reason for everything they put into their music, or else it will come off as haphazard. So there has to be an explanation-- why would Panic! At the Disco mix these sounds into an otherwise normal song? To me, it has to be in order to elicit the emotion that I felt while listening to it: a deep nostalgia for childhood.

Viewed in this context, the lyrics as a whole start to come into focus. They're almost like something out of a child's storybook-- purposefully simplistic, with lots of broad, colorful imagery, as well as characters who have their hearts on their sleeve.

When the man meets the woman, she's "drinking tea in her garden/under the green umbrella trees". This instantly brings to mind images of outdoor tea parties, which are, of course, the stereotypical specialty of little girls. So it's not really a man meeting a woman at all, but more of a boy meeting a girl. Again, this is totally my interpretation, but it seems to hold under the weight of the song: it's about being a child and having feelings for a girl for the first time.

The characters' words are simple yet sincere, very straightforward-- "Would it be all right if we just sat and talked for a little while, if...I gave you this smile?" The response: "As long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart". It's naive, but it's charming in its own way. And finally, furthering my theory are the abundant references to the summer, that time of freedom and vacation that exists basically only for kids and people working in television. Score.

I guess the bottom line here is two-fold: one, the lyrics of a song alone don't always convey its full meaning. It's not always totally necessary to go as in-depth into the words as some of these posts have been (although it often is-- which is the point, of course). Two, I like to latch onto small bits of nothing and expand them into insane theories. This does not only apply to music.

Ahem.

Join me next week when I celebrate my ten-week anniversary writing these things. And then, the week after, a little something different.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Smashing Pumpkins: To Sheila (1998)

I was fourteen years old on June 2, 1998, when The Smashing Pumpkins' album Adore was released. This was back in those halcyon days before the internet made everything instantly downloadable two weeks before the official release date; when a "release date" was actually an anticipated event. The local rock station in LA had been playing the pre-release single, "Ava Adore," on heavy rotation for weeks, and it seemed like the stars were aligning for another Smashing Pumpkins success three long years after 1995's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness had gone eight times platinum. This new album was something that I could not live without.

But I was fourteen years old, and I did not have a car, and I did not have much money, and pretty much the only thing I could do was beg my parents to take me to the local music store and buy the CD for me. So I begged, and I begged, and I begged some more for good measure, and I was denied. In my frustration, I began to scrawl on bits of paper and tape them to various locations around the house. The front door. The door to my parents' bedroom. The landing at the top of the stairs. My fucking forehead. Each location, the same simple message:

"I WANT ADORE"

"I WANT ADORE"

"I WANT ADORE"

Mostly what I needed at that point was a blistering rock anthem capable of somehow expressing the ridiculous teenage torment I was feeling inside. A new Pumpkins album seemed like the perfect opportunity. And yet, and yet...when I finally made it to the store that next day, cracked the CD open, and began to listen, this is what I heard:


(I apologize for this shitty, unofficial video. It was all I could find.)

To Sheila

twilight fades
through blistered avalon
the sky's cruel torch
on aching autobahn
into the uncertain divine
we scream into the last divide

you make me real
you make me real
strong as I feel
you make me real

Sheila rides on crashing nightingales
intake eyes leave passing vapor trails
with blushing brilliance alive
because it's time to arrive

you make me real
you make me real
strong as I feel
you make me real

lately I just can't seem to believe
discard my friends to change the scenery
it meant the world to hold a bruising faith
but now it's just a matter of grace

a summer storm graces all of me
highway warm sing silent poetry
and I could bring you the light
and take you home into the night

lately I just can't seem to believe
discard my friends to change the scenery
it meant the world to hold a bruising faith
but now it's just a matter of grace

-----------------

Not exactly the anthem for which I had been hoping, but it really made me think about things in a different way. I'll get back to that later.

We talked last week about "Kill," which was a love song but-not-really a love song, a more emo-oriented expression of self-pity and inability to act on one's feelings. "To Sheila" is a love song wrapped up in a discussion of life changes. It's almost the antithesis of "Kill", which is hopelessly mired in inaction and in the past. "To Sheila" is all about moving forward.

The first verse deals with the fading of the old order, of whatever life Corgan feels that he's leaving behind. That day is just ending as "twilight fades". It's never easy to go through life changes, especially when it's impossible to tell what is coming next, and we very often resist this type of thing even if it might ultimately be good for us. "Into the uncertain divine/we scream into the last divide."

We can pretty much assume that the chorus is directed at "Sheila," since the song is called "To Sheila"-- whoever or whatever that may be. I like to think that Sheila is either a friend or a girlfriend helping Corgan with this difficult transition in his life. But "Sheila" might also be representative of Corgan's music as a whole, as he moves from the bombast of the Mellon Collie-era Pumpkins to the quiet, retrospective Adore-era. When Corgan sings "you make me real," it is directed towards his constant, whether that constant is embodied in a person or simply his passion for creating music; it's what is holding him together. The second part of the chorus is important too: "strong as I feel/you make me real". No matter how in-control he feels, or how much he feels he has his life together, he knows that "Sheila" is responsible for a large part of that, too.

The verse that comes next is packed with some fantastic imagery. Any reference to nightingales, at least for me, can't help but allude to that famous scene from Romeo and Juliet. In that scene, Juliet tries to convince Romeo to stay with her; that the birds they hear outside are nightingales, birds of the night, rather than larks, birds of the morning.  Corgan's reference to "crashing nightingales" possibly also heralds the morning, the imminent breaking of a new day. The line "intake eyes leave passing vapor trails," apart from being beautiful, brings to mind jet engines leaving their trails across the sky. Sheila, whoever or whatever she may be, is leaving a mark on Corgan, "with blushing brilliance alive"-- a description of the exhilaration he feels and a subtle nod to post-sex blush.

The bridge of "To Sheila" is where Corgan but quietly but powerfully gets to the point of the song, singing about the changes occurring in his life: "lately I just can't seem to believe/discard my friends to change the scenery". Haven't we all reached a point in our lives where we want to just forget about everything we know? I'm definitely familiar with the impulse to go somewhere else, start anew, especially after a big life change. Some people are actually capable of this and some aren't, and who knows whether it's actually a good idea, but the drive is still there.

We finally come to the absolute heart of "To Sheila", and possibly of the entirety of Adore itself: "It meant the world to hold a bruising faith/but now it's just a matter of grace". The "bruising faith" that Corgan refers to here can be interpreted as both heavy rock anthems of the Pumpkins' past and the angry attitude of disenfranchised youth that Corgan seems to know intimately. The alternative to these two things is simple: "grace", practically embodied in this delicate album-opener.

I'm almost hesitant to get into the final verse, given that the bridge is so powerful. But I'll outline it quickly: Corgan has now come to accept and embrace the change that he was resisting in the first verse. "A summer storm graces all of" him, and the use of "grace," repeated from the bridge, is important; it lets us know that this isn't a violent tempest but a light shower of water, a sign of rebirth. His perspective has changed; he's now ready to give back to this relationship, promising: "I [can] bring you the light/and take you home into the night." The fading twilight and the end of the old perspective now ring with a note of hope.

Really, though, all of what's important here has already been stated. I'll write it again: It meant the world to hold a bruising faith, but now it's just a matter of grace. Corgan repeats this as the song beautifully trails off into nothing, into the future, into this new night, into the unknown.

Fourteen-year-old me tried to take in the advice that the song and the album as a whole was trying to convey: there is another way. Not everything has to be a tantrum, not everything has to involve striking out against the cruel world. Poise, grace, and tranquility can function just as well. Acoustic finger-picking instead of blistering guitar solos is an acceptable musical choice. It all ties together.

But I was fourteen. Even if I saw there was another route, that doesn't mean that I was capable of taking it.

And even now, it seems like still blindly throwing notes up on the wall, petulantly demanding whatever it is that I can't have.

"I want (you to) adore (me)". Isn't that right?

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Jimmy Eat World: Kill (2004)

Today's song is my personal favorite by longtime emo stalwarts Jimmy Eat World, from their album Futures. Though they're still active today and are still putting out some good music, in my humble opinion nothing can really match the work they did back in '04. Let's have a listen:



Kill

Well you're just across the street
Looks a mile to my feet
I want to go to you
Funny how I'm nervous still
I've always been the easy kill
I guess I always will

Could it be that everything goes around by chance
Or only one way that it was always meant to be
You kill me
You always know the perfect thing to say
I know what I should do but I just can't walk away

I can picture your face well
From the bar in my hotel
I wish I'd go to you
I pick up, put down the phone
Like your favorite Heatmiser song goes:
'It's just like being alone...'

Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain
I need answers for what all the waiting I've done means
You kill me
You've got some nerve but can't face your mistakes
I know what I should do but I just can't turn away

So go on, love
Leave while there's still hope for escape
Got to take what you can these days
There's so much ahead
And so much regret
I know what you want to say
I know it but can't help feeling differently
I loved you
And I should have said it
But tell me
Just what has it ever meant

I can't help it baby
This is who I am
I'm sorry but I can't just go turn off how I feel
You kill me
You build me up but just to watch me break
I know what I should do but I just can't walk away 

-----------------

The first thing that strikes me about this song is just how damn earnest it is. That's kind of one of Jimmy Eat World's strengths, and lead singer/songwriter Jim Adkins knows how to fuse the words with his voice to get across just the right kind of emotion.

This song is a pretty easy analysis. It's about love, yes, but unlike most love songs, there's not really any idealization of the other person present. It's got that emo tinge (despite how overwrought the term has become) that's more "realistic"-- love is flawed, love can be an unfortunate circumstance. "Kill" is all about that unfortunate circumstance; Adkins is in love with a girl that he shouldn't love, but he can't bring himself to tell her-- and furthermore, he feels like he's missed his chance to be with her. "I know what I should do but I just can't walk away."

But bringing it back to the start: the two main verses of the song deal with Adkins literally being unable to go tell a girl how he feels. "You're just across the street/looks a mile to my feet". He can't even pick up the phone and call her: "I wish I'd go to you/I pick up, put down the phone". It's clear that he knows the girl fairly well; whether she's an ex-girlfriend of Adkins or simply someone he wants to be with isn't clear. Nevertheless, he "can picture [her] face well," he knows her "favorite Heatmeiser song," and is aware of her strengths ("you always know the perfect thing to say") and her flaws ("you've got some nerve but can't face your mistakes"). Thinking of all of this kills Adkins inside-- even with her flaws, he's totally smitten by the girl.

The bridge contains probably the most important lyrics in the song, or at least the best. Adkins urges the girl to "leave while there's still hope for escape," because there's no use being stuck with a guy as indecisive as he is. The next lines nail the dichotomy: "there's so much ahead" for her "and so much regret" for him.

He knows "what she [wants] to say...but can't help feeling differently"; in other words, either that she doesn't or no longer loves him, despite his strong feelings for her. But it's nothing that he's ever communicated: "I loved you/And I should have said it". The way these lines are sung are amazing, and you can literally hear the regret and pain in Adkins' voice. Like I said before, it's just so earnest, so honest.

So the moral here is to seize the day, to stop being such a fuck-up and walk across the street, pick up the phone, be honest, let people know what you think of them before it's too late.

Okay. A stupid story about how Futures came to be in my possession: an aunt had sent the CD to my mom to pass on to me as a Christmas gift. She forgot all about it, my aunt came into town and, thinking she was relating to me, said "I just saw Jimmy Eat World on the Tonight Show. They were pretty good." I had no idea why the hell she was talking to me about Jimmy Eat World, couldn't get a bead on whether she was a fan or was somehow mocking me. So I kind of laughed awkwardly, made a joke, and brushed her off.

Only later that night, when my mom hastily gave me the unwrapped CD and said "this was supposed to be from your aunt" did I understand what had been happening there. I thought about approaching my aunt and apologizing for being a dick, but somehow the opportunity just never seemed right. I'd missed my window to right that ship.

Love can be like that, where you can't quite figure out what's going on until it hits you when it's too late. Everything depends so much on perfect timing, on two people occupying the same space, physically and emotionally, at the same time. "Star-crossed" as a term never seemed more apt. I've talked before about how music can sometimes drive me, and this is a great example. Adkins in "Kill" is relatable yet pathetic, paralyzed to the point of indecision, wanting more but knowing that opportunity has passed him by.

"I loved you, and I should have said it." The ultimate romantic regret.

"I'm sorry but I can't just go turn off how I feel." If you have feelings for someone, do you let them know, even if the timing isn't right? 

You tell me.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Fall Out Boy: It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't (2007)

It's strange, but essentially, the previous five weeks have been about establishing my credibility and legitimizing this one post that I am about to bring you. Fall Out Boy is awesome. But I fear that their myspace-styled overexposure and post-emo roots are going to relegate them to "that one band that the teenyboppers used to like" status (if it's not at that place already). So this will be my attempt to show the naysayers that there is actually a lot to like behind the distractions of male eyeshadow and swooping haircuts. It's not even my favorite Fall Out Boy track, simply the one with which I'm currently obsessed-- and after all, I have to save something for future posts, don't I?



It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't

I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself
So listen carefully to every word I say:
I'm the only one who's gonna get away with making excuses today

You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have
Blackmailed myself
'Cause I ain't got anyone else
This is a stick up
Give us all your inspiration
I've got the red carpet blues, baby

Put your hands in the air and don't make a sound
But don't get the wrong idea
We're gonna shoot you
We're gonna shoot you
And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet
That could change just how this goes
No
We're gonna shoot you
We're gonna shoot you

When I said that I'd return to you I meant more like a relapse
Now and again I think "his and hers," "for better or worse"
But the only ring I want buried with me are the ones around my eyes

You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have
I've got the red carpet blues baby

Put your hands in the air and don't make a sound
But don't get the wrong idea
We're gonna shoot you
We're gonna shoot you
And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet
That could change just how this goes
And everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throat

-----------------

Okay, so it doesn't exactly seem like the most eloquent writing, but there's actually a lot that's being said here. That's kind of the secret gift of Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump: to make catchy pop songs easily accessible but with multiple layers of meaning for those who are willing to dig a bit.

Before we get into the words, though, let's discuss Stump's style of singing. He often uses techniques that I've dubbed "repetition" and "withholding". I don't know if there's a real name for this kind of thing, but that's what I'm going with. This song isn't the most prominent example, but Stump will often repeat words, phrases, or even syllables, which creates a stuttering but frenetic energy in a number of Fall Out Boy's songs. You can hear this in certain lines of this track, when Stump creates a kind of vocal interplay with multiple layers of his voice: "Blackmailed myself/'Cause I ain't got ('cause I ain't got) anyone else".

Meanwhile, the witholding of certain expected lines subtlely subverts the traditionality of the verse-chorus-verse structure and is able to take the listener off-guard. You can see what I mean in the lyrics above-- the first bridge starts with "you're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have" and then has four lines in between that and "I've got the red carpet blues, baby". But when the bridge is repeated later in the song, we've now been trained to expect those middle lines-- and they're omitted entirely.

(I realize this is a common thread, but basically what I'm saying is that these songs are really, really fun to sing, once you've got the structure and timing down.)

As to the song's meaning: there's kind of three layers going on simultaneously here. Stump and Wentz have created the framework the story of a hostage situation, on which they can hang a discussion of their pet themes; namely, the music industry and troubled relationships.

So let's take a look at 1) The Hostage Situation.

This is the very surface-level interpretation of the song, taking almost everything that Stump sings literally. Ironically, considering what we just discussed about his style of singing, Stump says "I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself". The first verse here is essentially the hostage-taker's instructions to his victims.

As we head into the bridge we come across probably the most important line of the song: "You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have." It actually has a triple meaning, but in this context, we can safely assume that this is his way of quieting the pleas of his hostages; telling them that he doesn't have any sympathy for them. His desperation comes from loneliness ("I ain't got anyone else") and depression (he's holding these people hostage for their "inspiration"). And on this pass, "red carpet blues" brings to mind images of bloodstains.

The chorus is pretty self-explanatory, if a bit snide-- essentially Stump sings that everyone is going to get shot regardless of what they do, regardless of whether or not they follow his instructions. "Put your hands in the air...But don't get the wrong idea/We're gonna shoot you...there's nothing...that could change just how this goes." And the last line of the song, included in the final chorus ("everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throat") just confirms that everyone does what they're told when in an untenable situation, in this case at gunpoint.

Sounds violent and terrible for pop rock with good hooks-- but it's okay because this insane situation simply serves as the backdrop for the things that Wentz and Stump really want to discuss. So we move on to 2) The Music Industry.

This song also serves to communicate Wentz and Stump's dissatisfaction with certain aspects of their fame and the business that they find themselves in. Instead of a literal hostage situation, it becomes metaphorical. "This is a stick up/give us all your inspiration" is now the cry of the music industry, trying to bend Fall Out Boy to their whims and suck out all the creativity to capitalize and monetize it. The line "I've got the red carpet blues" perfectly encapsulates this other layer of interpretation, and causes the chorus to take on a new meaning.

"Don't get the wrong idea/We're gonna shoot you" now references the press and papparazzi taking pictures of the members of Fall Out Boy, whether they like it or not. The lines "And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet/That could change just how this goes" is an affirmation that there's no amount of money, no opinions they can give, no songs they can create or sing to make the fame just go away. They're stuck with it, both the good and the bad. Moreover, they rely on the fame to make their living-- it's the "barrel down their throat," so they're forced to do whatever's necessary to please others, please the public, please their record label.

As I mentioned before, the line "You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have" is still of paramount importance. The feeling that it gives me with this particular interpretation is of Wentz and Stump smiling and taking pictures when they're on the spot, but not really feeling that happiness internally.

Finally we get to probably the most important interpretation of these lyrics, 3) The Troubled Relationship. This version ties itself into the title of the song, It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't, and we can see that at its core, the song is really about not wanting to commit to marriage-- Wentz views this as its own kind of hostage situation, caught between a life-long commitment that he doesn't want, or the death of the relationship. It's clear that he doesn't see this ending in holy matrimony; in this new light, the chorus can be re-examined. He feels like there's nothing that he can do, the relationship will be shot dead.

Yet he still has to make a decision-- and we can imagine the girl on the other side of the relationship arguing that she loves him, that their relationship needs to be heading towards a life together. His response? "You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have." Cold! Even more so: the second verse, which really can't be explained via any of the other layers of interpretation. "When I said that I'd return to you I meant more like a relapse/Now and again I think "his and hers," "for better or worse"/But the only ring I want buried with me are the ones around my eyes". It's straightforward enough. Wentz sometimes thinks of being with this girl forever, but always comes to the conclusion that it's not something he wants. But how brutally honest is that? "The only ring I want buried with me are the ones around my eyes". I mean, I love it, but good lord, if I was that girl I would kick his ass. Still, even with these vehement refusals, we can't forget the final line, that "everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throat". This presents at least the possibility that Wentz will agree to getting married when it finally comes down to it, even given the fact that he positions himself directly against it. Kind of a sad statement on making decisions in life, isn't it?

I hope you got something out of this today, but if not, don't fear-- I'll pick some better Fall Out Boy songs in the future. While this one is pretty good, there's a reason it was a b-side. It's not quite as catchy as some of their other work, and it really doesn't quite spotlight the great verbal gymnastic skills of the Stump/Wentz combo the way that I thought it would. We'll come back to these guys when the time is right. See you in seven.