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June 14, 2003
Deconstructing Under the Table and Above the Sun...
The caveats:
In junior and senior high school I competed in dramatic poetry interpretation. One of the tasks our coach required in preparation was analysis of the pieces we selected; it's not enough to just read a poem aloud and expect to be able to insert enough meaning -- one needs to understand as much as possible of the author's intent, or at least to develop one's own detailed interpretation of the author's intent. When I studied creative writing at UT, I learned that the common term is explication, or close reading.
Before I cared about Walt Whitman or Edna St. Vincent Millay or Dylan Thomas, the only poetry that spoke to me was in the lyrics of my favorite songs. In high school freshman English, when we were to select five poems by one writer and analyze a theme, style, blah blah, I picked Sting. (Seriously, I thought his use of "poppies" in the song Children's Crusade, to connote both the fields of Flanders and the teenage drug addictions of the 80's, was about the brilliantest thing ever. Don't laugh! I was only 13, people. I wore a lot of black and lusted after Judd Nelson and lamented humanity all the time too. It was just The Thing To Do back then.)
I don't know a thing about music from any other perspective than as a fan. If there is a school somewhere where one can major in Lyrical Analysis and Music Studies, I'm sure those students will hunt me down and shoot me. I don't claim to be any sort of professional here. I just happen to think a lot about lyrics and how each line contributes to the whole, and then how a particular song fits in the album. Microcosm vs. macrocosm, blah blah.
Some people feel that to deconstruct a thing is to kill its mystery. If that's you, then please feel free not to read anything else here. I believe that everybody who listens to music looks for meaning, to some extent. How many RK interviews have we already read, where someone asked "what is this song about?" or "does that line refer to X?" Even when a fan learns all the words simply by rote, he or she is subconsciously processing a personal interpretation.
(Well, okay -- not always. It was just last year when I actually figured out that the Kinks' titular "Lola" was a transvestite, y'all. Not being a big Kinks fan, I'd never really listened... for years I just sang along and thought it was cool how much he loved that girl La-la-la-la-Lola.)
I don't claim to be right or in the loop or whatever; these are strictly my thoughts on some of the songs on Under the Table. Just like with any poem, a song can mean something to one person but something completely different to another, and yet a third thing to the poet himself. So, I'm not trying to be all high and mighty and tell you that "this is definitively what Willy was referring to here or Shifty meant there". Feel free to disagree with me, on the BADA or in your head or wherever -- but keep in mind that this is purely one person's perspective. In fact, as often as I'd need to type "In my opinion..." here, Gregg would probably get on me for wasting server space. Please just assume it's understood throughout.
Also, I won't be going in-depth on each song... many of them are self-explanatory.
#1: Let's Just Fall - W. Braun and B. Nelson
Beaver Nelson is a poet in his own right. So many of his lyrics could stand alone as art, even with no music to accompany -- witness this verse from "It Seems So Simple" (off his Legends of the Super Heroes):
#2: Nobody's Girl - W. Braun and M. Braun
My favorite part of this song is the bridge. Maybe the idea is planted by Micky's co-writing, but I could hear the Motorcars doing this one also. I think it would easily transcend genre, so I wouldn't be surprised to see Micky and Willy sell this one for some big bucks.
#3: Desolation Angels - W. Braun
[Alright, let me jump right out and declare my conflict of interest with this one. You don't have to look further than your URL window to know that this is my favorite song on the album; indeed, it's my favorite RK song to date. I first heard it in November 2001 at Antone's, and fell hard immediately. So, I can't guarantee my explication is colored by anything other than personal feeling.]
After hearing the song, I read Kerouac's book DESOLATION ANGELS, and its "companion" DHARMA BUMS ...and they really changed the way I felt about him as an author. I hated ON THE ROAD. Hated it. I am fully aware that it "defined the Beat Generation," blah blah -- but frankly, the book doesn't stand on its own merit other than that sense of time and place. The other two made me believe in and respect Jack Kerouac as a writer (and while I'm off on a tangent, if you like either the book or RK's song, you should read INTO THE WILD, the true story of Chris McCandless, who in 1990 graduated from college and promptly gave away all his possessions to disappear into the American West. He died alone in Alaska. Fascinating book, you won't be disappointed.).
Anyway, I've fully intended for several months to break out DHARMA & DESOLATION and do a full explication with "Desolation" the song, but there would be some serious copyright issues if I were to reprint the entire poem, or other relevant chapters -- and naturally they aren't available online. In a nutshell, the poem that Willy always refers to as the inspiration for the song is in DESOLATION, but the stories behind Kerouac's poem are in DHARMA, where Jack is told by a train tramp that Saint Teresa is their patron, and that she will shower dozens of roses on a traveling man when he is called to heaven. The "Midnight Ghost" is what the tramps call the Zipper express freight train.
[I've heard veiled implications that Willy's song is a knockoff, that other artists have already rhymed "coast" and "ghost", blah blah, namely Bob Dylan. Whether Dylan is a muse for Willy or not, that is a terribly weak argument, as dozens of other writers have rhymed those words as well -- and two words in common do not even count as an homage. Please, people...get over your Ben Fong-Torres-wanna-be selves. At least I stand right here and say up front that I have no idea what I'm talking about. Besides, the man pulls off the infinitely trickier "opportunity / immunity" and "validity / nobility" pairings with nary a blink -- don't make me come stand on your coffee table in my cowboy boots to defend him.]
This song could be about the band and their journey; the first verses really call to mind Willy's story behind "Eight More Miles". Or it could be about any one of us -- who hasn't had a life experience that is reflected here? Leaving home because you know you have learned all you can there, or getting out and discovering that the big ol' world isn't as magical and promising as it seemed, or realizing for the first time that you are actually growing older and that the time is disappearing faster than you can spend it, or being in a high, good place and wondering when it will all crumble around you? "Desolation Angels" is for everybody, and that is part of its magic.
I've heard several arrangements of this song. While I do like the version on Under the Table second-best, I'll confess that the original, longer arrangement has my heart. The instrumental parts between the verses always let me know that there was a transition there, that the singer is moving through stages of life, and coming to new awarenesses along the way. But, I'm not stupid, and I know that the longer version wouldn't have worked on this album -- so I'm super-glad that sweet Annie recorded the on-air that RK did at KGSR last year, where they played the original arrangement.
A story that might not be funny to anyone but Gregg and I: not long after Anne sent us a copy of that on-air, we saw RK at Billy Bob's in Fort Worth. It was the first night I remember seeing David with the lap steel; also I swore up and down that I heard Willy promote our website while on stage (and though no one else can confirm, I can't be convinced otherwise). On the way back to Dallas, we were listening to "Desolation" -- and spotted a girl pulled over on I-20 by the highway patrol. She was on the shoulder, doing "the walk," trying to keep a straight line despite her little strappy shoes and doubtless inebriation.
Immediately Gregg sang,
#4: Everybody - W. Braun
I adore this song. It is plaintive and elegant all at once (take a minute to pick out David's guitar solo, and you'll know exactly what I mean). "Everybody" is another where everyone can empathize: we've all done a double-take on the street at the man or woman that, for just a second, could have been someone from Our Past. The best line is "Head back laughing at the coffee shop / with a flower tattoo" -- we all know a laughing girl with a flower tattoo, and it brings this song into a much more visual experience. Now whenever I see that girl, I wonder which man in the room is looking at her wistfully, wishing she was the real one.
#5: I Saw it Coming - W. Braun, C. Braun, M. Braun, & P. Bennett
Is there a single person that saw Cody and Willy and Muzzie sing this that didn't have a vision of what the Braun Brothers Reunion in Stanley will be like? Fast as you can, get on the phone to the Muzz and order some of the old albums with all five Brauns (that Kimarie Lynn of the Chapman Motor Sales commercials can't yodel worth a plugged nickel, compared to Our Boys)... then come back and listen to "I Saw It Coming" again. For those of us in Texas who never got to experience the Brauns as a family band, it's the aural equivalent of a scrapbook.
And, funniest liner notes ever.
#6: Vancouver - W. Braun
It's too bad that "Desolation" got me first; this is my second favorite on the album. The theme to me is the metaphor of the singer's girl as "night", with the loss of light that evolves through the song, and that the end of the "day" is the end of the relationship. Here's how I see the stages:
Now, if I didn't think I might already be over-analyzing this one in particular, I'd draw another line for his travelling.... well, hell, I will anyway, why not:
I know that, for some, "And now I’m packing it up and I’m rollin' on out to Vancouver / For some wasted youth and a fresh set of lonely stars" is the strongest line in the song, but I prefer:
...I think that verse is more delicate, and more telling.
#7: Willamina - W. Braun
It's pretty common knowledge by now that Cody told the Austin American-Statesman that "Willamina" is about a meth lab; I think this article from a Willamina, Oregon-area newspaper pretty much says it all. I went to school in a town exactly the same size, and yeah -- when there is nothing else to do, the kids will get dangerously creative looking for entertainment.
I'm 95% sure that the "cats" of the song aren't animals at all, but the kids who partied at the house.
#8: Mersey Beat - W. Braun, C. Schelske
I'm going to date myself when I say this, but I first heard "Mersey Beat" at Dessau Hall (which has long since closed down). I'm glad this song made it onto the album. I've heard grumblings that some of the other newer pennings would have been a better choice, but to me that equals ignoring the influence of George Harrison and the Beatles on RK (well, on all bands, really -- point me to just one act in modern music that doesn't owe something to the Beatles, and I'll buy you a drink at the next show). It was a tribute to George when it was first written, and so to include it on the first studio album since his death makes perfect sense.
[Lawdy, the research that went into this one. I like the Beatles, but am not a Beatle-phile, per se. There are some really obscure references in this song, and I bow down to Shifty and Willy's obviously arcane knowledge of Beatle history.]
Most of the first two verses are exposition, and the history and song title are fairly common knowledge:
Now, here's where I'm sort of interpreting on my own:
Well the wild ones don't think much of Johnny
Still, it works on many levels, and I think the alternate meaning here is that the American critics do not take readily to John Lennon and his band when they hit the US.]
And you're a real king mixer
#9: Set Me Free - W. Braun
This is a classic "man vs. nature" about skiing, which I think Willy confirmed in an interview somewhere. I could hear Robert Keen doing this song -- oh, wait, no I can't, since he doesn't have a fiddle / mandolin player any longer.
The imagery and use of metaphor are especially nice here, like "the great mystery" of the moutaintop, close to God and high above "the iron horses" of man and machine. I think "we're only here because it's there" is the strongest line in the song, and one of the most spiritual anywhere on the album.
#10: Snowfall - W. Braun
The other "ski song" on the album, this is one Willy wrote for the soundtrack Warren Miller's 2002 film "Storm".
I wish they'd chosen a female vocalist to harmonize here. As good as Kim Richey sounds with Willy, it would have made "Snowfall" positively haunting. My opinion is biased though, because I've actually heard a woman sing harmony before -- it was a show out at Poodie's in February of '02. Willy was sitting in on drums for a band whose name escapes me; there were just a handful of people there. The lady in the band had seen RK do "Snowfall" for the first time the night before, at the weekly MoMo's Monday show with the Motorcars. She coaxed WB to borrow a guitar and sing it, and she just picked up a mic and joined him, no rehearsal. It was almost ethereal... you could hear a girl on a snowy mountain beckoning him home.
#11: Don't Want Me Around - W. Braun
This is the one song on which I'm sort of "meh" -- there was surely a reason a layman couldn't understand for why it was picked for the album.
If I might be indulged for a moment's introspection -- it's possible this song appeals to me less than the others for all the reasons I mentioned earlier: I look first to the words. I'm constantly trying to find the literal poetry in songs; ergo, this track's laconic lyrics don't grab me. To each her own, though, right?
#12: May Peace Find You Tonight - W. Braun
I appreciate the placement of this track; it's a nice finale as the album's energy winds down. For a ballad, I like that it's not too heavy. I'd kill to see WB on a 12-string live.
I don't want to be maudlin, but I've added this song to my Funeral Soundtrack: for years I've been compiling a list of the music that I'd like to be played, because at the last major event of my life, I don't want something so important left to chance (those that know me know I'll take any opportunity I can to plan a party!). "May Peace Find You" is not funereal, by any means, but neither are the other ones on my list, and that's the major requirement... I dread the idea of sad, dramatic, heart-wrenching songs (when all I want is a nice urn, someone say a few words, and then everyone go have drinks). Other songs on the list include Carly Simon's Let the River Run, and Susan Tedeschi's In the Garden, both of which I think are "spiritual-not-heavy," like "Peace".
I love this album, and I'm almost sad that it's so good. We've enjoyed Reckless Kelly as a local band for such a long time, but "I know that it can't last."
back to album "review"
back to notes about the CD release weekend
The oak it grows, strong and slow
Without ever hearing the actual song, one could almost read this in iambic pentameter (that ba-BUM ba-BUM ba-BUM ba-BUM ba-BUM rhythm for which Shakespeare was known, and which is crafted to flow like a human heartbeat). I couldn't ever see Willy's writing standing alone, nor would I want to... it's like the words themselves are equal partners with the notes. I think this is why Beaver and Willy make such a good team: there is more wordplay to these lyrics, lovely alliteration like "livin' life out on the lam," and lots of imagery -- the stuff that makes an ideal single. This is a great song for the first track.
Just as though the ground knows
That wind will blow and bend the rows
Of lesser life to wrecking
And so we take our chances great
And plant our stakes in stronger faith
So not to break but ever wake
Our strongest limbs outstretching I rode this country hard from sea to shining sea,
I laughed until I couldn't speak; we still sing it that way occasionally.
Shared a dance with field sobriety...We didn’t scream or shout
We just said good-bye
And I waited for the click
And the lights went out
Yeah a critic's got it rough:[The origin of the name "Beatles" is widely disputed; Stuart Sutcliffe, Brian Cassar, or John Lennon all could have suggested it, depending on which source you believe. Some claim it was a riff on Buddy Holly's Crickets. Regardless of the opinion, it seems likely that RK's line comes from a 1975 interview, in which George Harrison claimed that the inspiration was a 1953 biker movie called The Wild One, in which Marlon Brando's character "Johnny" is told that a rival motorcycle gang, the Beetles, don't think much of him.
But it's my train mister:[These are dialogue bits from the movie "A Hard Day's Night" -- the character of Paul McCartney's grandfather is called a "king mixer," to mean a troublemaker. I think these are to be defiant statements from the Beatles to the American critics; at least that aligns with the remaining lines, especially "standing on your own / or singing right along / with the ones no better than you" -- I take that for a nose-thumbing at the critic who can't make the music, yet fancies himself superior to the fans and the musicians.]
