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.

fun.: Be Calm (2009)

Now for something in total contrast to last week's selection.

fun.--yes, that's the correct punctuation--is a high-energy power-pop band that came out of the ashes of lead singer Nate Ruess' former band, The Format. Ruess is generally more well-known, in the circles that he is well-known at all, for his voice rather than his lyrics. But the truth is that they compliment each other pretty well, creating a sort of genuineness that forms a bond between the listener and Ruess.



Be Calm

As I walk through the streets of my new city
my back feeling much better, I suppose
I've reclaimed the use of my imagination
for better or for worse, I've yet to know
but I always knew you'd be the one to understand me,
I guess that's why it took so long to get things right.
Suddenly I'm lost
on my street
on my block

Oh why, oh why
Oh why haven't you been there for me?
Can't you see I'm losing my mind this time?
This time it's for real, I can see

All the treetops turning red
The beggars near bodegas grin
at me, I think they want something
I close my eyes, I tell myself to breathe

and be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes.
Be calm.

I'm scared that everyone is out to get me.
"These days before you speak to me you pause."
"I always see you looking out your window."
"After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."
Now every single crack, every penny that I pass,
says I should either leave or pick it up
But with every single buck I've made
I'm saddled with bad luck that came

the moment I was baptized or
when I found out one day I'm gonna die
if only I could find my people or my place in life
and when they come a'carolin'
so loud, so bright, the theremin
will lead us to a chorus
where we'll all rejoice and sing a song that goes:

Oh be calm.
Be calm.
I know you feel like you are breaking down
I know that it gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.
Take it from me, I've been there a thousand times.
You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive
and everything's wrong
It just gets so hard sometimes
Be calm.

I don't remember much that night,
just walking, thinking fondly of you
thinking how the worst is yet to come
When from that street corner came a song
And I can't remember the man,
the panhandler, or his melody.
The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee.
-----------------

So it's not exactly Billy Corgan's complex and meaningful verses, but that doesn't mean that these lines don't have any value. In fact, you could argue that "Be Calm" is at times more poetical than anything in "Muzzle". And rather than trying to describe a general feeling, Ruess' lines actually tell a story.

Ruess is experiencing a new status quo in his life, feeling "lost" as he wanders around his "new city". It seems like he's either just exiting or entering a new relationship, based on the lines "I always knew you'd be the one to understand me/I guess that's why it took so long to get things right." It's ambiguous, at least until a few lines later, but we get the idea that he's fresh out of a relationship both because he's in a new location physically and because he has "reclaimed the use of [his] imagination." Relationships are draining! They're a lot of effort to maintain properly, and it can often seem like there's no time for extraneous things like imagination. Hence Ruess' "back feeling much better"-- the burden has been lifted from him.

However, that doesn't mean that everything is great in life. He already wants back what he left behind: "why haven't you been there for me?" Not quite knowing where he is, Ruess starts "losing [his] mind," and becoming paranoid with the beggars he sees outside the convenience stores, which is apparently what "bodegas" means, according to Wikipedia. We're learning something!

It is at this point that the quality of the song really ratchets up, mostly due to the way the lyrics and music dovetail: as Ruess has what basically amounts to a panic attack, the pace of the music and words picks up, whirling around with a barely-controlled confusion. If you're singing along, as I often am, you'll notice that this part is really fun to sing. Why is that? If you are a total dork and guessed "because it's written in iambic quadrameter," you'd be right. Each line consists of four pairs of alternating stressed and unstressed syllables, giving the verse a great cadence. For example: "the beggars near bodegas grin."

I mean, basically. We're not talking Shakespeare here, so it's not perfect-- but everything here is at least iambic, even if what the "-meter" is fluctuates.

Ruess centers himself with the chorus: "be calm," and basically gives himself a little pep talk. Ths music slows back to normal to accomodate this.

What follows are, in my opinion, the best two portions of the entire song. As for the first, beginning with "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me": not only is 90% of it written in that old classic, iambic pentamenter, but what is sung is actually a dialogue between Ruess and his friends, displaying concern for the way he has recently been acting. The best part is that each of the lines are sung by different members of the band, creating a great interplay of voices.

Nate: "I'm scared that everyone is out to get me."
Female Friend: "These days before you speak to me you pause." (with an actual, awkward pause in there for effect!)
Male Friend: "I always see you looking out your window."
Other Male Friend "After all, you lost your band, you left your mom."

The proceeding bridge returns to the previous frenzied pace as Ruess works himself up again. He thinks of "his people [and] his place in life," both of which seem to be lacking. As such, the next chorus, though containing most of the same words as the first, is more frantic. He can't take his own advice.

In the final verse, Ruess seems to completely lose it. He refuses or is incapable of letting go of the past, "walking, thinking fondly" of it. His voice careens into the stratosphere as he sings: "I can't remember the man/the panhandler, or his melody./The words exchanged had far exceeded any change I'd given thee."

As we dip into the chorus a final time, Ruess obviously isn't following his own advice to "be calm." The violins in the song, which began it with a certain kind of sad sweetness, fall off with an almost sinister undertone before fading out entirely.

A hell of a journey. This is actually the middle portion of Ruess' tale, spread across three separate albums and nearly seven years of music-- but more on that later.