My favorite, favorite Fall Out Boy lyrics. Let's dig right in.
Hum Hallelujah
It's all a game of this or that
Now versus then
"Better off" against "worse for wear"
And you're someone who knows someone
Who knows someone I once knew
And I just want to be a part of this
The road outside my house is paved with good intentions
Hired a construction crew 'cause it's hell on the engine
And you are the dreamer, and we are the dream
I could write it better than you ever felt it
So hum hallelujah
Just off the key of reason
I thought I loved you;
It was just how you looked in the light
A teenage vow in a parking lot:
"Til tonight do us part"
I'll sing the blues and swallow them too
My words are my faith, to hell with a good name
A remix of your guts, your insides x-rayed
And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster
We're a bull, your ears are just a china shop
I love you in the same way there's a chapel in a hospital:
One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door
Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills
I could write it better than you ever felt it
So hum hallelujah
Just off the key of reason
I thought I loved you;
It was just how you looked in the light
A teenage vow in a parking lot:
"Til tonight do us part"
I'll sing the blues and swallow them too
-----------------
Okay! There is so much great stuff here that I'm not even sure where to start. First, some background. In 2008, Fall Out Boy lyricist and bassist Pete Wentz admitted that he once tried to kill himself:
"I got in my car. I remember I was listening to Jeff Buckley doing Leonard Cohen's ‘Hallelujah’ and sat there and took a bunch of Ativan in a Best Buy parking lot."
Perhaps not the ideal way to go out (the Best Buy is what kills it for me), but he lived to write another day and eventually turned his experiences into the words for two songs: From Under the Cork Tree's "7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)" and this one.
So let's start at the beginning. With Wentz's suicide attempt as the core of the song (after all, it's called "Hum Hallelujah" and features a choir that sings "Hallelujah" in the exact same way as in the Leonard Cohen song), we can analyze the rest of the words as giving some insight into just why Wentz would want to kill himself.
The first verse features Wentz comparing his life at present to his life in the past, as Patrick Stump sings his lyrics: "It's all a game of...now versus then/'Better off' against 'worse for wear'". It's unclear whether "now" equates to "better off" or "worse for wear", but given the content of the the next verse and the bridge, it's pretty safe to say that Wentz is feeling pretty worse for wear.
The lines "And you're someone who knows someone/Who knows someone I once knew" speak to Wentz's new life in the spotlight, and the idea that when you're famous, everyone with even a tangential relationship to you wants to come along for the ride and reap the benefits of your hard work. The hangers-on that Wentz now has to deal with aren't even his family or friends, but iterations away; people who know people who know him. Because of this, he feels disconnected from his own life and his own success, writing, "I just want to be a part of it."
Immediately after, Wentz writes, "The road outside my house is paved with good intentions," obviously a play on the saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. So is Wentz's home hell? I have to assume here that he's continuing to discuss what fame has given him, so his house is probably an expensive place, representing his new life as a star. Maybe it's something that he feels he doesn't deserve or reminds him of who he used to be. Nevertheless, all of Wentz's misery stems from "good intentions"; ie- wanting to write and perform music.
"I can write it better than you ever felt it," Stump sings, and while it may be cocky of Wentz to put that out there, it's one of my favorite lines of the song. Often, people can feel their emotions but are incapable of expressing or describing them. Wentz has just the opposite problem: he has no doubt he can put the words on paper but he's having a hard time feeling much of anything.
Still, the music Wentz is helping to create is obviously still something very important to him, and the one thing to which he's holding on. Skipping the chorus for the moment, the next verse of "Hum Hallelujah" reads: "My words are my faith, to hell with a good name". He suggests that not only will he continue to write what he wants, regardless of the consequences, but that even the critics actually want to hear what he's saying, no matter what they say aloud. Inside, Wentz thinks, there's a need for his words, for Fall Out Boy's music, to be out there. "A remix of your guts, your insides x-rayed/And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster/We're a bull, your ears are just a china shop".
But let's go back and examine the song's chorus. The two parts that make it up have a double meaning, in that they can either be discussing Wentz's troubled relationship to his own life and his own self-image culminating in his suicide attempt, or an actual relationship with another person. His lyrics recall teenage exuberance, making out in parked cars, and unreasonable, fleeting declarations of love. "So hum hallelujah/Just off the key of reason/I thought I loved you;/It was just how you looked in the light." The idea that someone can believe that they're in love with someone else just by way of the light levels is, of course, an exaggeration. But it's not that far from the truth when you're young and "just off the key of reason". Wentz further skewers the idealistic confusion of teenage lust with love when he plays on the famous marriage vow "'til death do us part". "A teenage vow in a parking lot:/'Til tonight do us part,'" he writes. This love isn't everlasting, it's one-night-only.
And then, finally, whether it's that he's over life in general or over the girl or both: "I'll sing the blues and swallow them too", clearly referring to his depressed state and his Ativan overdose.
For the final verse I'm going to focus on the first two lines, which are among my favorite by any band ever, and definitely my top Fall Out Boy lines.
"I love you in the same way there's a chapel in a hospital:/One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door".
These lines sum up what is absolutely, insanely great about Fall Out Boy. It's not that the words themselves are particularly complex or intriguing. But Wentz brings together a mish-mash of concepts and thoughts and unifies them into a concise, clever statement that somehow actually manages to mean something in the context of the song. So let's break it down. As stated before, already know that there are two parallel threads at work here: a fleeting teenage "love," and Wentz's Ativan overdose.
As far as the former goes, given Wentz's attitude, when the line starts with "I love you in the same way..." even if you don't understand the correlation between chapels and hospitals, you know it can't be a good thing. As it turns out, it's "one foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door". This should be clear enough: he loves the girl enough to sleep with her, but not enough to commit; or, if you prefer, not enough to even spend the night with her afterward. He's only interested in the short-term benefits of the relationship.
As for the "chapel in a hospital" thing, it's something you have to wrap your head around, but I think that what Wentz is trying to get at here is how ridiculous it is to have a chapel, a place where funeral services are held, inside a hospital where people are ostensibly trying to get better. A hospital tries to keep people alive while a chapel ushers them into death, so the people in the hospital are caught in the middle, neither truly living nor truly dead, "one foot in [the] bedroom," their hospital bed, "and one foot out the door," out of life and into death.
Any way you look at it, the result is a sort of stasis between two extremes-- and as Wentz will write three years later in the song "She's My Winona": "Hell or glory/I don't want anything in between". Well, one foot in the bedroom and one out the door is neither hell nor glory, it's exactly what Wentz is looking to avoid. That average, noncommittal middle ground between love and lust, life and death, hell and glory is the worst place of all-- and Wentz needs an escape. Ativan here we come.
The last few paragraphs are quite a bit for a few simple lines, eh? Great, great stuff, and strangely, not as depressing as you'd think-- it's almost uplifting in a way, as the chorus of "hallelujahs" seems to transport Wentz (and by extension, the song) out of the mire and into a more peaceful status quo.
...well, that was a little less focused than I would have liked, but I think I got the basic message across. I suppose it's Third Generation Emo Month here at Slipping Into The Airwaves, because next week we're going to analyze a track from my current obsession, Panic! At the Disco's Vices & Virtues.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Hiatus
Much like a sitcom, Slipping Into the Airwaves is on hiatus this week while I fly to Rhode Island for my cousin's wedding. If I can manage to write up a post I will, but I don't know yet how (or if) that's going to play out.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Jack's Mannequin: Holiday From Real (2005)
You knew that I would have to get to Jack's Mannequin eventually. It's the current project of Andrew McMahon from Something Corporate fame and the band from which I drew the title of this blog (although not from this song, but rather this one). Let's listen to the first song from his first album:
Holiday From Real
She thinks I'm much too thin
She asks me if I'm sick
What's a girl to do with friends like this?
She lets me drive her car
So I can score an eighth
From the lesbians out west in Venice
Oh, California in the summer
Oh, and my hair is growing long
Fuck yeah, we can live like this
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd fry our brains and say it's so much fun
Out here
When it's all over
I'll come back another year
I look for work today
I'm spillin' out the door
Put my glasses on so no one sees me
I never thought that I'd be livin' on your floor
But the rents are high and L.A.'s easy
Oh, it's a picture of perfection
Oh, and the postcard's gonna read
Fuck yeah, we can live like this
We can live like this
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd fry our brains and write it's so much fun
Out here
Hey Madeline
You sure look fine
You wore my favorite sweater
Being poor was never better
A safety buzz
Some cheap red wine
Oh, the trouble we could get in
So let's screw this one up right
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd lie and tell our friends it's so much fun
Out here
When it's all over
I'll come back for another
When it's all over
I'll come back for another year
-----------------
As with last week's song, the lyrics are actually pretty straightforward. Upbeat, poppy, and piano-driven, it's typical Jack's Mannequin. Bonus points for being about Southern California, where I've lived my whole life. It's an anthem for laid-back living down here.
McMahon discusses spending his time essentially getting drunk ("A safety buzz/Some cheap red wine"), high ("I can score an eighth"), and fooling around with girls ("Madeline/You sure look fine...Oh, the trouble we could get in"). It's great! He sings about "California in the summer" and exclaims "Fuck yeah, we can live like this". As I said, a perfect anthem.
You can choose to see the song this way, and it's perfectly fine, you can nod your head to the beat and sing along. But...you would be entirely wrong.
The beauty of the lyrics here is that it's not a song about the perfection of California, but rather McMahon's slow realization that his life there is a complete mess. The first lines are sung with a bit of attitude: "She thinks I'm much too thin/She asks me if I'm sick/What's a girl to do with friends like this?" We can take this at face value, that he's either starving or addicted to drugs or both, but the tone is clearly one of defiance; when McMahon sings "what's a girl do with friends like this?", he's almost mocking the girl for caring about him.
(Eerily, these lines also foreshadow that in real life McMahon will actually become sick-- he was diagnosed with leukemia shortly before releasing this album. The number of references to doctors and illness on Everything in Transit . Maybe somehow his subconscious already knew about his illness, or maybe it's just coincidental. Either way, it's quite a trip.)
Throughout the rest of the song, we get little clues that maybe McMahon's California summer isn't idyllic as it seems. This is especially true in the chorus, when he sings that "We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun/We'd fry our brains and say it's so much fun/Out here". The word choices here are extremely important; he's not spending his weeks under the sun or treasuring them or feeling good about them or whatever he should be doing: it's a "waste". He's on drugs ("fry our brains") and says that it's so much fun. Again, word choices: McMahon doesn't assert that his time is actually fun, just that he'll say it is when talking to his friends.
We've already discussed how in the song, McMahon is on drugs and possibly starving. He's also out of work and embarrassed about it ("I look for work today...put my glasses on so no one sees me") and doesn't even have his own place to live ("I never thought that I'd be livin' on your floor/But the rents are high"). This life isn't the actual ideal that he's claiming it as, just a "picture of perfection". In this context, when he sings "Fuck yeah, we can live like this/We can live like this", it's much less of a proclamation and more like he's trying to convince himself. The same goes for when he states that "being poor was never better". At that point, it's almost become a joke.
Hammering the point home, in the final chorus McMahon changes the words up slightly and sings that he would "lie and tell [his] friends it's so much fun". If it wasn't already clear, this clinches it: everything he's said about the greatness of his California living is a lie, an illusion. The title "Holiday From Real" now takes on a kind of double meaning. Not only is this life a holiday from real due to the drugs and drinking, but McMahon's own perception of his life, his health, his well-being, is unreal. He sings that "when it's all over, [he'll] come back for another year"-- but as with the line that "we can live like this", it doesn't sound like he's coming back to something amazing. Rather, it sounds like he's trapped in a downward spiral.
On the up side, we do know that McMahon eventually does pull out of it. In a standalone song called "The Lights and Buzz", he describes returning to California after making a recovery from his battle with cancer. The echoes from the summer that he spent here follow him everywhere, as "it's Christmas in California/And it's hard to ignore that it feels like summer all the time". But he's also come back older and wiser, and doesn't want to fall into the same traps, singing, "This place is paradise, I'm sure/Here's my reservation/I got lost here once before/Inside a good vibration."
Whether McMahon's escape from the worst part of the California lifestyle was solely due to his illness wresting him forcefully from it or because he finally came to his senses and left his "holiday from real", we know things turn out okay for him in the end. "It's good to be alive", he sings throughout "The Lights and Buzz", and it really is an affirmation and a bookend to "Holiday From Real". At any rate, it's more life-affirming than the somehow-appropriate fake glossy sheen of that song.
I do love a happy ending.
Next week, I'm going to give one more shot to Fall Out Boy and make a better attempt to show you all why they are just so terribly witty. Trying and failing is better than not trying at all, right?
Holiday From Real
She thinks I'm much too thin
She asks me if I'm sick
What's a girl to do with friends like this?
She lets me drive her car
So I can score an eighth
From the lesbians out west in Venice
Oh, California in the summer
Oh, and my hair is growing long
Fuck yeah, we can live like this
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd fry our brains and say it's so much fun
Out here
When it's all over
I'll come back another year
I look for work today
I'm spillin' out the door
Put my glasses on so no one sees me
I never thought that I'd be livin' on your floor
But the rents are high and L.A.'s easy
Oh, it's a picture of perfection
Oh, and the postcard's gonna read
Fuck yeah, we can live like this
We can live like this
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd fry our brains and write it's so much fun
Out here
Hey Madeline
You sure look fine
You wore my favorite sweater
Being poor was never better
A safety buzz
Some cheap red wine
Oh, the trouble we could get in
So let's screw this one up right
But if you left it up to me
Every day would be a holiday from real
We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun
We'd lie and tell our friends it's so much fun
Out here
When it's all over
I'll come back for another
When it's all over
I'll come back for another year
-----------------
As with last week's song, the lyrics are actually pretty straightforward. Upbeat, poppy, and piano-driven, it's typical Jack's Mannequin. Bonus points for being about Southern California, where I've lived my whole life. It's an anthem for laid-back living down here.
McMahon discusses spending his time essentially getting drunk ("A safety buzz/Some cheap red wine"), high ("I can score an eighth"), and fooling around with girls ("Madeline/You sure look fine...Oh, the trouble we could get in"). It's great! He sings about "California in the summer" and exclaims "Fuck yeah, we can live like this". As I said, a perfect anthem.
You can choose to see the song this way, and it's perfectly fine, you can nod your head to the beat and sing along. But...you would be entirely wrong.
The beauty of the lyrics here is that it's not a song about the perfection of California, but rather McMahon's slow realization that his life there is a complete mess. The first lines are sung with a bit of attitude: "She thinks I'm much too thin/She asks me if I'm sick/What's a girl to do with friends like this?" We can take this at face value, that he's either starving or addicted to drugs or both, but the tone is clearly one of defiance; when McMahon sings "what's a girl do with friends like this?", he's almost mocking the girl for caring about him.
(Eerily, these lines also foreshadow that in real life McMahon will actually become sick-- he was diagnosed with leukemia shortly before releasing this album. The number of references to doctors and illness on Everything in Transit . Maybe somehow his subconscious already knew about his illness, or maybe it's just coincidental. Either way, it's quite a trip.)
Throughout the rest of the song, we get little clues that maybe McMahon's California summer isn't idyllic as it seems. This is especially true in the chorus, when he sings that "We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun/We'd fry our brains and say it's so much fun/Out here". The word choices here are extremely important; he's not spending his weeks under the sun or treasuring them or feeling good about them or whatever he should be doing: it's a "waste". He's on drugs ("fry our brains") and says that it's so much fun. Again, word choices: McMahon doesn't assert that his time is actually fun, just that he'll say it is when talking to his friends.
We've already discussed how in the song, McMahon is on drugs and possibly starving. He's also out of work and embarrassed about it ("I look for work today...put my glasses on so no one sees me") and doesn't even have his own place to live ("I never thought that I'd be livin' on your floor/But the rents are high"). This life isn't the actual ideal that he's claiming it as, just a "picture of perfection". In this context, when he sings "Fuck yeah, we can live like this/We can live like this", it's much less of a proclamation and more like he's trying to convince himself. The same goes for when he states that "being poor was never better". At that point, it's almost become a joke.
Hammering the point home, in the final chorus McMahon changes the words up slightly and sings that he would "lie and tell [his] friends it's so much fun". If it wasn't already clear, this clinches it: everything he's said about the greatness of his California living is a lie, an illusion. The title "Holiday From Real" now takes on a kind of double meaning. Not only is this life a holiday from real due to the drugs and drinking, but McMahon's own perception of his life, his health, his well-being, is unreal. He sings that "when it's all over, [he'll] come back for another year"-- but as with the line that "we can live like this", it doesn't sound like he's coming back to something amazing. Rather, it sounds like he's trapped in a downward spiral.
On the up side, we do know that McMahon eventually does pull out of it. In a standalone song called "The Lights and Buzz", he describes returning to California after making a recovery from his battle with cancer. The echoes from the summer that he spent here follow him everywhere, as "it's Christmas in California/And it's hard to ignore that it feels like summer all the time". But he's also come back older and wiser, and doesn't want to fall into the same traps, singing, "This place is paradise, I'm sure/Here's my reservation/I got lost here once before/Inside a good vibration."
Whether McMahon's escape from the worst part of the California lifestyle was solely due to his illness wresting him forcefully from it or because he finally came to his senses and left his "holiday from real", we know things turn out okay for him in the end. "It's good to be alive", he sings throughout "The Lights and Buzz", and it really is an affirmation and a bookend to "Holiday From Real". At any rate, it's more life-affirming than the somehow-appropriate fake glossy sheen of that song.
I do love a happy ending.
Next week, I'm going to give one more shot to Fall Out Boy and make a better attempt to show you all why they are just so terribly witty. Trying and failing is better than not trying at all, right?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Format: Matches (2006)
I'm tempted not to follow through on what I said last week, which was that I would discuss a song by The Format. As I posted over two months ago when we looked a fun.'s "Be Calm", Nate Ruess' tale of breakup and personal evolution is "spread across three separate albums and nearly seven years of music," which includes this song off of 2006's Dog Problems. However, part of me realizes we've been looking at a lot of music focusing on relationships-- and there is more diverse subject matter out there if you actually take a look.
So how about this? A relatively simple relationship song this week, then a song that has nothing to do with relationships next week. We'll get back to fun. and The Format in due time. Deal? Deal.
For now, though, here we go:
Matches
Ashes to ashes, dust on the dash
I got my cigarettes
But I can't find the fire that's calming me down
I was just out on a night with my friends
You are still out on a night with your friends
And you don't seem to tire when I'm not around
I'm under the tunnel now, holding my breath
I searched every pocket that hung in the closet
Until I found some matches in a brown leather jacket
One I swore I'd never worn, but it once kept you warm
Do you remember we made love on the floor?
And you still haven't called
So I wait 'til they're closing the bars
I made a wish, but the match never lit
-----------------
Not exactly the deepest lyrics, but I told you I was going for something simple this week. The music here actually does a lot more of the heavy lifting in terms of setting the mood.
Chronologically, we can place this song before "Be Calm". In "Be Calm", Ruess has moved to a new city and is attempting to get over a relationship; we can safely assume that that relationship is the one that he discusses here in "Matches". If the lyrics here are any indication, that relationship is running swiftly towards its end.
"Ashes to ashes, dust on the dash" is clearly a play off of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" which is commonly said at funerals. Here, Ruess holds his own impromptu funeral, thinking about a number of different moments in his failed relationship and slowly getting more and more emotional about the whole thing. He searches for a match to light a cigarette to calm his nerves but can't find one: "I got my cigarettes/But I can't find the fire that's calming me down."
The second verse is one of my favorite parts of the song, as it exposes the dichotomy between the two involved parties simply by twisting one line. "I was just out on a night with my friends/You are still out on a night with your friends". And then the key line: "And you don't seem to tire when I'm not around". Not only are Ruess and his girl distant physically, hanging out with their separate groups of friends instead of with each other, but she seems full of life with him not there. She stays up and stays out much later when he's not with her, as if she's avoiding him. Meanwhile, Ruess waits for her to come home, leading to the later lines "And you still haven't called/So I wait 'til they're closing the bars".
As it gets later and later, Ruess loses it more and more, frantically searching through his closet for the matches he thinks will calm him down. If only he could heed his own advice from "Be Calm"-- but he's not at a point where he can do that, just yet. Instead, he comes across what he's looking for in a jacket "that [he] swore [he'd] never worn, but it once kept [his girl] warm." This brings back a flood of memories, and Ruess is at his most desperate when he asks "do you remember we made love on the floor?" The music, previously consisting of a sparse, simple carnival ditty in the background, suddenly swells up to accompany Ruess' state of mind. It's dizzying, and perfectly reflects the feeling you might get when thinking of the good times that you had with someone now out of reach.
The song ends with the simple statement "I made a wish, but the match never lit". What is Ruess' wish? That his relationship can revert back to something good? That he can finally break up with the girl once and for all and end his suffering? We don't get to know, but we see only that it doesn't come true; the match doesn't light, the cigarette that he thinks will lead him back to sanity instead remains unlit.
It's important to note that in the context of this one song, the relationship hasn't yet ended. It's not a breakup song-- those often carry with them strong emotions; either "fuck you, thank god I'm through with you", or else they idealize the other party and the relationship itself, with a message along the lines of "I can't believe I didn't appreciate what I had." "Matches" is neither of these, though. It's the inexorable, slow decay of a relationship that was once passionate and alive, with Ruess teetering on the precipice of what might be a total breakdown.
It's a great moment to immortalize, if not very fun. to experience.
For some reason, all this talk of bars and relationships remind me of a couple lines from Kevin Smith's Chasing Amy. The male and female leads, Holden and Alyssa, are lightly flirting with each other at a bar when they see a young couple outside making out on the hood of a car:
HOLDEN
Look at that, though - kind of gives you a little charge, to see two people in love. You've gotta respect that kind of display of affection. It's crazy, rude, self-absorbed - but it's love.
ALYSSA
That's not love.
HOLDEN
Says you.
ALYSSA
That out there...that's fleeting.
I'm not sure who I agree with on the subject, but given the content of "Matches", Nate Ruess would probably side with Alyssa, don't you think?
Still, isn't that crazy, affectionate, makeout, "making love on the floor" phase kind of the polar opposite of the slow descent into breakup? Two sides of the coin, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. Given that, it's probably love, but it's also a specific brand, a very fleeting kind of love.
The trick is learning how to make that initial spark last through the vast middle expanse.
And also to not be scared shitless by what it might lead to. I'm working on it. Before I come to any conclusions, I have a feeling I will owe a lot of apologies.
Either way, if I figure these things out, I will let you know how.
So how about this? A relatively simple relationship song this week, then a song that has nothing to do with relationships next week. We'll get back to fun. and The Format in due time. Deal? Deal.
For now, though, here we go:
Matches
Ashes to ashes, dust on the dash
I got my cigarettes
But I can't find the fire that's calming me down
I was just out on a night with my friends
You are still out on a night with your friends
And you don't seem to tire when I'm not around
I'm under the tunnel now, holding my breath
I searched every pocket that hung in the closet
Until I found some matches in a brown leather jacket
One I swore I'd never worn, but it once kept you warm
Do you remember we made love on the floor?
And you still haven't called
So I wait 'til they're closing the bars
I made a wish, but the match never lit
-----------------
Not exactly the deepest lyrics, but I told you I was going for something simple this week. The music here actually does a lot more of the heavy lifting in terms of setting the mood.
Chronologically, we can place this song before "Be Calm". In "Be Calm", Ruess has moved to a new city and is attempting to get over a relationship; we can safely assume that that relationship is the one that he discusses here in "Matches". If the lyrics here are any indication, that relationship is running swiftly towards its end.
"Ashes to ashes, dust on the dash" is clearly a play off of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" which is commonly said at funerals. Here, Ruess holds his own impromptu funeral, thinking about a number of different moments in his failed relationship and slowly getting more and more emotional about the whole thing. He searches for a match to light a cigarette to calm his nerves but can't find one: "I got my cigarettes/But I can't find the fire that's calming me down."
The second verse is one of my favorite parts of the song, as it exposes the dichotomy between the two involved parties simply by twisting one line. "I was just out on a night with my friends/You are still out on a night with your friends". And then the key line: "And you don't seem to tire when I'm not around". Not only are Ruess and his girl distant physically, hanging out with their separate groups of friends instead of with each other, but she seems full of life with him not there. She stays up and stays out much later when he's not with her, as if she's avoiding him. Meanwhile, Ruess waits for her to come home, leading to the later lines "And you still haven't called/So I wait 'til they're closing the bars".
As it gets later and later, Ruess loses it more and more, frantically searching through his closet for the matches he thinks will calm him down. If only he could heed his own advice from "Be Calm"-- but he's not at a point where he can do that, just yet. Instead, he comes across what he's looking for in a jacket "that [he] swore [he'd] never worn, but it once kept [his girl] warm." This brings back a flood of memories, and Ruess is at his most desperate when he asks "do you remember we made love on the floor?" The music, previously consisting of a sparse, simple carnival ditty in the background, suddenly swells up to accompany Ruess' state of mind. It's dizzying, and perfectly reflects the feeling you might get when thinking of the good times that you had with someone now out of reach.
The song ends with the simple statement "I made a wish, but the match never lit". What is Ruess' wish? That his relationship can revert back to something good? That he can finally break up with the girl once and for all and end his suffering? We don't get to know, but we see only that it doesn't come true; the match doesn't light, the cigarette that he thinks will lead him back to sanity instead remains unlit.
It's important to note that in the context of this one song, the relationship hasn't yet ended. It's not a breakup song-- those often carry with them strong emotions; either "fuck you, thank god I'm through with you", or else they idealize the other party and the relationship itself, with a message along the lines of "I can't believe I didn't appreciate what I had." "Matches" is neither of these, though. It's the inexorable, slow decay of a relationship that was once passionate and alive, with Ruess teetering on the precipice of what might be a total breakdown.
It's a great moment to immortalize, if not very fun. to experience.
For some reason, all this talk of bars and relationships remind me of a couple lines from Kevin Smith's Chasing Amy. The male and female leads, Holden and Alyssa, are lightly flirting with each other at a bar when they see a young couple outside making out on the hood of a car:
HOLDEN
Look at that, though - kind of gives you a little charge, to see two people in love. You've gotta respect that kind of display of affection. It's crazy, rude, self-absorbed - but it's love.
ALYSSA
That's not love.
HOLDEN
Says you.
ALYSSA
That out there...that's fleeting.
I'm not sure who I agree with on the subject, but given the content of "Matches", Nate Ruess would probably side with Alyssa, don't you think?
Still, isn't that crazy, affectionate, makeout, "making love on the floor" phase kind of the polar opposite of the slow descent into breakup? Two sides of the coin, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. Given that, it's probably love, but it's also a specific brand, a very fleeting kind of love.
The trick is learning how to make that initial spark last through the vast middle expanse.
And also to not be scared shitless by what it might lead to. I'm working on it. Before I come to any conclusions, I have a feeling I will owe a lot of apologies.
Either way, if I figure these things out, I will let you know how.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Mixing it Up, Part I
Today we're going to take a short break from analysis and instead do something that is very near and dear to my heart: make a mix CD. Everyone who's anyone knows that you can't just slap random songs on a disc haphazardly and expect people to like the music you've given them. A good album, one that you can listen to from start to finish, has natural ups and downs, ebbs and flows-- like an expanded version of a really good song. Whenever I'm making a mix, my goal is to bring the disparate songs together to form a whole that flows musically from beginning to end. If I can somehow have get it to flow thematically as well, all the better, but that's obviously a rare occurrence.
So let's take the ten songs we've talked about here and lay them out to see what we've got. In my humble opinion, ten songs is just about the minimum acceptable length for an album: any less, and the listener feels cheated. The optimum length is probably somewhere around 12-13, but ten is what we have, so that's what I'm going with.
The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
fun.- Be Calm
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
Jimmy Eat World- Kill
The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Panic! at the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
The New Pornographers- Crash Years
Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
The first order of business is to pick the songs that are going to go first and last on the mix. For the first track, I like to find something that introduces the listener to what they're about to hear without totally immersing them in it. Something that gives a hint of the musical goodness to come without being overwhelming. And the last song, ideally, will serve as a coda, a reminder of what they've heard while transitioning out into nothingness (or, even better, back to the beginning of the mix again).
Presumably, the people who created the albums from which we pulled the source material were thinking about song order as well; as such, a good starting point is to pick out the songs that were put first and last on their respective albums. From this list, we have "To Sheila" and "Be Calm" as first tracks, and "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" as a closer. While "Be Calm" is a perfectly viable option, I'm going to start with "To Sheila" for the moment due to its quiet nature. There's nothing wrong with an opening track with some pop to it, though. Meanwhile "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" gets slotted last by default. It rocks a little harder than an album ender should, in my opinion, and was really only the final track on some random special edition of Infinity on High, but we'll leave it for the moment. The audio bit at the end of the song that says "Now press repeat" makes it hard to put it anywhere else.
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Now that we have the bookends, it makes it easier to fill in the middle. What I like to do with the second track of a mix is to switch up the tempo somewhat. Since we began with the slow, dreamy "To Sheila", our second track should capture some energy and rachet up the intensity. Probably the best choice to do this would be "Muzzle", but there's no reason to have the two Smashing Pumpkins tracks grouped together. If the listener thinks they're going to get a whole album of Smashing Pumpkins, they may not continue listening. This is the same reason for the tempo change; we don't want to give the impression that this is a mix full of ballads.
"Perfecting Loneliness" also seems like it might be a good choice, but its extended ending makes it difficult to place. While this didn't deter Jets to Brazil on Perfecting Loneliness (it was track four), we'll cast it to the side for now.
A number of the other songs we've analyzed maintain a quiet tone, so almost by default I'm going to put "Crash Years" down as track two. It doesn't rock out as much as I'd like, but it is a good tempo change and that should serve our purposes well enough.
The third track should, in a perfect world, take the momentum of the second and continue with it. Since we had enough trouble finding one track like this, finding two will be pretty impossible. However, "Be Calm" is extremely upbeat and frenetic. Even though it's going to sound a little wrong, since in my head it will always be the first track of an album, let's experiment and throw it down as track three.
This gives us great momentum going into song four, where we're going to switch it up again with something a little bit softer. "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)" seems perfect for this. It's not a total drop-off into mellow oblivion, but the harmonies and acoustic guitars keep it measured.
So now we have:
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
2) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
3) fun.- Be Calm
4) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Halfway there! Sort of. But with this many songs placed, the rest becomes easier. "Kill" and "When the Day Met the Night" are perfect middle-of-the-mix songs, uptempo and introspective, but not particularly extreme. Slotting them at five and six seems reasonable. We'll put "Kill" first just because it has more of an edge to it and will probably sound good coming off of the lightweight "Yankee Bayonet".
Let's take a look at the three songs we have left:
The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
Two of these songs are pretty hard rockers, while one is on par with "To Sheila" for its soft-spokenness. Since we know that "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" is going to close the album, we'll put the quiet "Company Calls Epilogue" right before it in order to offset it. That leaves "Perfecting Loneliness" and "Muzzle". Both songs feature roaring guitars, but I'm reticent to put "Perfecting Loneliness" before "Muzzle" due to its extended and understated ending; I feel like that will bring the energy to a standstill before "Muzzle" brings it up again, only to bring it back down for "Company Calls Epilogue"...I realize that the mix is based on soft vs. loud dynamics, but arranging the tracks that way is too much bouncing around for my tastes. So we'll go "Muzzle", then "Perfecting Loneliness", then "Company Calls Epilogue".
Now we've arrived at what is basically a first draft:
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
2) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
3) fun.- Be Calm
4) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
8) Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
9) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Given the time to do so, this is the point at which I'd like to go back and listen to the whole mix, front to back, to get a feel for whether or not it really does flow, as well as to listen for any obvious problem spots. Barring the time to do that, though, the best alternative is to listen to the first and last 15-30 seconds of each song. This will give a good idea of how the songs mesh.
Doing that with this mix yields a number of problems that we'll have to go back and fix: While "To Sheila" and "Crash Years" go well together, it's just wrong to have "Be Calm" as the third track. It doesn't work and gives the impression of the mix rebooting itself. Further, the end of the song, featuring trailing off violins, doesn't really fit with the beginning of the next track, "Yankee Bayonet". "Kill" and "When the Day Met the Night" are, as expected, just fine as tracks five and six, but the momentum that they start carries through all the way until the end of "Perfecting Loneliness" at track eight. Four tracks is too long of a time to carry on that energy, and it makes the drop into "Company Calls Epilogue" very precipitious.
So, easiest thing first. We'll move "Be Calm" into track one and cast aside "To Sheila". "Crash Years" no longer really works as track two anymore, coming off of the outro to "Be Calm", but we can switch "When the Day Met the Night" in the as new track two. This will relieve some of the pressure on that block of four energetic songs that I outlined above. "Crash Years" does, however, come off of "When the Day Met the Night" nicely, so we have a new first three tracks.
This, of course, has ruined nearly everything else. This new opening trio is very nice, but lacks any real punch. Despite the "now press repeat" bit at the end of "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't", I've never really liked it as the final track. What if we put it after "Crash Years"? The answer is that it offsets the calm of the first few tracks, and I like it enough in that position to ignore the stupid ending. Dialing down the energy only a little bit, "Kill" is a logical choice for the next track.
After those two stronger songs, I'm very tempted to slot in "Yankee Bayonet", but "Company Calls Epilogue" absolutely killed the flow last time, placed near the end as it was. If we have a song energetic enough as a later juxtaposition, we can put it in the middle here as song six. And we do-- "Muzzle", roaring the mix back to life with song seven. What we have so far, then, is:
1) fun.- Be Calm
2) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
3) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
4) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
with these songs left over:
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
I'm very tempted to place "Perfecting Loneliness" last. The way that the song spirals out into space would be a great way to end the mix-- but then that would leave us without a spot for "To Sheila". Maybe we can use the soft ending of "Perfecting Loneliness" as a bridge to "To Sheila", which will cap off the mix rather than begin it. Given no other choice, then, we have to put "Yankee Bayonet" before both of those-- and hope that the energy, while a step down from "Muzzle" and "Perfecting Loneliness", doesn't completely halt the momentum we have going. Second draft time:
1) fun.- Be Calm
2) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
3) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
4) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
8) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
9) Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
10) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
And it's back to the same process as before, listening for what works and what doesn't, paying close attention to the transitions between songs. You'll notice that almost nothing stayed in its position from our first attempt. That doesn't make what I said invalid, though; putting the songs in a certain order with certain dynamics in mind let us see what worked and what didn't work with this particular group of tracks.
This one turned out much better! Tracks 4-7 in particular really fit together well. "Be Calm" works much better to open the album, and "Perfecting Loneliness" transitions into "To Sheila" in the hoped-for manner.
Only a couple of things still bother me: one, I can't get used to "To Sheila" as a closer rather than an opener, though it does loop into the first track nicely. Second, "When the Day Met the Night" doesn't quite follow "Be Calm" as well as I'd initially thought. Finally, while "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" works really well positioned where it is, that damn audio bit at the end annoys the hell out of me.
Do these things need to be addressed? If I had the time, I would literally edit out the "now press repeat" on "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't". It's not song-specific (it appeared at the end of every edition of Infinity on High, regardless of the song that preceded it) and adds nothing, so I wouldn't feel bad lopping it off. While "To Sheila" irks me as an ending song, it actually doesn't sound bad-- and someone unfamiliar with the song's original placement would have no idea.
That leaves us with only one real issue, the transition between our new songs one and two. I'm not about to rearrange everything just to solve one minor problem. It's good enough as is. Time to burn it and draw in a new listener!
And remember, people-- always provide a tracklist with your mix so that people know what they're listening to and can ask you for more when they're done.
Whew, that was a long one, and as usual, took much longer than I expected. I hope it was an interesting one for everyone, as well. Next week we'll return to our usual programming with Nate Ruess' old band, The Format. Stay tuned!
So let's take the ten songs we've talked about here and lay them out to see what we've got. In my humble opinion, ten songs is just about the minimum acceptable length for an album: any less, and the listener feels cheated. The optimum length is probably somewhere around 12-13, but ten is what we have, so that's what I'm going with.
The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
fun.- Be Calm
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
Jimmy Eat World- Kill
The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Panic! at the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
The New Pornographers- Crash Years
Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
The first order of business is to pick the songs that are going to go first and last on the mix. For the first track, I like to find something that introduces the listener to what they're about to hear without totally immersing them in it. Something that gives a hint of the musical goodness to come without being overwhelming. And the last song, ideally, will serve as a coda, a reminder of what they've heard while transitioning out into nothingness (or, even better, back to the beginning of the mix again).
Presumably, the people who created the albums from which we pulled the source material were thinking about song order as well; as such, a good starting point is to pick out the songs that were put first and last on their respective albums. From this list, we have "To Sheila" and "Be Calm" as first tracks, and "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" as a closer. While "Be Calm" is a perfectly viable option, I'm going to start with "To Sheila" for the moment due to its quiet nature. There's nothing wrong with an opening track with some pop to it, though. Meanwhile "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" gets slotted last by default. It rocks a little harder than an album ender should, in my opinion, and was really only the final track on some random special edition of Infinity on High, but we'll leave it for the moment. The audio bit at the end of the song that says "Now press repeat" makes it hard to put it anywhere else.
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Now that we have the bookends, it makes it easier to fill in the middle. What I like to do with the second track of a mix is to switch up the tempo somewhat. Since we began with the slow, dreamy "To Sheila", our second track should capture some energy and rachet up the intensity. Probably the best choice to do this would be "Muzzle", but there's no reason to have the two Smashing Pumpkins tracks grouped together. If the listener thinks they're going to get a whole album of Smashing Pumpkins, they may not continue listening. This is the same reason for the tempo change; we don't want to give the impression that this is a mix full of ballads.
"Perfecting Loneliness" also seems like it might be a good choice, but its extended ending makes it difficult to place. While this didn't deter Jets to Brazil on Perfecting Loneliness (it was track four), we'll cast it to the side for now.
A number of the other songs we've analyzed maintain a quiet tone, so almost by default I'm going to put "Crash Years" down as track two. It doesn't rock out as much as I'd like, but it is a good tempo change and that should serve our purposes well enough.
The third track should, in a perfect world, take the momentum of the second and continue with it. Since we had enough trouble finding one track like this, finding two will be pretty impossible. However, "Be Calm" is extremely upbeat and frenetic. Even though it's going to sound a little wrong, since in my head it will always be the first track of an album, let's experiment and throw it down as track three.
This gives us great momentum going into song four, where we're going to switch it up again with something a little bit softer. "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)" seems perfect for this. It's not a total drop-off into mellow oblivion, but the harmonies and acoustic guitars keep it measured.
So now we have:
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
2) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
3) fun.- Be Calm
4) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Halfway there! Sort of. But with this many songs placed, the rest becomes easier. "Kill" and "When the Day Met the Night" are perfect middle-of-the-mix songs, uptempo and introspective, but not particularly extreme. Slotting them at five and six seems reasonable. We'll put "Kill" first just because it has more of an edge to it and will probably sound good coming off of the lightweight "Yankee Bayonet".
Let's take a look at the three songs we have left:
The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
Two of these songs are pretty hard rockers, while one is on par with "To Sheila" for its soft-spokenness. Since we know that "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" is going to close the album, we'll put the quiet "Company Calls Epilogue" right before it in order to offset it. That leaves "Perfecting Loneliness" and "Muzzle". Both songs feature roaring guitars, but I'm reticent to put "Perfecting Loneliness" before "Muzzle" due to its extended and understated ending; I feel like that will bring the energy to a standstill before "Muzzle" brings it up again, only to bring it back down for "Company Calls Epilogue"...I realize that the mix is based on soft vs. loud dynamics, but arranging the tracks that way is too much bouncing around for my tastes. So we'll go "Muzzle", then "Perfecting Loneliness", then "Company Calls Epilogue".
Now we've arrived at what is basically a first draft:
1) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
2) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
3) fun.- Be Calm
4) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
8) Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
9) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
10) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
Given the time to do so, this is the point at which I'd like to go back and listen to the whole mix, front to back, to get a feel for whether or not it really does flow, as well as to listen for any obvious problem spots. Barring the time to do that, though, the best alternative is to listen to the first and last 15-30 seconds of each song. This will give a good idea of how the songs mesh.
Doing that with this mix yields a number of problems that we'll have to go back and fix: While "To Sheila" and "Crash Years" go well together, it's just wrong to have "Be Calm" as the third track. It doesn't work and gives the impression of the mix rebooting itself. Further, the end of the song, featuring trailing off violins, doesn't really fit with the beginning of the next track, "Yankee Bayonet". "Kill" and "When the Day Met the Night" are, as expected, just fine as tracks five and six, but the momentum that they start carries through all the way until the end of "Perfecting Loneliness" at track eight. Four tracks is too long of a time to carry on that energy, and it makes the drop into "Company Calls Epilogue" very precipitious.
So, easiest thing first. We'll move "Be Calm" into track one and cast aside "To Sheila". "Crash Years" no longer really works as track two anymore, coming off of the outro to "Be Calm", but we can switch "When the Day Met the Night" in the as new track two. This will relieve some of the pressure on that block of four energetic songs that I outlined above. "Crash Years" does, however, come off of "When the Day Met the Night" nicely, so we have a new first three tracks.
This, of course, has ruined nearly everything else. This new opening trio is very nice, but lacks any real punch. Despite the "now press repeat" bit at the end of "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't", I've never really liked it as the final track. What if we put it after "Crash Years"? The answer is that it offsets the calm of the first few tracks, and I like it enough in that position to ignore the stupid ending. Dialing down the energy only a little bit, "Kill" is a logical choice for the next track.
After those two stronger songs, I'm very tempted to slot in "Yankee Bayonet", but "Company Calls Epilogue" absolutely killed the flow last time, placed near the end as it was. If we have a song energetic enough as a later juxtaposition, we can put it in the middle here as song six. And we do-- "Muzzle", roaring the mix back to life with song seven. What we have so far, then, is:
1) fun.- Be Calm
2) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
3) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
4) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
with these songs left over:
Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
I'm very tempted to place "Perfecting Loneliness" last. The way that the song spirals out into space would be a great way to end the mix-- but then that would leave us without a spot for "To Sheila". Maybe we can use the soft ending of "Perfecting Loneliness" as a bridge to "To Sheila", which will cap off the mix rather than begin it. Given no other choice, then, we have to put "Yankee Bayonet" before both of those-- and hope that the energy, while a step down from "Muzzle" and "Perfecting Loneliness", doesn't completely halt the momentum we have going. Second draft time:
1) fun.- Be Calm
2) Panic! At the Disco- When the Day Met the Night
3) The New Pornographers- Crash Years
4) Fall Out Boy- It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't
5) Jimmy Eat World- Kill
6) Death Cab for Cutie- Company Calls Epilogue
7) The Smashing Pumpkins- Muzzle
8) The Decemberists- Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
9) Jets to Brazil- Perfecting Loneliness
10) The Smashing Pumpkins- To Sheila
And it's back to the same process as before, listening for what works and what doesn't, paying close attention to the transitions between songs. You'll notice that almost nothing stayed in its position from our first attempt. That doesn't make what I said invalid, though; putting the songs in a certain order with certain dynamics in mind let us see what worked and what didn't work with this particular group of tracks.
This one turned out much better! Tracks 4-7 in particular really fit together well. "Be Calm" works much better to open the album, and "Perfecting Loneliness" transitions into "To Sheila" in the hoped-for manner.
Only a couple of things still bother me: one, I can't get used to "To Sheila" as a closer rather than an opener, though it does loop into the first track nicely. Second, "When the Day Met the Night" doesn't quite follow "Be Calm" as well as I'd initially thought. Finally, while "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't" works really well positioned where it is, that damn audio bit at the end annoys the hell out of me.
Do these things need to be addressed? If I had the time, I would literally edit out the "now press repeat" on "It's Hard to Say 'I Do' When I Don't". It's not song-specific (it appeared at the end of every edition of Infinity on High, regardless of the song that preceded it) and adds nothing, so I wouldn't feel bad lopping it off. While "To Sheila" irks me as an ending song, it actually doesn't sound bad-- and someone unfamiliar with the song's original placement would have no idea.
That leaves us with only one real issue, the transition between our new songs one and two. I'm not about to rearrange everything just to solve one minor problem. It's good enough as is. Time to burn it and draw in a new listener!
And remember, people-- always provide a tracklist with your mix so that people know what they're listening to and can ask you for more when they're done.
Whew, that was a long one, and as usual, took much longer than I expected. I hope it was an interesting one for everyone, as well. Next week we'll return to our usual programming with Nate Ruess' old band, The Format. Stay tuned!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Jets to Brazil: Perfecting Loneliness (2002)
I never thought that writing about lyrics would have me looking up how to smoke meth out of lightbulbs, but so goes the life of the blog writer (?). We can often veer off into unexpected directions. And hey, now I'm prepared, should the need to smoke meth ever arise and I don't have a pipe handy.
Anyway. Today's selection is the title track from Jets to Brazil's final album, Perfecting Loneliness. Lead singer/lyricist Blake Schwarzenbach is better known for his previous band, Jawbreaker, which some say was a pioneer group in the punk/emo/indie rock scene. But Jets is the band that I knew about growing up, so Jets is what you're gonna get.
"Perfecting Loneliness" sums up what's great about Jets to Brazil, and is probably my favorite song of theirs. There are moments of hard rock juxtaposed with moments of tenderness and honesty, all underscored by a kind of quiet desperation. It's really too bad that the rest of the album is so hit-or-miss; as such, the song stands as a real what-could-have-been.
Perfecting Loneliness
I'm a long list with no time.
Sunset panic on the street.
Sugar and lightbulbs:
the milk of kindness is behind us now.
With all those stones in your coat,
did you think they wouldn't know?
The tea leaves of trash sheets:
dirty needles and sweets.
Zero to heaven in seven:
a lifetime, a nanosecond.
All the sand in your glass
is going by so fast.
The radio is playing our tune.
I love it, could you turn it down?
The thought of you crying in my room...
I miss you, could you come around sometime?
When the night comes down,
the world becomes a room
under a microscope
with a labcoat and glue.
I'm fixing this hole
with everything I knew.
The music is making my head split.
I love it, could you turn it off?
The thought of you is tearing me in two...
I miss you, could you come around sometime? Sometime?
This list is what went right:
your name is written twice.
'Cause we live like astronauts
and our missions never cross.
The stakes are high--
we're standing by.
There used to be a hundred a ways to put my arms around you--
every one seemed new, natural, and true.
Perfecting loneliness 'til nothings holding us.
Consider Earth:
we could be the first.
-----------------
What is there to take from this song? As I alluded to in the intro to this post, the drug references are heavy and come often. "Perfecting Loneliness" is centered around a methamphetamine addict, and Schwarzenbach describes the conditions of her living: she's surrounded by "sugar and lightbulbs...trash sheets...dirty needles and sweets". The sugar, sweets, and lightbulbs are the clues here that what we're dealing with is meth: lightbulbs can be used to smoke it, and addicts coming off of it often crave sweets uncontrollably. Also, Schwarzenbach talks about "all those stones in [her] coat"...stones = rocks = crystal meth. There we go.
So the girl in the song has become an addict and her life seems unpleasant and also a total mess, but she probably wasn't always this way; Schwarzenbach probably used to date her, as he discusses "the radio...playing [their] tune" and says "I miss you, could you come around sometime?" He also knows the seriousness of her condition, acknowledging that "all the sand in [her] glass/is going by so fast"; if something doesn't change, she's going to die. This situation then clarifies some of the other lines in the song, such as in the beginning when Schwarzenbach states that he has "no time" and there is "sunset panic on the streets". Schwarzenbach is trying to find and help the girl before she uses again, but "when the night comes down/the world becomes a room/under a microscope/with a lab coat and glue", referencing to a meth lab.
I can't go further without pointing out what a strange structure this song has. Not the traditional verse/chorus/verse/chorus by any means, instead it goes something like this: verse/verse/bridge/verse/bridge/chorus/outro. It's generally not the best idea for your song's chorus to only play once, because that...is kind of not the point of a chorus. Nevertheless, that's exactly what happens here, so we had better pay it very close attention.
"This list is what went right:/your name is written twice". This isn't the first place that Schwarzenbach talks about lists. The very first line of "Perfecting Loneliness" states "I'm a long list". As much as these two statements might help clarify the other, it's still a very vague premise. Still, I'll take a shot. If Schwarzenbach is himself a "list"-- well, what are we made up of? Memories, experiences, feelings. If this girl's name is "written twice" on his list, that must mean that what he's shared with her is more important to her than any other part of his life. She's the part of him that is most treasured, and everything that "went right" for him.
So now we can understand why he's so distraught. This person, once so important to him, is spiraling out of control. As sung in the bridge, Schwarzenbach's helplessness is "tearing [him] in two", but he's unsure what to do about the situation and feels the girl drifting further and further away-- leading to the chorus' metaphor "we live like astronauts/and our missions never cross". Once so close, the two now travel in different circles, and their lives are almost entirely separate.
"The stakes are high:/we're standing by"...the stakes, obviously, being not only their relationship but the girl's life. All he feels he can do is wait to see how things turn out.
In the outro to the song, Schwarzenbach describes the way that things used to be in this relationship-- warm, safe, comfortable. "There used to be a hundred ways to put my arms around you--/every one seemed new, natural, and true". An amazing, understated way to describe the comfort of a great relationship. But now their arms aren't around each other, and Schwarzenbach misses the person that the girl used to be ("perfecting loneliness 'til nothing's holding us").
He ends by begging the girl to "Consider Earth:/we could be the first". To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what this means, but it somehow manages to infuse at least a glimmer of hope into the song. Keeping with the metaphor of astronauts, maybe it makes more sense to think about these lyrics from the perspective of those in outer space, where the view of Earth is (I've heard, not experienced) absolutely breathtaking. Perhaps Schwarzenbach here just wants her to have a new perspective on life, to consider the beauty that exists not only on earth but in the universe at large. Essentially saying 'you have so much to live for'.
As for "we could be the first"...well, they certainly wouldn't be the first two people to overcome addiction or to stabilize their lives and relationship. Still, there's something to be said for how being in love can cause us to feel like we're the only people out there who have ever felt a certain way or experienced certain things. If the vast universe causes us to expand our worldview, love causes us to narrow it-- not necessarily in a bad way. Perhaps Schwarzenbach is just describing that exhiliration, how good it would feel if things somehow worked out-- like they were the only people to ever have a happy ending to their story.
I am open to other interpretations.
Continuing on, the song slowly trails off toward its ending, bringing the astronaut metaphor into reality by steering the listener through space; clips of different NASA transmissions are played in the background. I'm unsure of the source of all of them, but from what I can make out, they're at the very least from the Apollo 8 and Apollo 11 missions, Apollo 11 including the first people to reach the moon. So maybe we are really supposed to think about the visions of the Earth that the astronauts must have had from that perspective. Regardless, it gives the listener the impression of floating out there in the darkness with Schwarzenbach.
I'll leave you with one of the few audible lines of the transmissions. It's the last one in the song, and perfectly sums up "Perfecting Loneliness," so much so that I can't really add anything else:
"It's a magnificent sight out here...magnificent desolation."
Anyway. Today's selection is the title track from Jets to Brazil's final album, Perfecting Loneliness. Lead singer/lyricist Blake Schwarzenbach is better known for his previous band, Jawbreaker, which some say was a pioneer group in the punk/emo/indie rock scene. But Jets is the band that I knew about growing up, so Jets is what you're gonna get.
"Perfecting Loneliness" sums up what's great about Jets to Brazil, and is probably my favorite song of theirs. There are moments of hard rock juxtaposed with moments of tenderness and honesty, all underscored by a kind of quiet desperation. It's really too bad that the rest of the album is so hit-or-miss; as such, the song stands as a real what-could-have-been.
Perfecting Loneliness
I'm a long list with no time.
Sunset panic on the street.
Sugar and lightbulbs:
the milk of kindness is behind us now.
With all those stones in your coat,
did you think they wouldn't know?
The tea leaves of trash sheets:
dirty needles and sweets.
Zero to heaven in seven:
a lifetime, a nanosecond.
All the sand in your glass
is going by so fast.
The radio is playing our tune.
I love it, could you turn it down?
The thought of you crying in my room...
I miss you, could you come around sometime?
When the night comes down,
the world becomes a room
under a microscope
with a labcoat and glue.
I'm fixing this hole
with everything I knew.
The music is making my head split.
I love it, could you turn it off?
The thought of you is tearing me in two...
I miss you, could you come around sometime? Sometime?
This list is what went right:
your name is written twice.
'Cause we live like astronauts
and our missions never cross.
The stakes are high--
we're standing by.
There used to be a hundred a ways to put my arms around you--
every one seemed new, natural, and true.
Perfecting loneliness 'til nothings holding us.
Consider Earth:
we could be the first.
-----------------
What is there to take from this song? As I alluded to in the intro to this post, the drug references are heavy and come often. "Perfecting Loneliness" is centered around a methamphetamine addict, and Schwarzenbach describes the conditions of her living: she's surrounded by "sugar and lightbulbs...trash sheets...dirty needles and sweets". The sugar, sweets, and lightbulbs are the clues here that what we're dealing with is meth: lightbulbs can be used to smoke it, and addicts coming off of it often crave sweets uncontrollably. Also, Schwarzenbach talks about "all those stones in [her] coat"...stones = rocks = crystal meth. There we go.
So the girl in the song has become an addict and her life seems unpleasant and also a total mess, but she probably wasn't always this way; Schwarzenbach probably used to date her, as he discusses "the radio...playing [their] tune" and says "I miss you, could you come around sometime?" He also knows the seriousness of her condition, acknowledging that "all the sand in [her] glass/is going by so fast"; if something doesn't change, she's going to die. This situation then clarifies some of the other lines in the song, such as in the beginning when Schwarzenbach states that he has "no time" and there is "sunset panic on the streets". Schwarzenbach is trying to find and help the girl before she uses again, but "when the night comes down/the world becomes a room/under a microscope/with a lab coat and glue", referencing to a meth lab.
I can't go further without pointing out what a strange structure this song has. Not the traditional verse/chorus/verse/chorus by any means, instead it goes something like this: verse/verse/bridge/verse/bridge/chorus/outro. It's generally not the best idea for your song's chorus to only play once, because that...is kind of not the point of a chorus. Nevertheless, that's exactly what happens here, so we had better pay it very close attention.
"This list is what went right:/your name is written twice". This isn't the first place that Schwarzenbach talks about lists. The very first line of "Perfecting Loneliness" states "I'm a long list". As much as these two statements might help clarify the other, it's still a very vague premise. Still, I'll take a shot. If Schwarzenbach is himself a "list"-- well, what are we made up of? Memories, experiences, feelings. If this girl's name is "written twice" on his list, that must mean that what he's shared with her is more important to her than any other part of his life. She's the part of him that is most treasured, and everything that "went right" for him.
So now we can understand why he's so distraught. This person, once so important to him, is spiraling out of control. As sung in the bridge, Schwarzenbach's helplessness is "tearing [him] in two", but he's unsure what to do about the situation and feels the girl drifting further and further away-- leading to the chorus' metaphor "we live like astronauts/and our missions never cross". Once so close, the two now travel in different circles, and their lives are almost entirely separate.
"The stakes are high:/we're standing by"...the stakes, obviously, being not only their relationship but the girl's life. All he feels he can do is wait to see how things turn out.
In the outro to the song, Schwarzenbach describes the way that things used to be in this relationship-- warm, safe, comfortable. "There used to be a hundred ways to put my arms around you--/every one seemed new, natural, and true". An amazing, understated way to describe the comfort of a great relationship. But now their arms aren't around each other, and Schwarzenbach misses the person that the girl used to be ("perfecting loneliness 'til nothing's holding us").
He ends by begging the girl to "Consider Earth:/we could be the first". To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what this means, but it somehow manages to infuse at least a glimmer of hope into the song. Keeping with the metaphor of astronauts, maybe it makes more sense to think about these lyrics from the perspective of those in outer space, where the view of Earth is (I've heard, not experienced) absolutely breathtaking. Perhaps Schwarzenbach here just wants her to have a new perspective on life, to consider the beauty that exists not only on earth but in the universe at large. Essentially saying 'you have so much to live for'.
As for "we could be the first"...well, they certainly wouldn't be the first two people to overcome addiction or to stabilize their lives and relationship. Still, there's something to be said for how being in love can cause us to feel like we're the only people out there who have ever felt a certain way or experienced certain things. If the vast universe causes us to expand our worldview, love causes us to narrow it-- not necessarily in a bad way. Perhaps Schwarzenbach is just describing that exhiliration, how good it would feel if things somehow worked out-- like they were the only people to ever have a happy ending to their story.
I am open to other interpretations.
Continuing on, the song slowly trails off toward its ending, bringing the astronaut metaphor into reality by steering the listener through space; clips of different NASA transmissions are played in the background. I'm unsure of the source of all of them, but from what I can make out, they're at the very least from the Apollo 8 and Apollo 11 missions, Apollo 11 including the first people to reach the moon. So maybe we are really supposed to think about the visions of the Earth that the astronauts must have had from that perspective. Regardless, it gives the listener the impression of floating out there in the darkness with Schwarzenbach.
I'll leave you with one of the few audible lines of the transmissions. It's the last one in the song, and perfectly sums up "Perfecting Loneliness," so much so that I can't really add anything else:
"It's a magnificent sight out here...magnificent desolation."
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.
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.