Thunderpussy (Whitney Petty, guitar & Molly Sides, vocals) performing live at Belltown Bloom 2023; photo by me (which is why the quality is so bad – sorry)
I’m currently writing at least two other posts for this blog, but I guess I’ll have to add a third to that amount because there is NO WAY that I’m going to write this post and then NOT follow up with an album review.
By “my favorite ladies of lightning,” I of course mean THUNDERPUSSY! (All caps not a legit style choice – I’m just excited, because I love them.)
THUNDERPUSSY ARE BAAAAAAACK! With WEST! (All caps – the actual style choice, no exclamation point included.)
I’ve been wondering since 2019 (New Year’s Eve of 2018/2019 was when I first saw Thunderpussy live) when Thunderpussy would release their second album, and while I completely understand a reassessment of the band’s goals after the worldwide shitshow that 2020-current became, I am SO HAPPY and excited that their next album is coming soon – May 10th, to be exact! (I already pre-ordered the album, but I am anxiously awaiting to find out when/if they release a CD of the album. It’s the next-best choice in terms of affordability while still cherishing the physical media aspect; a step up from digital albums in every way, but you’re probably not paying an arm and a leg like you are for the vinyl, even though I am a vinyl collector, myself, but…clearly, mostly of old albums.)
I know WEST is coming out on May 10th, and that’s less than a week away (YAAAAAAY!) from the time I’m posting this, but I’ve been obsessively listening to the three singles available to listen to from the album since I waited to listen to them until my birthday (April 27th), and what a TREAT it was and has been ever since to hear them. So, yes, I’m here to scream about a measly (but oh, are they mighty) three tracks that have reminded me why Thunderpussy are one of my favorite bands, and why I’m proud to have seen them live seven times and why I hope to see them live MANY MORE TIMES!
Since “Firebreather” as a single has been out for over a year now (I had to search my other blog to verify that time frame), I have to admit that the first time I heard it, I wasn’t that impressed. That’s even considering the fact that I’ve seen and heard them play it live. I’ve always liked it live, actually! But the studio version really never grabbed me the way the live version of it could. I’m not sure if it’s the hype I’ve now created (and fueled) in my mind in relation to the new album or what, but I’ve heard it with fresh ears now, seemingly, and the track fucking ROCKS. I even managed to transcribe the lyrics to the first verse (uncertainly, but I tried my best), and when I say it rocks…oh, it doesn’t just rock; it kicks ass and takes names.
“Firebreather, welcome to the west side Living my life, like I’m born out the dust Get off my back, you son of a bitch! Gonna take my time and take some chances Lead the way, spark a change while we’re dancing You are mistaken when you fuck with my life!”
My favorite line in the first verse is “Lead the way, spark a change while we’re dancing” because if THAT DOESN’T DEFINE THUNDERPUSSY’S MISSION STATEMENT, THEN I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT DOES. And I, as a fan, will clarify that I absolutely believe that Thunderpussy “lead the way” and “spark a change while we’re dancing,” but that it isn’t just a message about them – it’s also their hope for us, as listeners, fans and lovers of music, and, ultimately, community members.
Musically, “Firebreather” burns hot! The drums, provided by Michelle Nuño, are creative and fun and hard-hitting in the way I’d hope to hear from Thunderpussy, the basslines, provided by Leah Julius, are positively SMOKING, and Whitney Petty’s hard rock guitar underscores the rough edges of the song’s lyrical themes – and that guitar solo is a distorted, psychedelic-dyed mural I am more than happy to gaze upon. Molly Sides’ vocals are rock-appropriate gravelly in all the right places, but there are a couple of instances in the song where I felt her performance did not quite match the conviction of the the line she was singing – such as, in the extraordinarily powerful line “This body ain’t an apology!” Either she went a little flat singing the word “apology,” or I just wasn’t wholly convinced that she was singing it as sincerely as possible…both could be the case, and I hope to hear it sung better/with more certainty live, which I’m sure she will accomplish! Nonetheless, this is one of the three singles in particular that I have been listening to OBSESSIVELY on repeat. So, critiques aside, I’m obsessed with it, and I cannot WAIT to hear it live again – properly, as part of WEST!
“I Can Do Better” is a song that starts out contemplatively slow, but it glows with anticipation promised by the chorus: “I can do better – lord knows I’ve tried/I can do better, just not forever/Only tonight”. That it lends itself to a beautiful strings arrangement only heightens that expectation! And have no fear; the hard rock element that Thunderpussy is famous for remains, as the slow build of the melodic ballad erupts in the chorus and floats into the divinely epic bridge. Musically, it’s atmospheric and gorgeous, with all musicians (Sides, Petty, Julius, and drummer Lindsey Elias) in top form playing with the expertise that I’ve always personally witnessed and recognized from them.
The natural (as in: of nature) lyrical imagery in “I Can Do Better” seems purposeful enough in adding to the chorus’ concept of “I can do better, just not forever”. While I feel it unabashedly leans on apocalyptic themes musically and lyrically, it seems to suggest that languishing in destruction is necessary to spark hope for new growth; after all, in nature, a wildfire does not always mean eternal death – sometimes things must die in order to recover and thrive even better than before. “I can do better” as a phrase, alone, is an acknowledgement that one has failed to do well enough at one time, but that one can improve in the future/next time. I also imagine that the ‘serpent’ in the lines “The wind picked up and the blades of grass/Show us the serpent, reminding us to rest” represents the ouroboros – the snake or dragon eating its own tail symbolizing an eternal cycle of renewal, or the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. (Although “the serpent” may also be a nod to the band’s debut album cover, as well. It was where they started, and they needed rest to come back with WEST!)
Based on those ideas, I would recognize “I Can Do Better” as Thunderpussy’s true ‘return to form’ (and even better than before) track – perfect for the album’s official, first single.
The first time I heard “N.E.D.”, within the first few seconds I thought, ‘Oh, SHIT, THEY ARE SO BACK!‘ THIS is the Thunderpussy that I love! After listening to this song, I think I know why Thunderpussy named this album WEST…besides: the existence of its title track; and “Firebreather”‘s reference in the opening verse, “welcome to the west side”, which also shares this musical influence I’m about to mention; it reminds me musically of themes they explored in their EP Milk It, which I loved, but particularly through the track that sounds like it would perfectly accompany a spaghetti Western, “Trust A Man.” (Side note: I’m a little surprised that “Trust a Man” isn’t on WEST.) While I still have no idea what N.E.D. stands for, musically and lyrically it’s like introducing the wild west to hard rock and lesbians (respectively). Smashing stereotypes everywhere they go – what’s not to love?
My only complaint about this recording (not even necessarily the performance) is that I feel the drums were turned down FAR more in the mix than they should have been. While I hear lots of delicious bass, layered guitars, and KEYBOARDS (FUCK YES, KEYBOARDS IN ROCK MUSIC. ALWAYS! But, then again, my favorite band of all-time is Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, who would not have been a band AT ALL had it not been for their keyboardist, Benmont Tench), I feel that such a hard rocking song (despite the western-themed melodies) SHOULD have plenty of loud drums. And they’re not loud enough in this – at all! Sure, I could turn the volume up on whatever I’m currently blasting this song out of, but the point remains: why should I have to sacrifice my hearing ability just to hear some good, hard-hitting drums in the mix? Great, that I can hear EVERYTHING else – and it sounds amazing – but, really? You’re going to sacrifice the volume of the drums just to make everything else intelligible? I think…some better decisions could have been made regarding the recording/engineering/mixing of this track (I’m grouping those three tasks as one optionally, because I don’t know how any of them are accomplished, and thus I do not know who exactly was responsible for this…but as barely a musician, myself, and mostly a fan, I can at least make that inference).
Regardless, since my first listen-through of the three singles, “N.E.D.” was the song that I immediately put on repeat. Excluding the volume of the drums, it reminds me of their eponymous song “Thunderpussy” – badass, daring, deliciously distorted rock and roll about wlw (women loving women). Need I say more?
If you happen to catch Thunderpussy’s live introduction to WESTat Benaroya Hall on May 10th, I’d LOVE to hear about how the album translated to a live performance accompanied by a full symphony. I unfortunately will not be able to experience this undoubtedly momentous occasion, myself (I’m hoping the next tour that Thunderpussy embark on will include my Greater Seattle area town – easier for me to get to and get home from), but I feel as stoked for the band’s performance as if I were going to witness it personally, anyway! That’s what it feels like to be part of the community that loves, follows, and leads with Thunderpussy – we are with them as much as they are for us, and anyone who doubts the impact that good music can have might as well be a firebreather.
I am aware that most people hear “Wonderland”1 by Big Country as a simple love song. And you would be halfway correct in thinking that, by saying that, I have implied that I do not think “Wonderland” is a simple love song.
It has taken me an almost full year (and what an obsessive year it has been, haha!) since I first heard this song to realize that my perception of it is…probably at least a little bit unconventional. You’ve heard of a conventional love song, haven’t you? Well, I do wonder if this one may be, then, an unconventional love song, though probably not in the way you’re thinking. (What way are you thinking of? What does “unconventional”, much less an “unconventional love song,” imply to you?)
While the chorus alone points to it being a conventional-enough love song, so much of the context of this song (almost too much) seems to point to where it could transcend the trappings of a love song. Still, of course, this is my analysis of it, written through my personal lens and my biases (although that is individually true of everything anybody ever writes…). I mean, just because the songwriter, Stuart Adamson, was a heterosexual man and intended this song to exclusively be sung to/written for a woman does not actually mean that everyone can and will possibly hear it that way (plus, the song’s narrator never specifies the gender of his partner – the person he’s singing to/for), not to mention the fact that not everything a person writes is about themself, even if everything they write or say is a reflection of themself (and at least, to me, those are two separate ideas which I believe can apply to this song). Personally, I think the less specific a writer is, the more opportunity there is to embrace many diverse ideas about the subject of their writing. So, this is just one of those ideas among, I would hope, a sea of ideas.
With that said, I intend to analyze how this song remarks upon more than just a type of love restricted by the conventions of a simple love song, and, to a lesser extent (being my analysis), to exhibit why I think it’s one of the greatest songs ever written. (And no, I do not lightly bestow that concept/title on just any song.)
The first 25 seconds of this song makes it more than worth it to hear on repeat 30+ times in a row: the light percussion and the ringing guitar riff (played by Bruce Watson), followed quickly by that HUGE drum sound courtesy of good production choices (thank you, Steve Lillywhite) and Mark Brzezicki on drums that is just so exhilarating (and, from my listening perspective of Big Country’s first five albums, a rather trademark sound for them), and then that hard rock guitar riff (played by Stuart Adamson)…literally what better way is there to bait and hook a listener who loves rock music? Oh, and then of course Adamson comes in with that BEAUTIFUL “Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ooooh” semi-screamed/yelled opening that is so full of admirable effort that you can forgive the scream (if, like me, you’re not a fan of hearing men screaming in music) and the brief little crack in his voice which I actually find so endearing…I’m sorry, but how was I not supposed to immediately love this song?
Musically, Watson’s guitar riff and Tony Butler’s bassline work together startlingly well to emulate the sense of wonderland – something vaguely dreamy or dream-like – that underscores everything more aggressive and subjectively overwhelming like Adamson’s guitar riffs and Brzezicki’s drums. It’s an incredible balance of ‘Here’s what the ideal (also known as wonderland) sounds like’ versus ‘Here’s what reality is/sounds like,’ and it’s displayed quite effectively in the arrangement. You can also hear this idea even better in the 12″ mix, as all of the instrumentation is far less restrained and the volume of the vocals is also turned up to better hear the harmonies punctuating the hopefulness of wonderland. (Not to mention that the 12″ mix offers the opportunity to hear Butler’s genius bass playing more isolated, and Brzezicki’s drums sound positively WILD! The outro also incorporates Adamson’s lively guitar lick that often introduced “Wonderland” in Big Country’s live performances.)
When it comes to the verses, I will analyze what role love plays in wonderland, and how the verses present evocative, thoughtful impressions to illustrate wonderland.
So for the first verse we are introduced to:
“If you could feel how I must feel The winds of quiet change If you could see what I must see Still hidden in the rain But when the thunder rolls It comes and covers up my soul”
With lines like “If you could feel how I must feel –/The winds of quiet change,” and (my favorite, even though it’s conceptually a bit muddied) “But when the thunder rolls/It comes and covers up my soul,” the narrator clearly has an idea of what wonderland could be like (the former lines), all while voicing the reality of…well, reality (in the latter lines). Because not only is he certain he feels “the winds of quiet change” and that he sees what is “still hidden in the rain,” his idea of wonderland is someone not just believing these things, but knowing (feeling and seeing) them as confidently as he does. To quote the marvelous, beloved writer James Baldwin in proving how that idea relates to love, “If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.”2 As for the meaning of the line “But when the thunder rolls/It comes and covers up my soul,” I have immense gratitude to a friend for suggesting that he probably means the sound of thunder drowns out his soul – or, analyzed further, his environment that is represented by weather (thunder is usually conceptualized as scary…considering that it’s sounds that occur beyond human control) drowns out his introspection/his ability to hear and thus understand his soul.
The next two verses continue to reinforce what the narrator’s version of wonderland looks like and works the hardest to subvert the typical love song (and, as I hope to prove, it succeeds!).
“If you could hear what I must hear Then nothing would replace The fifty years of sweat and tears That never left a trace But when I look at you I see you feel the same way too”
The first part of the verse is one of my favorite lyrics in the song: “If you could hear what I must hear/Then nothing would replace/The fifty years of sweat and tears/That never left a trace” because it is clear here that what the narrator means is ‘I don’t want this reality of fifty years of sweat and tears not leaving a trace – I wish this had made its mark actually, and I wish everyone acknowledged it!’ If it wasn’t already clear from the first verse what he meant, we come to understand that the narrator’s idea of wonderland is not needing to wonder about the future (because of the way the past was neglected); in his version of wonderland, the past was never neglected – it was properly acknowledged, felt, seen, and heard, and that knowledge and those feelings were built upon to create the future that wonderland represents. If you’re following me here, you may start to understand that, unconventionally, this is not just a love song to a person, let alone a singular person (but I’ll explain more later on). Finally, not only does the narrator evoke empathy through the lyrics “But when I look at you/I see you feel the same way too,” but it continues to reinforce what his idea of wonderland is like and how love fits into that – through empathy.
In the final, heart-achingly beautiful verse, we get:
“You still remember other days When every head was high I watched that pride be torn apart Beneath a darker sky With innocence within ourselves We sing the same old song”
Most interestingly, the perspective in the first line of this verse abruptly shifts to narrate “You still remember other days when every head was high” before switching back to first person, “I watched that pride be torn apart beneath a darker sky.” The first line makes me ask: ‘Who remembers other days, when every head was high?’ We’re led to believe via the following line that the perspective in the first line is someone of a previous/older generation, and the narrator asserts that it is people within his generation who has witnessed the fall of said pride. The final lines of the verse beautifully illustrate his generation’s hope (and the hope he has for himself and his partner through wonderland): “With innocence within ourselves/We sing the same old song”. By relating to each other through a child-like optimism (the stage of life everyone goes through, when they’re as innocent as can be, and the ironic use of “we sing the same old song,” which is recognizing that everyone once knew that feeling of innocence and optimism and that it can and should be harnessed again, now), he hopes it will rally their motivation to create their ideal future or wonderland. (ALSO, to get meta for a moment, I used the term “rally” very deliberately, because musically, during the duration of those lines in the song specifically, Brzezicki strategically plays a militaristic-like drum roll there!) I also think it’s important to point out that the beginning of this verse deals with literally such dark, adult realities – “You still remember other days/When every head was high/I watched that pride be torn apart/Beneath a darker sky” – and it’s resolved by this mobilizing offer to return to (or more like: to bring back) childish innocence in order to break the cycle of these dark realities. Technically, that’s also what he’s asking of the person he’s singing to, like in the second verse, and who he’s ultimately asking to escape to wonderland with. Additionally, the childish connotations in the final two lines from the pre-chorus were also necessary, “And you will take my hand/And make believe it’s wonderland”, considering that ‘make believe’ is most often referred to as something that children play at (and, generally speaking, children tend to play make believe unrestrained, with very little inspiration needed – they create their own inspiration). And yet that all reads as very naïve – like ‘Yeah, so, if we all just pretended to have the same innocence we once had as children we could get along better and make more progress creating the future/reality we want instead of refusing to learn from or acknowledge the past so that our current reality is in some cases worse than ever before’ – but it’s also rather meta because it could also, therefore, still not be taken seriously (like, how often are children taken seriously to begin with!?), and I definitely think Adamson intentionally wrote it that way. (And what a great, legitimate example of when and where men should be asked “So how does fatherhood affect your music/writing ability?” the way music writers/interviewers always assume motherhood affects the work of women songwriters! But *coughs* that might be a rant for another post…or many other posts…)
To give you all a break after that very long, meandering commentary of a paragraph, my point, especially proven by that verse, is that the love meant to be found via wonderland is ultimately not meant for just a single person/lover/significant other/beloved/etc. – wonderland is his vision for the future as much as it is a place to escape to amid the everyday horrors of reality (amount of privilege not considered in the level of those horrors at this time…), and it is not meant for just one love but to be a loving place in general, for all.
Reaching what I will refer to as the pre-chorus, I will analyze them here separately from the rest of the chorus.
In short, in the pre-chorus “And you will take my hand/[and be with me in/make believe it’s] wonderland,” ‘wonderland’ acts most overtly as a method of escapism, although, based on all of the verses (and where I mentioned ‘reality/what is‘) prior to the choruses, we understand why that escapism is so necessary. To reiterate what I said two paragraphs ago, ‘wonderland’ is not just a place to escape to, but a place to dream; a place to escape to, in this case, for the narrator and the person (and people, overall!) he’s singing to, where they can imagine (dream) and thus build a loving, thoughtful, and respectful future that supercedes the present (a current time, therefore, which he is also implying is not loving, thoughtful, or respectful).
Finally for the chorus where I absolutely, shamelessly swoon:
“I am an honest man I need the love of you I am a working man I feel the winter too”
To state what this chorus illustrates through a meme: it’s called vulnerability. Look it up. Maybe you’ll discover something wonderful. *coughs* Really, the chorus is simply a display of vulnerability, WHICH – YES, I’M GOING TO SAY IT – IS NOT POPULARLY SHOWN BY MEN, particularly vulnerability that is not demonstrated manipulatively (aka receiving benefits that are not mutually shared by the demonstration of vulnerability, such as men who think that being emotionally vulnerable with women entitles them to sex), and from the pre-chorus alone (at least I would argue that “And you will take my hand/And be with me in wonderland” is not a demand but a gentle, polite suggestion) we can absolutely infer that reciprocity is expected, so YES, it does bear acknowledging. In the rhythm of the chorus, supported by the unmistakably skipped drum beat and the bass that punctuates each line, the chorus sounds a lot like a list of how he describes himself – ‘I: am an honest man, need the love of you, am a working man, feel the winter too.’ It could also be understood as the ways in which he pursues the ideal world of wonderland (being honest and utilizing love in order to actively work toward the future he dreams of in wonderland) while admitting the barriers or cycles of negativity that exist to stall his efforts. The reason why I see the line “I feel the winter, too” as a barrier is because, to put this idea into context with the rest of the song, which I feel is also supported by context present in many other Big Country songs (easy context to find, though, such as in “In a Big Country”), it is a metaphor for depression and anxiety – “the winter” represents a state of being (mentally, emotionally, and physically) that freeze one’s endeavor to create the ideal world/state of reality that is sought after through wonderland. I also see the last line possibly being read ambiguously, as though mutually acknowledging that he and whoever he is singing to (particularly in the line “I need the love of you“) both “feel the winter”. Regardless, the last line works perfectly as the final line in the chorus because it acknowledges that progress is often not linear, as though to say that if one looks back at where one has been (and remembers all of the motives that keep one moving forward), it actually is easier to see where one needs to go; it is as hopeless a line as the rest of the song is hopeful, which is a reminder that the rest of the song is hopeful. (And that, I feel is necessary to add, is a devastatingly beautiful, unique attribute of Adamson’s songwriting, especially with Big Country.) I will say again that, in its entirety, the chorus acts as a display of vulnerability, which, therefore, must mean that vulnerability is also an expectation of wonderland, and if it is to be a loving place, it must also be a place to freely express that vulnerability. (NOW is this song on your list of, I don’t know, “Greatest Love Songs of All Time”?! Me, it’s just on my list of “Greatest Songs of All Time.” Love doesn’t need to have anything to do with it, although it could be a benefit…)
To return to the idea of conventional vs. unconventional love songs, overall, the most unconventional aspect of this love song is that, while the narrator’s love is clearly intended for one person (like a conventional love song), his hope represented through wonderland illustrates a more universal, shared and cultivated love that is not restricted to only himself and his partner. I actually specifically suggested that his hope for love extends to generations, which is broad enough to include everyone, anyway, but most importantly (I hope I’ve argued) for the future and future generations.
To sum up the perceived goal of this song in one sentence, I hear it sounding like this: We will learn from the past, dammit, and we will not stand for a future without love…and it will start with us, but we are not the only ones.
If I’m in the minority of people who appreciate even their favorite love songs to be a little political (hi, that’s the first time in this analysis I’ve specifically called it ‘political’!), that’s fine. I’m grateful to dream within “Wonderland” as much as I intend for it to inspire me to manifest my dreams outward, just as, I believe, Stuart Adamson hoped for through this song. As far as love is concerned, “Wonderland” is simply a song to hope with as much as a song to hope for.
Big Country. Wonderland, jfng, bigcountryinfo.com/originals/wonderland.htm. Accessed 28 Jan. 2024. ↩︎
BALDWIN, JAMES. “THE BLACK SCHOLAR INTERVIEWS: JAMES BALDWIN.” The Black Scholar, vol. 5, no. 4, 1973, pp. 33–42. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41065644. Accessed 29 Jan. 2024. ↩︎
In truth, I’ve posted and written about Fanny’s version of this song, “Hey Bulldog”, somuchalready, but I’m writing this new post because I’ve found that I actually do have something different to say about it, and I want to do so by intentionally comparing it to the original version.
If you aren’t already familiar with The Beatles’ version of this song (the original version), 1) you’re lucky, and 2) I would actually like to ask that you check it out for the purpose of this post (and I am embedding it here for your convenience).
When I listen to The Beatles’ version, I hear the end of the band. I hate to say that, because The Beatles’ material among their last three/four albums are my favorite from the band’s entire career, but I’m being honest. I hear their no-longer-togetherness in the production, of so many important parts of this song being recorded literally separately and overdubbed. And maybe my comparison for the sake of this post won’t land quite the same way because, in this case, I’m comparing Fanny’s live version of this song to The Beatles’ studio recording of it (since they never played it live), but trust me when I say that doing this is better…because if I compared The Beatles’ version of it to Fanny’s studio version of it, my comparison would be so much worse than it already is (for The Beatles; not for Fanny).
Listening to The Beatles’ version of this song, besides sounding detached, it strikes me how clinical it sounds. Maybe part of it is the production, but it sounds sterile – way too sanitary and overly polished for the lyrical AND musical thematic content of the song. It just doesn’t work quite as well as it could have, had it been more of a group/team effort in recording it.
Now, to finally address the version of this song that I posted and mentioned first – Fanny’s version of this song – I’m going to try to avoid reiterating my favorite thing about their version of this song (the extra verse they added in, which they got permission from the ex-Beatles themselves to add). Focusing on this particular live version of it, let’s talk about the way it opens – slowly, with Nickey Barclay’s piano not quite touching the main riff that opens The Beatles’ version, and June Millington’s fuzzed out guitar building toward the first verse.
Not only do Fanny purposefully choose not to introduce the song with its recognizable intro riff (which most people, whether they’re familiar with The Beatles’ music or not, can probably acknowledge as something they’ve heard before at the very least), but by letting its intro build slowly, they literally give the song space to distinguish itself from the original version. You’ll probably also notice that the pacing of Fanny’s live version drags a little bit, but that’s only a critique afforded to this live version. In spite of that, you know what else I hear in this live version that’s far – vastly – different from The Beatles’ version? Life. By god, I hear life. This song is living, breathing! Don’t you know the slower pace is just its heartbeat, steady and patiently willing to fulfill its lyrics’ very promise: “If you’re lonely, you can talk to me”?
And in that vein, something I believe I have talked about before, is that is how and why this song succeeds (far better than The Beatles’ version ever did) – because the way Fanny plays this song is honestly, graciously, and openly inviting discussion. “If you’re lonely, you can talk to me,” because “I know just what it’s like to listen to my fears,” and “You think you’re going/But you haven’t got a ride” (bolded lyrics and last quoted lyrics are Fanny’s revision and Fanny’s original verse, respectively); in spite of John Lennon’s dark and unsettling lyrics, Fanny’s version is championing empathy. Even Barclay’s adorably ad-libbed “Come on, bulldog! Dry your feet now!” is offering space for patience and empathy.
Somehow, too, I find that June Millington’s guitar solo is more vivacious, more realistic, and in that regard more interesting thematically for the song than John Lennon’sGeorge Harrison’swhichever Beatle actually played it the original version’s solo which is fittingly volatile but only underpins what we already know and understand about/in the song. The lively nature of Millington’s guitar solo seems to indicate this idea that, ‘in spite of all of this paranoia and self doubt and also maybe the dark, vaguely threatening tone of my guitar, I’m open-minded.’ The riff with which it fades into the outro works similarly, but as a steady reinforcement that it’s true – that it’s being honest. Maybe that sounds crazy and unrealistic, because how the fuck do instruments sound like they’re telling the truth versus lying, but surely it also comes down to musicianship. And there is little to no dishonesty in June Millington’s guitar playing ever. And I would be remiss not to mention that the rest of the band’s musicianship reflects similarly, and if it didn’t, this version would sound a lot more like The Beatles’ version than it does, so: Fanny’s “Hey Bulldog” would certainly not succeed as well as it does without the essential rhythmic melody of Nickey Barclay’s piano (the piano riff, which this song was originally built around), nor the steady and groovy support of Jean Millington’s basslines or Alice de Buhr’s unwavering timing and straight-ahead, badass drumming, without which this song’s heartbeat would have very little heart, let alone a beat! Simply stated, if it were not for all of these elements working together honestly and empathetically (and also: joyously! You can tell in the performance that they’re all having fun! Try not to judge de Buhr, though; that’s just her usual intense face of concentration, which I love), it would not have that necessary tone of a collective effort. And that’s the tone that was missing from the original version all along: the tone of collectiveness!
Fanny’s version of this song is everything the song should have been. And if you haven’t heard Fanny’s studio version of “Hey Bulldog” off of their astounding album Fanny Hill (1972), I say to you: good luck. I find it difficult to restrain myself from listening to it on repeat for four hours minimum. Aren’t we lucky that it had the consolation of existing, after all!
A screenshot from my other blog: Anonymous asked: Hi! Just saw your post about Redbone and wanted to say I’d really love to hear your detailed thoughts on “We Were All Wounded at Wounded Knee” and Redbone in general 💙
For reference, and so maybe you can listen to it while reading this analysis, here is a video of the studio version of the song that I base my analysis on!
The first time I heard “We Were All Wounded at Wounded Knee” by Redbone in May of 2020, I wondered where the song had been all my life. I knew Redbone’s [greatest] hit “Come and Get Your Love”, which is on my anti-depression/happy/upbeat songs playlist, but it took me a long time to finally discover much more of Redbone’s music. But the first time I heard “We Were All Wounded at Wounded Knee”, I thought, ‘Oh, what the fuck! A song about the TRUTH, finally!’ Yeah, maybe my finally! thought was nearly 50 years too late, but I thought that even if I’d had the chance to hear that song while I was in public school, learning about the full breadth of colonization’s harms when America was ‘discovered’ (which I didn’t learn until college) would have prepared me so much earlier for learning that later on – and yes, the knowledge of the real, honest history of America is painful, but at the same time it gives me hope that I can do better, with this knowledge of the past – I can make choices that are properly informed so that we do not repeat history, and I can only hope that the choices I make serve as an example of how to encourage a more respectful, less oppressive future for the country (people, land, water, communities) I call home.
That being said,“We Were All Wounded At Wounded Knee”, a song so politically and musically important [that it was blacklisted by the U.S. basically before it was ever even released as a single] deserves historical context before I delve into any sort of analysis of it. So please respect the journey through American history that is necessary to embark on in order to best understand what this song is all about!
Now, we will get to the historical context of the song right after this, but to keep the historical context fresh right before I get into the analysis of the song, I’d like to present some background information on the creation and release of “We Were All Wounded at Wounded Knee” first – background information on it as a single, and as the final song on side one of the album Wovoka (1973). I found this Youtube video where Pat Vegas [this song’s primary songwriter from the band] talks about the story behind this song: “I got together with a friend of mine named Sandy Baron, and we set up, and in five days, we wrote the lyrics, we put the music together, got the record pressed, and got it out. … But in [the U.S.], CBS says, ‘Nope, we don’t want it, we will not release it, we won’t touch it.’ I said, ‘Fine.’ So I snuck in to the Santa Ana plant where CBS prints the records, and I had 500 [singles, and paid for them to be] made, and I carried the 500 [singles] under my arm to Europe, ’cause I felt, you know, maybe Europe will feel different. And sure enough, it became the biggest record of the year!” Furthermore, “We Were All Wounded At Wounded Knee” was ONLY EVER on the U.K. version of Wovoka; no other released versions of Wovoka include the song, and I infer that is because the song was already successfully released as a single in Europe, and because the record company (CBS, which was originally Columbia Records, was bought by Sony in 1990, and then CBS was renamed Sony Music Entertainment in 1991; Sony Music Entertainment then split European operations into two separate labels – Epic Records and Columbia Records – so Wovoka and the single were originally released by the label that is currently known as Epic Records) had already refused to release the single in the U.S. (or anywhere, honestly – Pat Vegas singlehandedly did the work of promoting the single by taking the pressings to Europe, meaning that if he or the band hadn’t done that, the record company would have never done ANYTHING to release, let alone promote, the single, so the record company wasn’t about to include the song on an official album release, either). In my research on Discogs.com, it appeared that the ONLY publishing company that enabled the song to be released on Wovoka was April Music Ltd. (which was the same U.K. company that published the single), a company in the U.K. (that was renamed CBS Songs Inc. in 1983, then re-incorporated as a separate entity in 1996, then renamed in 2019 to ‘Universal Music Neighbouring Rights Limited’; which is to say, that all happened well after the release of Wovoka) so it’s almost singularly thanks to April Music Ltd./EMI April Music Inc. for its inclusion on ANY album release of Wovoka at all.
Now for the historical context of the song, the title of “We Were All Wounded At Wounded Knee” evokes two separate incidents in American history, both called Wounded Knee but with each of their own, historically specific titles – the Wounded Knee Massacre (1890), and the Wounded Knee Occupation (1973). Most importantly, the song is about the Wounded Knee Massacre, but with the very recent incident of the Wounded Knee Occupation (which started on February 27, 1973; the single was released in May, 1973, and Wovoka was recorded in June and October of 1973 and released in November, 1973), the band capitalized on the incident’s press being in the public’s consciousness to call back to the original event at Wounded Knee, which I’d suggest was a way to reinforce how history repeats itself. The song is, of course, mostly about the Wounded Knee Massacre, and if you don’t know anything about it, I’ll try to sum it up briefly before you go on to do your own research about it: the Wounded Knee Massacre (also known as the Battle of Wounded Knee) took place on December 29, 1890, near Wounded Knee Creek on the Lakota Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. The Battle is better known as a Massacre because it wasn’t much of fair battle between the combined group of Miniconjou and Hunkpapa Lakota and (as the song names specifically) the U.S. 7th Cavalry Regiment – when the 7th Cavalry went in to disarm the Lakota during a forced confinement to Wounded Knee Creek (the disarming of which was preceded by the ignorant troops witnessing the Lakota performing the rituals of the “Ghost Dance,” which was started by Wovoka – hence the album title! – and perceived it as a threat [of violence by the Lakota]). When a deaf Miniconjou Lakota man, Black Coyote’s, gun allegedly went off as the troops attempted to take it, the Regiment opened fire on the Lakota (many of whom had already been disarmed – as I mentioned, it was not a fair fight). About 250-300 Lakota were murdered, with 51 injured (some of whom died later), and 25 soldiers were killed with 39 wounded (6 of whom died later – critical thinking moment: why is there a specific number of “later on” deaths of [presumably white] American soldiers, while there isn’t a specific number of later deaths for the Lakota?). The Ghost Dance also deserves some additional context, which might also explain some other lyric references: briefly, the Ghost Dance was started by Northern Paiute spiritual leader Wovoka, who claimed that the ritual of the dance (which blended a messianic form of Christianity with traditional Native beliefs) would end settler colonialism, reunite the living with the spirits of the dead, and that in doing so, the dead would fight on behalf of the living; and apparently the Lakota’s version of the Ghost Dance was more millenariastic than Wovoka’s original version – the Lakota’s Ghost Dance, in addition to including Wovoka’s original teachings, appeared to more specifically promise that the colonizers would vanish and that the bison would return. But overall, the general idea of the Ghost Dance was to bring peace (to all), prosperity, and unity to the Native people throughout the region (x). And I would like to stress that, overall, the Lakotas performed the Ghost Dance as a method of survival.
For my critique and analysis of the song, I will: share my thoughts on the structure of the song, contextualize the lyrics when and where necessary (or refer back to where I already did), analyze the lyrics, and of course talk about the music itself!
To begin, let’s talk about the way the song opens – right away with the chorus! And, in fact, right before the lyrics of the chorus starts, the song is introduced with a light piano and drum combo which tapers off into a steady drumbeat (employing techniques of traditional Native drum music) as the vocals come in with: “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me/We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me/In the name of Manifest Destiny/You and me/You and me/You and me…” It’s so noteworthy to mention when the instrumentation and vocals come in exactly as they repeat the line “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee,” as though to reinforce the togetherness of the statement (“all”) with the full force of the band (instruments and ALL of the glorious harmonies!). The hot-as-hell funky electric guitar riff coming in during the intro chorus, then pausing during the drum break toward the end of the chorus (the drumbreak was also a very good choice as the classic drumroll musically evokes a march) for “We were all[/not] wiped out by the 7th Cavalry” and coming back in after “Cavalry” to support the statement of the lyric is also a really great choice musically and definitely shows off a major characteristic of the Wovoka album overall! Onward, I wouldn’t want to gloss over “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me/In the name of Manifest Destiny/You and me”. If you don’t know what Manifest Destiny is, it is simply the whole basis/justification that the U.S. used for western colonization and expansion. I think: honestly, Redbone could have said anything about Manifest Destiny, but you know what they did instead? They highlighted the harm it caused TO “YOU AND ME”! And while I do believe that Redbone are talking to each other and/or other Native people specifically when they sing “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me,” I don’t think they would have been so general in their word choice of “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee” – because non-Native people (colonizers, in fact) were involved in the Wounded Knee Massacre and the Wounded Knee Occupation, too, weren’t they? (Yes, yes they were.) And when Redbone sings “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me”, I will point out that they’re singing to an audience – an audience (the “you”) which they were aware of, and probably ideally HOPED (if I may insert my own colonial assumption there) – that was not all Native. This might also be my own colonial judgment and assumption, but considering the very general/broad word-choice for their audience, I get the sense that, in this chorus, Redbone intentionally propose that colonialism (what Manifest Destiny justified) harms EVERYONE, and it works overall as a chorus to suggest that colonialism is the root of how and why [American] history repeats itself – an idea made all the more genius considering the inherently repetitive nature of a chorus in the first place.
Now, if the chorus as the intro didn’t pack enough of a punch, the second verse comes in with plenty of groovy instrumentation but just Pat Vegas singing lead as he continues to present the real history – the truth – of the Wounded Knee Massacre (and beyond that one incident, too; another genius credit to them, and an F, zero credit to the American government): “They made us many promises/But always broke their word/They penned us in like buffalo/Drove us like a herd/And finally on the reservation/We were going for our preservation/We were all wiped out by the 7th Cavalry”. The first two lines do not just discuss past history, but proof of the current and ongoing colonial project that the American government STILL enacts to this day (see: ICWA & Haaland v. Brackeen), so in that way, I’m sorry to estimate, the song aged poorly. The similes in the third and fourth lines are great to showcase two different historical references, one being the U.S. Military’s unofficial but active attempt to force the Native populations (who relied on the buffalo) into assimilation by murdering the buffalo into extinction (assimilation tactics which also included displacing, or “penning in” the tribes to government-specified reservations), and I would theorize that the other reference is to the Ghost Dance that the Lakota performed pre-Wounded Knee Massacre which the Lakota hoped (in performing the dance properly) would bring back the buffalo (among other reasons I mentioned earlier). The rest of the verse, of course, explicitly refers to the Wounded Knee Massacre, including pre-massacre, and the Lakota tribe’s attempt to evade the U.S. Military’s enforcement to confine the tribe to their government-appointed village on the reservation.
The next verse presents a hopefulness that, I feel, deeply permeates the entire song as a whole and transforms it positively from a song that arguably just admonishes the harms of colonialism (not that, I personally feel, that is a bad thing! It is a worthy topic of discussion, probably more so now than it was then and the band even makes a great argument for that!). “Now we make our promises/We won’t break our word/We’ll sing, sing, sing out our story ’til the message is heard/There’s a whole new generation/Braves who dream of veneration/Who were not wiped out by the 7th Cavalry/You and me, you and me”. With this verse, the band [as Native people] promise that they’ll keep singing and telling their story – the message of the song (which is, arguably, that colonialism harms everyone) – and that they have hope, too, because new generations of Native people will ideally experience the respect they greatly deserve, and they will not be actively colonized and slaughtered en mass. The fact that this verse also ends with the repeated “You and me, you and me” lyric seems to imply that “you and me” are also meant to be part of that “whole new generation … who were not wiped out by the 7th Cavalry,” which begs the question again of who is the audience of this song? With the inclusion of the specified title for Native warriors “who dream of veneration,” I would assume that they are specifically talking to and about Native people here, but is that then the case for the rest of the song? Contextually-speaking, I think it’s safe to say that the band’s #1 intended audience are Native people – an example of “by us, for us” – but as a nationally and, at that point (with the release of the song as a single and its particular success in Europe), internationally-known band, their audience needed to expand in order to impart their message to as many people as possible, including people who need to hear it for different reasons (Native people, for representation and to hear their experiences reflected in a widely-heard song, and non-Native people, for awareness of the harm they may directly or indirectly have a hand in). In other words, yes, this song was written specifically with Native people in mind, but to pigeonhole it as a piece of media that only concerned Native people would grossly neglect all who have ever been and are involved in issues which [negatively] impact and exacerbate “Native issues,” and to impart and exemplify what that means, I include myself as a non-Native person who needs to hear this song and understand its thematic scope so I may apply that understanding to my interactions with my community (people, land, animals, and water). Continuing on with the lyric analysis, I also feel it’s important to point out that with the role-reversal of the lyrics “Now we make our promises/We won’t break our word” – which is, as a means of turning the table, aimed at the government – we, as the audience, of non-Native and Native people alike, are not meant to take that as a threat, and if any member of the audience who is not part of the government feels threatened by such a line, those threatened feelings inherently come from a place of privilege; if one (who was not part of the government) were to hear or read it as a threat, it would be because one’s government which has made promises to one and failed to keep those promises has not been a threat to one [ultimately, one’s way of life]. Finally, I want to point out a difference between the studio version that I listened to and based this article on and the live version that can be heard elsewhere, when the distinctions between them lyrically happen most obviously during this verse: on the studio version, the (heard – not usually written) lyrics remain as “We will sing, sing, sing out our story ’til the message is heard,” but on the live version (and apparently in the single’s written lyrics), Pat Vegas specifically sings “We will sing … out our story ’til the truth is heard,” and I feel these distinctions desperately deserve to be addressed! The difference in the lyric “’til the message is heard” on the studio version, to me, sounds softened; the impact of it is literally softened because – stay with me here – a message can be anything, which is to say that a message does not inherently have to contain or include a fact, or the truth. The live version’s lyric revision of “’til the truth is heard” is much more impactful, because the truth must always contain a fact, as a fact must always define the truth. So, my primary criticism for the whole song (the studio version), I must say, is that they did not initially go full-impact on what they recorded versus what they performed live, and I think it’s a bit silly that they didn’t sing “’til the truth is heard” all along considering the fact that the record company refused to release the song as a single or on the album in the first place and the U.S. blacklisted the song regardless – if the band wanted the full breadth of this song’s impact to be heard and felt and recognized in the first place, since Pat Vegas specifically went out of his way to get this song played anyway, it would have been better to name the point of the song in the studio version all along as he did in the live version anyway.
As for the final chorus, this is what allows the song to follow through with its effective structure, and it is also arguably the most ‘controversial’ part of the song because it appeals to the idea of truth as as a belief now instead of what is factual as the rest of the song accomplishes. Again, it goes: “We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me/We were all wounded at Wounded Knee/You and me/We were all wounded… By Wounded Knee”. In case you forgot the shimmering vocal arrangement, and the all-at-once beautiful and funky instrumental of the chorus, they weren’t about to let you down in the outro…nor would they forget the intention of their message TRUTH! or let you forget it, either. The instrumental of the song fades as the harmonized vocals sing the final “We were all wounded” and poignantly ends with a delicately slow guitar strum as Pat Vegas finishes the line with an important revision: “[We were all wounded]…byWounded Knee,” followed by the characteristic steady drumbeat that basically opened the song as well. This subtle revision does so much for the song, not to mention how it literally ends with this (forcing the listener to remember it most clearly), because it’s as though Pat Vegas asserts his earlier promise to “sing out our story ’til the message is heard” – the message TRUTH here is, finally, that they were not all just factually wounded at Wounded Knee (also known as a historical example of genocidal techniques and persecution justified by colonialism), but that they truthfully suffered because of it – that they still suffer from knowing it happened and, MORE IMPORTANTLY, that conditions (promises! Treaties! Land and water rights and protections! Adhering to the law? How many other ways can I describe it?!) have not really improved since then, seeing as, specifically at the time of the song’s release, history had repeated itself in the name of the Wounded Knee Occupation (or, aptly, Second Wounded Knee).
When considering everything they managed to fit in this song, it’s so admirable to me that they contained so much truth in this fairly short (under 3 minutes and 20 seconds) song. In my estimation, if this song is about anything – history, or Native rights or Native activism, or colonialism, or truth – I think it’s overall best defined as a song about truth. To be purposely subjective here now, that’s what some of the best art is – truth is one of the most qualifying, deserving, worthwhile subjects to explore in art, particularly as an artist, but it can be that way for the audience/consumer, too. Redbone showed us what the art of the truth sounds like.
I also reference “the live version” of the song in my analysis, so I also wanted to share the video of the live version that contains a lyric revision different from the studio version!
During a time when it’s easiest and most acceptable to despair, Pearl Jam have conveniently shared a song that reminds us to “Expect the unexpected.” What’s so refreshing and exciting about that is they’ve done so in a way that speaks to that concept both lyrically and musically. I delighted (finally) in recognizing the musical context which supports this song; understanding that influences including David Bowie, Genesis, and Talking Heads all represented the idea of being radically unexpected, this song musically and lyrically fits that example perfectly. And finally, the song offers us a [en]light[enment] at the end of the tunnel.
“Confusion is,… to commotion What love is,… to our devotion Imperceptibly big, big as the ocean And equally hard to control”
This verse as a whole seems to be about choice: while both commotion and love would ordinarily be things that would demand anyone’s attention, the feeling now is that both are too overwhelming (“Imperceptibly big, big as the ocean”), much less possible to control, so we have to choose which we focus on. The first two lines, “Confusion is to commotion/What love is to our devotion” suggests that commotion (or disruption) requires confusion as much as devotion needs love to operate. The lines “Imperceptibly big, big as the ocean/And equally hard to control” of course further describe the first two lines, though I find that it’s an interesting implication that love and devotion is hard to control (or that it needs to be controlled at all?).
“So save your predictions And burn your assumptions Love is friction Ripe for comfort”
With “So save your predictions/And burn your assumptions,” he’s asking us to suspend our beliefs for the time being. (And that is not a typo: we are not suspending our disbelief because these are things that we have not yet thought about fully and rationally.) In “Love is friction/Ripe for comfort” I consider two scenarios: literally, sex; and metaphorically, I imagine it could mean that love or a relationship needs some friction/discord in order to ultimately be fulfilling and comforting. Beyond the personal relationship aspect of that, though, I can also see how that metaphor would work socially – it suggests that our society can create more loving, comforting communities if we honor and accept our differences (aka the ‘friction’ between each other). It’s worth noting that exact concept is one Audre Lorde shared: “Community must not mean a shedding of our differences, nor the pathetic pretense that these differences do not exist. …[s]urvival is … learning how to take our differences and make them strengths. For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.”
“Endless equations And tugging persuasions Doors open up To interpretation”
This verse seems kind of funny to be…interpreting on its own. The concept of this verse returns us to the first, begging choice to be the defining focus. “Endless equations” and “Doors open up/to interpretation” seem to suggest that there are many different possibilities to consider overall, whereas “and tugging persuasions” is about feeling obligated possibly to the degree of exploitation. Again, however, this verse seems to be rather hopeful; with “endless equations” and even “tugging persuasions,” these lines acknowledge that, good or bad, there are many different ways to solve our [political and social] afflictions, some which feel too overwhelming to consider and others which feel much more urgent. (But can they involve both? is my question, then, without yet considering good vs. bad…)
“Expecting perfection leaves a lot to ignore When the past is the present and the future’s no more When every tomorrow is the same as before”
The chorus, as compared to the inlaid hope in the rest of the song, is a rather bleak return to reality – but at least it balances out the song. Though I’m trying to remain unbiased in my analysis (in vain, because all interpretations are based in perspective which means no interpretation can inherently be unbiased), I have to admit that this verse only reminds me further of America’s political climate and particularly the elections going on and choosing who will represent the nation. “Expecting perfection leaves a lot to ignore” suggests that even if we do expect perfection, even accepting the concept of perfection is still the equivalent of pulling the wool over our eyes because perfection is an impossible, wholly unrealistic expectation for anyone. It’s especially sharp to consider with respect to political leaders because when we (if I may call myself out? particularly liberals) expect “the perfect candidate” to exist, in doing so we would allow ourselves to be blindly devoted to these people when that’s not what we need – we need a leader we can hold accountable, and that’s impossible to do when expecting or believing them to be perfect because then they could hypothetically do no wrong. The line “When the past is the present and the future’s no more” perfectly reflects my despair, thanks Eddie reminds us that history has repeated itself (we did NOT learn from history) and thus it feels impossible to climb out of our collective hole of despair to imagine the future. And if we can’t imagine the future, then of course it’d feel doomed that “every tomorrow is the same as before.”
“The looser things get,… the tighter you become The looser things get,… tighter There’s not one man,… who’s greater than the sum That’s not a negative thought, I’m positive
Falling down,… not staying down Could’ve held me up, rather tear me down Drown in the river”
The first two lines of this verse seems a little odd in conjunction with the rest of it, but I’ll make do to analyze it. Honestly, it reminds me of the fact that Vedder is a parent and I recalled his quote that he shared years ago about fatherhood: “I’m trying to break any chain of negative parenting that I might have survived. I know that she’s going to go through a time where she has to assert her independence. I’m going to have to just encourage that.” The first line of the verse speaks to his idea of encouraging independence – “The looser things get” – while grappling with the natural resistance of wanting control over that – “The tighter you become.” But more generally, “The looser things get tighter” details the tension and inevitable paradox that we all feel in recognizing that change is coming but that we don’t know what that looks like, for better or for worse. The rest of the verse is just as political as the earlier parts of the song – “There’s not one man who’s greater than the sum,” which reminds me of the current American president whose actions AND words narcissistically convey the idea that he’s greater and more important than the rest of the country. The next lyric, when paired with the previous lyric however, makes me think it could also be inspired by Vedder being a frontman – even vocabulary like ‘frontman/frontwoman/frontperson’ suggests that the person out in front is more important than those ‘in the background’ – and he’s admitting his privilege while communicating that his admission isn’t a “negative thought” or something to view as a negative thing (for example, the term “white fragility” exemplifies the antithesis of that). And to that he’s “positive, positive, positive.” 😉 Vedder’s underdog optimism makes a return in the line “Falling down, not staying down,” and his appeal for accountability is loud and clear: “Could’ve held me up, [rather] than tearing me down/Drown in the river”. Again, these lines sound rather political, urging for competent help – “Could’ve held me up” (consider the idiom “to hold someone up” which entails elevating someone to a higher level than they could previously reach!) – rather than repudiating him and purposely letting him drown in the river.
“Numbers keep falling off the calendars floor Stuck in our boxes, windows open no more Collecting up the forget-me-nots Not recalling what they’re for I’m in love with clairvoyants Cause they’re out of this world”
I had the idea that Vedder was accidentally quite prophetic with the first two lines of this verse (about the current pandemic). Yikes. But seriously, “Numbers keep falling off the calendars floor” describes mortality and the idea that time is running out. The next line which is probably my favorite of the whole song, “Stuck in our boxes, windows open no more” relies, in my analysis, on two different idioms: 1) “stuck in our boxes” is like “Don’t box me in/don’t put me in a box,” so the lyric implores us not to judge, label, or limit ourselves to a specific, possibly preconceived, notion; and 2) “windows open no more” reminded me of “The eyes are the windows to the soul,” and if the windows aren’t open then the eyes are closed – to what’s arguably the most important surrounding situation. The next two lyrics depend on irony: “Collecting up the forget-me-nots/Not recalling what they’re for” which makes me think of a more personal reflection of the way Vedder has, as a member of a very successful band with a now-30 year history, inevitably collected many depictions of unforgettable moments and experiences but can now seemingly no longer remember what those depictions were for (also suggesting that what was supposedly unforgettable has become – thanks to mortality – forgettable). And if that was, at all, the inspiration behind those lines, it makes me think Vedder is once again addressing his privilege (to have the opportunity of having so many unforgettable experiences that they have, by now, become forgettable). Metaphorically, and especially politically since this song is so political, those ironic lines could be about the parts of history that we dutifully recorded so as to make sure we didn’t repeat it but whose meticulousness is rendered futile since we’ve repeated our mistakes (which is proven by acknowledging that we have forgotten history because we’ve repeated it). And finally the lines that first reference the song title: “I’m in love with clairvoyants/’cause they’re out of this world” means he’s ‘in love with’ people who keep an open mind and are open to the future and its possibilities (and those possibilities which may just seem “out of this world”), which also implies that he’s equally as accepting of what changes the future may bring as clairvoyants have to be in order to see the future.
“I know the girls wanna dance,… Away their circumstance I know the boys wanna grow,… Their dix and fix and fire things”
This is the verse I’ve been the most reluctant to acknowledge, personally, because I believe gender is fucked and it’s difficult to accept Vedder’s apparent effort here at minimizing gender to stereotypes. But acknowledging that it makes me the most uncomfortable means it’s probably even more important that I analyze it. So: “I know the girls wanna dance/away their circumstance” details [a note of sympathy starting with “I know”] his recognition of girls’ “circumstance” – which likely includes all matters of oppression that they must live with – and their desire to “dance” it away. As for the rest of the verse, “I know the boys wanna grow/their dicks and fix and fire things” is his recognition that the performance of masculinity, especially in American culture, is often reduced to the size of one’s penis, one’s ability to fix things especially in a physical/literal sense, and an obsession with guns and anything with the ability to shoot – or in this case “fire.” In pointing out these expectations, he’s obviously suggesting these things are problematic. For example, I can think of two ways in which girls wanting to “dance away their circumstance” could be problematic: 1) it suggests that girls are expected to overcome the obstacle of their oppression themselves rather than recognizing that female oppression will only disappear when boys and men hold each other accountable for their [starting with] misogynistic and sexist behaviors as well as recognize the ways in which they benefit from maintaining that oppression (and here I think is a good time to mention that the exact same gesture applies to racism and that most discernibly white people have the responsibility to dismantle white supremacy and end racism); and 2) “dancing away their circumstance” implies the use of an adverse coping mechanism – that they feel compelled to dance as a means of distraction from their reality. The rest of the verse merits just as much criticism: first, the obsession with penis size is not only transphobic (boys without penises are boys, FULL STOP) but it’s also a nocuous social construct that suggests not only that a man is more masculine if he has a big dick but also that he’s a better lover (society tells us the first part is true, hence it being a social construct and not fact, whereas the second part is easily disproved by all the men who don’t have big dicks but are nonetheless gettin’ laid!); second, there’s practically a worldwide acceptance of masculinity entailing that men are expected to fix things, but most often that’s in a literal/physical sense and that (per toxic masculinity) it typically ignores any emotional responsibilities, so the criticism there is that fixing things in all senses – literal/physical or emotional – should not burden one part of the human race more than another and that (presumably in line with Vedder’s activist values) it should be a responsibility of EVERYBODY regardless of gender; and third, this exists as commentary on the fact that the toxic traits of masculinity are responsible for nearly all mass shootings worldwide, and that historically wars are started and primarily fought by boys and men (“He’s the universal soldier, and he really is to blame” as Buffy Sainte-Marie sang).
“I know the girls wanna dance,… Clairvoyants in a trance I know the boys wanna grow,… Their dix and fix and fire things”
The primary thing to point out about this verse is how it ends up heteronormalizing the song with the new distinction in the first half: “I know the girls wanna dance/clairvoyants in a trance” implies that girls are clairvoyants (not boys) and earlier in the song he sang “I’m in love with clairvoyants” which clearly announces: hello, I am heterosexual. (So if anyone was wondering…that’s what coming out as straight sounds like! Good for you, Eddie, at least you made that clear.) The line “clairvoyants in a trance” indicates that [girls] are the most poised to accept change, or are enlightened. And in juxtaposition with the altered lyric in the first half of the verse, the repetition of the latter half is reiterating boys’ immaturity and that they are not as accepting of change or as enlightened.
“Stand back when the spirit comes Stand back when the spirit comes Stand back when the spirit comes Stand back!”
Just as the “clairvoyant” in the song represents someone (specifically a girl/woman in this context) with an open mind looking to the future, “the spirit” here represents the future. When Vedder warns to “stand back when the spirit comes,” he’s imploring us to stand back and accept/make way for the future and the changes it will inevitably bring – and I’d wager that this appeal especially comes from a place of privilege. That idea is supported by recognizing that the lyric is “stand back,” and standing back is an action specifically performed by a bystander – someone who observes a scene but does not intervene. On one hand, that could be a troubling ideal to consider because as a privileged person you have a responsibility to use your privilege to make positive change and stand up for what’s right; but on the other hand, assuming you are using your privilege on behalf of positive change and your advocacy has been acknowledged, at some point it is necessary to sit down (to “stand back”) and observe – and truly recognize – the motions for change offered by whoever you’re advocating for. In a simpler way it reminds me of the saying “pass the torch” – address what’s been done previously and what there is still to do, but then stand back and let a different group handle the situation. (Recall Pearl Jam’s most recent single before Gigaton or “Dance of the Clairvoyants,” “Can’t Deny Me.”)
“Took my love,… to have and to hold Held me down in the river Took my love,… to have and to hold Drowning in the river”
Okay, so this part of the outro is very dark, can I say, perhaps unexpectedly so. But, as compared to the rest of the song, I think it’s still doing something politically; it’s about a deep betrayal. Particularly I hear “Took my love, to have and to hold/Held me down in the river” and I ask: who’s holding him down? “Took my love, to have and to hold” is obviously about whoever is [in the next line] holding him down, but if they took his love ‘to have and to hold’ (as the typical marriage vow goes), then the answer would be, in that vein, someone he trusts enough to marry. So politically/metaphorically, I still think that it’s about the government. As citizens, we’re supposed to trust our government and representatives to take care of us and believe they have our best interests at heart, but when we (America) have an administration like our current ‘leaders’ and think about how consistently they’ve failed us and our fellow human beings, the metaphor is obvious. However, there also seems to be a true story element to this, as it reminded me of the news story from 2019 of the Salvadoran migrant father and daughter who drowned in a river outside the U.S. border. Furthermore, it’s an interesting show of empathy that Vedder would lyrically take on that experience himself (“took my love … held me down in the river”) which, in comparison with the reference, is quite unnerving knowing he has daughters as well. While I’m dubious about that sort of undertaking (not that he hasn’t been critiqued for that sort of action in his songs in the past), it still seems to act as a gesture of pathos which would put him in someone else’s shoes and is a call to action for all of us to do the same.
In honor of Black History Month, acknowledging the area of music I most like to listen to and learn about, I collaborated with a friend to curate a playlist made up of music by the Black women (as frontpeople, musicians, and songwriters) of classic rock1. It is very much meant to represent the history of Black women in rock, as it is organized in chronological order by the dates that singles or albums were released. Do understand that this is an inexhaustible list – no artists or bands within the parameters of the playlist were left off intentionally, and if you alert me to any who I forgot or if I learn of more artists/bands on my own, they will be added in time!
Which leads me to one other note I must make: while this playlist was curated in honor of Black History Month, it’s important that these artists/bands AND contemporary Black artists/bands ALL be appreciated and recognized for their talent and contributions to music throughout the entire year! (Which is also why I think it would be appropriate to continue adding to the playlist through the year – but that’s just my thinking.)
If you check out this playlist – which I sincerely hope you will – you may think it’s long, or depending on who you are you might think it’s too short. (I think it’s too short.) If you believe the latter, then don’t fear – the playlist is actually incomplete from how I originally compiled it because a few artists could not be found on Spotify. Luckily, I’ve added the missing artists to a Youtube playlist2, so you can either rediscover some artists/bands you once heard and forgot that you enjoyed, or you’ll get the chance to learn of some new-to-you artists and bands! Either way, I hope you’ll find these playlists enjoyable, because I certainly do.
This was the second year in a row that I headed to The Showbox on New Year’s Eve to see Thunderpussy and their influential multi-band lineups, but what made it better this year was that I got to bring along one of my best friends. While I won’t EVER knock going to concerts alone (which is something I did for the first time last year and have continued to do several times), I do understand why going with friends – especially very good ones – is such a special experience. Plus, my friend helped me remember to breathe when we walked into the area designated for the VIP party and I found myself just feet away from four musical goddesses.
Oh yes, there was a VIP party! From my understanding (perhaps assumption), it was the first one Thunderpussy had hosted for fans, and I saw it as another step toward their increasing popularity and success. But then again, it wasn’t hard to get into – I hastened to download their new app as soon as I found out about it and became a member of ‘Club Pussy’ (I’m only a free member, but hopefully not for long!), and a few days before the show Molly Sides posted that there were still spots open for the VIP party and to just inform them of one’s name. I told them my name and my friend’s (since I knew he’d be coming with me to the show) and they confirmed our access to the party. I appreciated how simple it was, though I doubt it’ll be that easy in the future. But I do love them for it!
So, as soon as my friend and I arrived at the venue (a little bit late, but amazingly I wasn’t so anxious about it – ANOTHER PLUS FOR HAVING A FRIEND THERE!) and checked in for the party, we walked through to the allocated area and my heart and social anxiety remembered as a delayed reaction that four members of my current favorite band were here and I could TALK TO THEM. I noticed Molly Sides first, dressed in an elegant furry-looking black-and-white checked dress and chatting with people, and I grabbed my friend’s arm and whisper-squeaked out, “Oh god, I’M FORGETTING HOW TO BREATHE!” And less than a minute after I said it and we fellow introverts inched close to a corner of the bar/socializing area, another possible introvert with long brown hair approached us who I recognized as Thunderpussy’s new drummer, who I had yet to see them live with. Lindsey Elias, who acted nearly as awkward as I felt (which actually helped put me at ease, don’t get me wrong), asked us how many shows we’d been to and if we’d seen the band during any of their traditional NYE shows at The Showbox. Though I’d wanted to say something to her about how much I was looking forward to seeing her with them, I couldn’t think of any way to encourage her without making it sound like I was skeptical (and because I’m still such a huge fan of Thunderpussy-established drummer Ruby Dunphy), so unfortunately I wasn’t able to reassure her as a new band member which I quickly felt she might’ve appreciated when she first approached us. Still, I appreciated that she came up to us, and she was very nice!
As my heart hummed with happiness at the knowledge that I’d now met one member of Thunderpussy, my mind was screaming about the fact that guitarist Whitney Petty and bassist Leah Julius were just a little ways away, and if my friend and I removed ourselves from our introvert corner and looked more approachable (oops – my shyness fault), we could probably talk to them. I was especially excited (and dying) to meet and talk with Julius who, just by observed social media presence, I felt a kinship with unlike any of the other members. Once my friend and I inched our way over to a table where snack foods were set out and we waited until her attention was no longer distracted by anyone else, we finally got our chance to talk to her. It amazed me (and flattered me, and I was screaming on the inside like you would not believe) that the first thing she said to me was, “You look familiar, I feel like I’ve seen you before.” And she probably had considering I stood at her feet in March in my current town of residence, and my friend and I had been very close to the stage at Seattle Pride Fest when they played there in June. So I explained that she might have, because this was my fourth time seeing them. And then my friend and I explained where we’d come from to see this show, and she related about the show in March – which I told her I was at and how much I appreciated that they played there since it’s where I live. (I also told her shamelessly that it was my favorite concert I’d ever been to, which was true and might actually still be true, lineup and performance-quality considered.) We chatted for a little bit longer, but ultimately her attention was pulled away by another fan who wanted their photograph of the band signed, so my friend and I inched away again and caught sight of guitarist Whitney Petty.
What still surprises me about meeting Whitney Petty is that the first thing she did when she saw me was say “Come on, get in here,” and motioned for me to hug her. All she did was notice me and requested that I hug her. While I’d been privy before to the generosity/sympathy of musicians who’ve hugged me when they noticed how nervous yet appreciative of their music I am (*cough* Ann and Nancy Wilson *cough*), for some reason I had not at all expected Petty to react to me on-sight like that. But I appreciated it, and hugged her, and then she asked us our names. (LOL) I made sure to quote her about how rock n’ roll is not dead (although I didn’t add, and maybe should have, that I personally think that’s thanks to Thunderpussy and some of my other favorite bands of all women) and we three shared our enthusiasm about that night’s show that was then barely an hour away from starting. My friend also got two pictures of me with her which I am still floating (glowing!!!!) about:
Ah yes, the typical excited guitarist face. And me who will never stop being a wholesome geek, apparently.
Whitney Petty and me! ISN’T SHE SO SWEET. AND I’M SO EXCITED.
The doors opened soon after we met Petty, so my friend and I sadly had to concede that we would not get to meet Molly Sides. Still, I was so grateful that I even got to meet three out of four of them that it was better than I could’ve imagined.
A little bit before the show started (luckily enough – probably mostly having to do with the fact that my friend was with me so I had someone to chat with – the time between the doors opening and the show starting seemed to pass very quickly), I was fortunate [and forward] enough to catch Leah Julius as she was walking across the GA floor, so I asked her if it was okay if I got a picture with her, and she very graciously (in her easygoing way that I totally relate to) obliged as my friend got one of us:
Me with Leah Julius! P.S. I fucking love her coat.
The fact that I had most recently gotten a photo with Julius was not my justification for choosing to face and stand by her side of the stage – actually, it was because I wanted to change where I stood from last year (which had been facing Petty’s side of the stage)! Fortunately, my friend and I staked out our place near the stage on the right side and stayed there for the entire concert period.
A couple months before the concert, I’d looked up the bands playing because I wanted to be prepared unlike last year, but I discovered that I couldn’t find much info about or music by Trash Fire, so I pretty much had no idea what to expect besides what I could assume from their band name (LOL). So when they came on and started playing, I immediately said to my friend: “Oh, okay, so they’re a punk band.” The main thing I have to say about them is that I’ve heard a lot of local punk and hardcore-type bands (local to my city community, at least) and a lot of them have pretty much sounded the same. And Trash Fire was no different. Which is to say I was not impressed or particularly excited by their music, either musically or lyrically. But one thing to note: I did appreciate one song’s lyrics about “You can love who you want/Fuck who you want,” (ignoring the fact that the next lyric was ironically “DIE“), but at the same time I can’t appreciate a song that says “Fuck who you want” in such a brazen manner without also clarifying “But get consent.” I told my friend this and he said, “Well, I think it’s assumed…” which I understood, but my point still remains that the message “Fuck who you want” isn’t significant enough without clarifying that you shouldn’t just fuck who you want without getting consent (because then that’s not fucking – that’s rape. Full stop! No motherfucking arguments allowed! And yes, I will be punk about it if you won’t!). It was fun to see Whitney Petty and Molly Sides come out in the audience to dance and watch Trash Fire, though – it made it even more clear to me how dedicated they are to supporting other artists, which is [subjectively?] what GREAT artists do.
As I’d mentioned, I’d listened to one or two songs by Constant Lovers, so I was prepared to at least be interested in their music, and my interest turned out to be pretty legit! Musically, I enjoyed their set, although it seemed a little pretentious that the lead vocalist used a couple of drums, a guitar, and a saxophone at least once during their set, and I say that because I didn’t think it was clear that he was actually good at playing all three instruments or at least passionate about each instrument. Don’t get me wrong – I understand DIY approaches to music, but usually passion makes up for lack of real skill, and unfortunately it felt more like ‘Look at all the instruments I can play like a real multi-instrumentalist’ instead of ‘I’m using all of these instruments to make the music better.’ Also, I could not understand even two words that the lead vocalist sang (screamed? Sometimes screamed. I always know when guys are screaming because I hate music where guys are screaming) let alone full sentences or lyrics, so that was also a let-down in finding out how much I could like their music; I’m not sure if that was a sound/technical issue, though, or if the vocalist really just was not enunciating at all. The band as a whole was good, though, and I liked that their music did seem to be doing something different and interesting which is basically what I look for in music now.
After Constant Lovers’ set was over, a person in the audience who later introduced herself as Amy asked me if I was excited to see Bear Axe and I told her I was, and she admitted “75% of why I’m here is Shaina Shepherd” which surprised me a bit because 85% of why I was there was for Thunderpussy. I thought it exemplified why actually talking to people at concerts could turn out so interesting, especially at multi-band-lineup shows (which is mostly a reminder to myself as a shy introvert to try harder!). So I explained to her that I’d seen Shepherd perform as a guest vocalist with The Black Tones and Thunderpussy at last year’s New Year’s Eve show, and since then I’d listened to Bear Axe and enjoyed their music a bit so I was excited to actually see Bear Axe. Luckily, my excitement was justified!
I was quite amused to realize that Bear Axe were still soundchecking in front of everyone by covering the song “I Want Candy” – it was funny because we all thought they were starting their set, but they were still soundchecking! The experiment turned out fruitful, though, because I thought their set was nearly flawless sound-quality-and-technically-wise.
Apparently prior to the show I hadn’t listened to their music enough to remember it all, but I did remember the song “Uber” (mostly because I wasn’t a fan of it, heh) and recognized it when Shepherd began singing it. Though I wasn’t otherwise able to remember or properly identify what songs they played, I want to stress how much fucking FUN their performance was from start to finish. Even songs whose studio versions that I vaguely remembered and knew that I hadn’t been a fan of culminated into an AMAZINGLY vibrant, kick-ass performance. Honestly, I was rocking out and enjoying myself and the music so much that I wondered afterward if I had even watched half of their set (because my eyes were closed and I was feeling it – YOU KNOW!).
By the time their set was almost over, I both didn’t want it to end and I was still excited to see Thunderpussy, which just ended up as a shit-ton of excitement and I couldn’t stop smiling. I also remembered seeing a post on Instagram from Shepherd a little while before the concert about Heather Thomas guesting on drums, so I wasn’t surprised but I was excited when she came on for the penultimate song of their set, along with hip-hop artist Terry Monstrosity. And let me say that while I was not expecting a hip-hop collaboration during Bear Axe’s set, I was not at all disappointed and I enjoyed the music quite a bit!
The highlight of their set for me, though, was the their last song when Shepherd brought on her friend and fellow artist TeZATalks and also introduced guitarist Kathy Moore (who audience member Amy had told me about before their set which I’m still super grateful for!), and they began to cover the Beatles’ “Blackbird.” I can’t lie – it was so beautiful that I started crying as soon as they started singing. I also made a mental note to remember TeZATalks because she and Shepherd really did the song and its spirit justice. But I was not expecting that immediately after they finished the Beatles’ cover, they started in on a song I didn’t recognize but finally, eventually realized was a cover of Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun.” (I’ve tried listening to Soundgarden – operative word there being “tried.” I still can’t. Sorry!) Despite my embarrassment of not knowing the song, it was an awesome experience to hear and see the band perform it and to hear the crowd throughout the room singing along. After all, an ideal concert will always have some audience participation, so that was TRULY ideal and amazing to witness.
Overall, Bear Axe were simply an incredible collection of musicians, and it was THE BEST THING to see them all enjoying themselves on stage – after all, that’s half the reason people go to see live music. Shaina Shepherd totally blew me away with how exciting she was as a frontperson and what an AMAZING vocalist she was, not to mention how utterly effortless she made it look. Let me say: the parts of their set that I do remember watching, I was thinking how happy I felt to get to experience this band’s awesomeness, and that was considering that I was still mostly there and excited to see Thunderpussy. But Bear Axe’s effort on stage honestly made me forget that sometimes, hence my simply-felt happiness when I watched them.
Finally, when Thunderpussy graced the stage at 15 minutes to the New Year countdown, I was transfixed (though had grown accustomed to this feature) by the dancers who slunk onstage after Whitney Petty. I assumed that Molly Sides was among the dancers, but because I was not facing the proper side of the stage, I missed when she was revealed amongst them except when raised screams went out through the crowd. Tantalizingly slowly, the band seemed to break into a new song – very atmospheric and interesting – that I hadn’t heard before, but it soon enough morphed into “Velvet Noose” which sounded amazing as ever as one of my favorite Thunderpussy songs. Immediately after the end of the song, they began the countdown to the new year which started with oodles of confetti, sharing some champagne with each other and a few lucky audience members, and an overall lovely camaraderie between the whole band on stage. After a few joyful minutes of celebration, as Lindsey Elias and Leah Julius began to head back to pick up their instruments (and smoke a little, which amused me!), Sides took that time to explain the symbolism of their costumes and the theme of the show (‘The Neon Glow of Electric Sax’); Sides gave a shoutout to Thunderpussy’s costume designer Pakio Galore for making their highlighter-bright, glow-in-the-dark outfits for the night, and she explained: ‘We all have a brightness within us, and we should all use it to carry us through this new decade.’ It was a coincidence that I felt like I was glowing on the inside, myself, after having met, talked a bit with, and hugged three of the four members of Thunderpussy prior to the show. Personally, I’ve been reminded by many people throughout my short life that there’s a guiding light within me that I must always remember to use, but I appreciated so much that Thunderpussy presented that idea for everyone to consider, verbally and visually.
Just like last year, Sides also inspired us to turn to the people around us and introduce ourselves, which is how I officially learned fan Amy’s name, along with a woman named Hannah in front of me who complimented me on the Totoro sweater I was wearing, and I got an enthusiastic hug from a young woman beside me who didn’t end up introducing herself (but I failed to introduce myself as well – oops). Sides’ demonstration gave me a rush of affection for her and the rest of the band and their motivation to reinforce this lovely concept of human connection. And then they kicked into “Thunderpussy” – because what other fucking song deserves to be the first one to initiate the new year?
After their unsurprisingly badass performance of their self-titled song, they played a new song I hadn’t heard before. It was infectious to jam out to, of course, and I recall the lyrics mentioned something about “put your hands on me” which seemed in line for a Thunderpussy song (sincerely, not sarcastically). They next went into “Never Know” which I was excited for beyond measure because I had ALREADY predicted that this song would (should) become one of their new live staples, and they only proved to me why.
Then, to my surprise (as I’d wondered aloud to my friend before their set what songs they would cover), they started out slowly with the guitar riff to Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion” as Molly chatted with the crowd. Of course the cover was badass, because how could Thunderpussy cover Aerosmith and have it NOT be badass? Rhetorical question.
An interesting move to me, they next played “The Cloud” which Sides endearingly dedicated to the crowd and which caused me to PROMPTLY dissolve into tears as the song began. As I told the band on Twitter, I am physically incapable of resisting breaking down into sobs whenever they play that song, because the opening lines of it just touch my soul in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever get over. So of course I continued to cry throughout the entire song while my friend nudged me a couple of times in solidarity which I understood because what the fuck else are you supposed to do when your friend dissolves into tears on cue with the music at a rock concert? And it’s funny to know it truly is that song that has such a powerful effect on me, because I’m able to stop crying by the end of it almost as immediately.
It was lucky I stopped crying so quickly, though, because their next song was another new one, and a hard-rocker. Memorably, it seemed to be about fire-breathing and rock n’ roll (although I don’t remember if Sides sang specifically about a fire-breathing dragon or if she was making a metaphor about fire-breathing rock n’ roll?). The song seemed fitting though, as I’d talked to Whitney Petty earlier about how rock n’ roll was alive and well, which is to say that if rock n’ roll breathes fire at all (and to say that it still does), it’s coming from the fire of Thunderpussy. (…irony intended.)
Apparently this setlist bookended their new fire-breathing hard rock song with their softer tunes, as the next song they played was “On the Line.” In preparation for it, Petty wielded an acoustic guitar and Elias and Julius left the stage, so “On the Line” was an extremely intimate performance between Petty’s guitar and Sides’ beautiful siren-esque voice as they played the exquisite love song. Plus it became so quiet during their performance (to hear the guitar, I’d wager, and because it was clearly a vulnerable performance) that I was able to actually understand pretty much all of the lyrics, which gave me an even deeper appreciation for the song.
But the band were not finished surprising me, because after “On the Line,” once Elias and Julius and their dancers returned to the stage, they started playing A MEDLEY of THEIR OWN SONGS. Which is to say they began with the beginning of “Speed Queen,” roared into “Fever,” and finished off with the swelling “Torpedo Love,” playing a third or so of each song until “Torpedo Love” which they played the most of. Unfortunately – though it still ended up sounding kind of cool – Petty’s guitar (a Gibson SG which I hadn’t seen her play before! New guitar, I guess?) was experiencing some technical difficulties, so they played the entire bit of “Speed Queen” with only the drums marking the beat, the bass carrying the melody, and Sides singing as though nothing was wrong, which was a formidable feat as far as I was concerned. Luckily Petty’s guitar started working again by “Fever” and we were treated properly to their medley. I’m still shocked by their decision to do that – although I understood it was to save time, I usually think of medleys played as covers and not purposefully by the original band. But it was cool, and I only hope that the next time I see them there won’t be any technical difficulties and we’ll get to enjoy the badassery that is “Speed Queen” (and hopefully in its entirety?). “Torpedo Love” was also a memorable performance because they started it not at the gentle and steady beginning, but toward the middle, essentially unleashing its most rock n’ roll energy to conclude their medley.
Finally they played “Powerhouse,” which I had been DYING to hear as played with Elias on drums (rather than Chad Smith on the studio version). As I mentioned earlier about Bear Axe’s set, the ideal concert will always have some audience participation, so Sides instructed each half of the room to vary the “yeah”s and clapping which open the song (and then, as a soprano, I found myself actually wishing I’d faced Petty’s side of the stage!), and then faded as the song officially began, though started up again in the right place with Sides’ encouragement. Now I get to acknowledge that I TRULY enjoyed this version of “Powerhouse” better than the studio version, thanks to drummer Elias fitting in as I’d hoped with Thunderpussy’s groove (you can’t just replace drummers with any drummer, no matter how good and well-acclaimed/popular they are!). And I should probably say this now, too – I was very proud of how well Elias played with Thunderpussy, and if there was any doubt in my mind before that she fits with them, there is absolutely NONE now. Thunderpussy has gained yet another drum goddess, and that very much pleases me.
Interestingly, they rounded out their set with two new songs that I hadn’t heard before; truthfully, I don’t much remember them, but I enjoyed them due to the sheer joyful energy from the band and the audience. In hindsight, it is kind of funny to me, though, noticing when bands play new songs because there is little crowd participation (such as whoops and whistles and screams) – just purely listening, soaking in the new information of music and lyrics (if applicable). I said it last year, and I’ll say it again this year – that is the joy of loving and becoming a fan of a new[er] band.
When they walked off stage before 1:30am (the time my friend and I knew they were supposed to finish, as we’d seen the schedule posted at the VIP party), my friend apparently wondered if they’d come back at all, which I understood because last year I’d screamed a lot in hopes that they would come back for the encore. This year, though, I knew better, so I tried to save my voice until they came back on – which they did, of course. Petty and Julius threw remaining glow sticks, which had been sitting on stage since before Thunderpussy came on, into the crowd (I’d snatched an orange one during the VIP party and hooked it around my wrist, which you can see in the photo of me with Julius) before they launched into “Trust a Man,” which I’d wondered when they would play! Personally, I liked the symbolism of playing “Trust a Man” as the intro song to their encore. I also remembered that they’d play it at the Seattle Pride Fest show (before it was released on their EP Milk It, even!), and though I enjoyed it more this time because I knew the lyrics and I’ve listened to the studio version A LOT since Milk It came out, I think it has a little ways to go to capture its proper mood – part of me thinks it’s because it lacks the acoustic guitar element which essentially gives it its western-reminiscent sound, but I want to give them more credit considering they only have one guitarist who can only play one guitar at a time. (But a note to Thunderpussy: know that does not mean you have to become like my reigning favorite band Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, either by adding another slightly unnecessary band member or requiring Molly to play the guitar. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT!) So mostly, I just think it’s a mood thing. Maybe slotting it elsewhere in the set, and not as part of the encore, would help it…maybe playing it alongside the “Firebreather” song, even? Here’s my secret dream/wish: to create a setlist for Thunderpussy.
As for another parallel to last year’s show, they played a cover as the final song of their encore, but this cover REALLY surprised me – Pat Benatar’s “We Belong”! When they started playing it, along with guest guitarist Kathy Moore, somehow I didn’t realize how much of the song’s lyrics I actually remembered until I was singing along basically word-for-word with Sides. But what an amazing experience! I loved how Sides introduced it, too, stressing the importance of connection and that we belong together as people, helping each other out. And though you’d think it’s such a short song and that it couldn’t have been a very long encore if they’d only played those two songs…well, the end of “We Belong” quickly turned into a literal party onstage as Thunderpussy were joined by some of Bear Axe and their guests, the lead vocalist of Constant Lovers, AND a surprise visit from The Black Tones’ Eva Walker! At one point it felt kind of funny to me that I was watching it, though there was plenty of good music happening at the same time, because it started to feel like I was literally watching a party rather than being part of it. But ah, I’m guessing that’s what happens at jam parties. At least I know what one looks like now? In all seriousness, it was fun. And it was charming to be reminded that “We can make each other happy” – as sung by pretty much all of the vocalists at some point during the jam.
So that was definitely one of the best nights of my life – meeting three members of Thunderpussy, watching Bear Axe perform, feeling like Thunderpussy proved yet again why they’re my current favorite band, AND getting to experience all of those things with one of my best friends. How could it have been better? To reinforce the future over the past, that’s rhetorical. As always, I’m stoked for the next opportunity I’ll get to see Thunderpussy, plus I’m officially excited to see Bear Axe again, too. The new decade has been ushered in, and I am fucking READY FOR IT. (The power of Thunderpussy compels me!!)
Right now, my-life-being-inextricably-linked-to-capitalism-and-valued-primarily-by-how-much-money-I-have-and-am-worth is hurting a lot right now, so I’m turning to my main source of comfort and self-care: music.
I’ve theorized a few times now about what I think Thunderpussy’s song “Velvet Noose” is about; I even started a piece of art inspired by the song (but I haven’t finished it so you might never see it). My understanding and analysis of it still changes sometimes, but right now while my vision is a whole lot of white (colorless, nothing) and red, I have a new idea about what it truly symbolizes.
To begin, I believe the title image of the “velvet noose” is a symbol of privilege. Not only that, but the verses primarily seem to come from the perspective of someone without privilege or with lesser privilege, so that the purpose of the song is to target privilege and reject it. The first verse easily details that:
“Sense of secure, security You do what you’re told Don’t care to leave Confined by thought Brainwashed at night Forget that you were born with any given rights Care to see with clarity Get up and off your lap of luxury”
For some reason, I particularly latched on to privilege as the song’s main symbol with (besides the obvious first line “Sense of secure, security”) the line “Forget that you were born with any given rights.” I figure that it takes a certain amount of privilege to literally forget that you were born with rights, whereas people who are much less privileged feel forced to remember and know (in the case of Black people and people of color, sometimes even since they’re children) their rights in order to protect themselves, as a means of self-preservation. I also think of it in the context of people who have a significant amount of privilege and power that they could easily extend to those less fortunate, but who seem to forget that they either have the rights to do so, or forget that they’re at least rightfully allowed to fight to even the playing field in the first place, so to speak.
While I see lines like “Brainwashed at night” concerning performers (those who put on live shows which traditionally happen at night), which makes sense since Thunderpussy are a band of musicians, the rest of the first verse isn’t as specific and I think it intends to speak to pretty much anyone in a position of privilege that allows them to, as per the example I used before, forget that they were born with rights (because they’re at a certain level above needing to know or care about their rights). Of course, if you possess a certain amount of privilege where you can forget your rights, you might also feel that you’re entitled enough not to care about that inherent privilege, much less acknowledging that there are those who are less fortunate and privileged than you – I suggest this in relation to the line “Don’t care to leave,” and more subtly along with the next, “Confined by thought.”
The rest of the verse, “Care to see with clarity/Get up and off your lap of luxury” is, in contrast to the earlier lines in the verse’s tone, an example of advocacy in a less judgmental manner (one might argue). I think it’s particularly smart to set up the verse this way, though, because it leaves the most empathy-urgent message for memorable last: PLEASE CARE, and care about seeing with clarity rather than, for example, basing your opinions and beliefs on muddled secondhand accounts or – timely – fake news. (Then with a little more prodding: “Get up and off your lap of luxury”!)
Now, what makes this song so interesting and different to me is that the chorus clearly switches perspectives – while the verses seem to be relayed from the perspective of the lesser/non-privileged, the chorus is sung by the privileged, but by one who legitimately (finally?) does care about rejecting that status. “Can you hear me breathing while you watch me swinging/From that velvet noose?” is an attempt (admirably, I think) to humanize the experience of privilege. That is not to say the lines accept the experience, but I think so often, us normal/common folk (with varying degrees of privilege, though right now I’m mostly referring to those without a lofty sense of privilege) feel as though people who, say, have a LOT of privilege – those who are visible or are publicly powerful (celebrity), those with seemingly endless provisions of money, those with political and social power – are untouchable, perhaps subconsciously invincible or simply don’t seem as “normal” as the rest of us. But the chorus, I think, attempts to act as a reminder (which I confess even I could use regarding artists and bands who I love, even like Thunderpussy) that behind that position of privilege, there’s still a human being. …Pretty powerful, don’t you think? Even if you’re inclined to renounce them for their privilege (which is also fine, I’d just like to add), it still acts as a reminder at least that they’re human, and if I’m being idealistic, that would imply that they’re capable of change and empathy. Which the world could always use more of.
As for the second verse, it seems to continue the same point of view as the first verse, acting as someone from less(er) privilege detailing the way privilege is changing those with privilege (and this change not actually being a good thing):
“Sense of stable, stability Keeps you locked down, complacency What if there’s more To what life holds Move on, forget the things that you were oversold”
The change in tone from the very last lines in the first verse seems to easily extend to the second verse – the urgency is much more empathetic, warning them of being “locked down” and becoming complacent, all the way to (such a human thing), “What if there’s more/To what life holds?”
What I originally thought this song was about was calling attention to the differences between wants and needs…and since that is something privilege suggests, it seems like my first idea was originally on the right track [to become this one, at least]. But I thought of it in much more material terms, basing my theory around capitalism and our society’s dependence on it and how that structure is failing us as humans. That’s what the suggestion, “Move on, forget the things that you were oversold” made me think of, with the literal interpretation of being “oversold” these things. Now, I think of it again from the perspective of the songwriters who were surely realizing, ‘For our sake, we need to move on and forget all the things that come with success that we were obviously oversold.’ But moving on from that idea can’t be that easy, realistically, so I feel that transitioning from a line like that straight into the chorus actually works to subtly suggest a resolution; the way I analyzed the chorus previously is the resolution, and to move on means to remember humanity separate from the privilege that does divide us. And I do want to emphasize that privilege divides us in spite of our humanity which unites us because perspective is everything – the thing to learn and consider on a daily basis is how to listen to perspectives outside of our own (to move beyond privilege) and to legitimize all of those experiences within society (to thoughtfully utilize privilege).
But I won’t forget the additional lines of the chorus, which remind me of the last time I saw Thunderpussy live in June when lead vocalist Molly Sides proclaimed, “Most of our songs are love songs” – “Put your arms around me, so I can feel you drown me/Cut me loose/Cut me loose/Cut me loose…” actually gives me some love song vibes, which I think is fascinating considering what I’ve analyzed the song’s intent to be. In a literal sense, I think it continues the humanizing theme of the rest of the chorus; the privileged speaker asks to be reminded of their humanity and ‘cut them loose’ from the stifling concept of newfound success and privilege. But for a love song metaphor, it can also be heard as a plea to be drowned in [love/what makes us human] and to be cut loose from anything that would undermine that feeling/ability. In other words, remember whose song this is: it’s Thunderpussy’s.
Often while writing these song analyses, I’ll discover ideas I hadn’t thought of before, and for this song, the experience was no different. Everything I determined in my analysis of the song simply reinforces, to me, how important it is – and by that, of course, I do mean its message. But don’t get it twisted; this music by these women matters as equally as the message they leave us with, because their mere existences on stage, and in the studio, working as a band is as crucial now as we head into 2020 as it was in the 1950s when women first began to form rock n’ roll bands with each other. Most people don’t know that last part (and surely there’s a privilege to nothaving to know that and justify the way you make and create music and what it says now, right?), but Thunderpussy shows us that there’s a value to knowing.
So here’s a band I haven’t yet had the chance to talk about much, which seems like a crime because they’re easily one of the greatest GEMS of the ’80s. (And considering I’m bringing up the ’80s, even though, uh, I love ’80s music…and I’m calling them a gem…just give them a chance if you don’t already know of them. Trust me.)
Romeo Void’s music makes me ecstatically happy. What doesn’t make me happy is realizing how little their music is known or acknowledged, especially today. I don’t expect them to be considered on the level of ’80s pop greats, but in terms of new wave and post-punk bands, they have all the distinctiveness of being remembered alongside bands like The Pretenders, Talking Heads, and Siouxsie and the Banshees.
What’s so inspiring and amazing to me in spite of the band’s short-lived career is how unapologetic lead vocalist Debora Iyall was as a singer, songwriter, and frontperson. (Not to leave out or ignore the equally great musicianship of the band: guitarist Peter Woods, bassist Frank Zincavage, saxophonist Benjamin Bossi, original drummer Jay Derah and proceeding drummers John Haines and Larry Carter.) Iyall should undoubtedly be one of the most recognized Native people in pop/rock music, especially in regard to her nonconformist attitude and commitment to the DIY spirit of punk rock. Her resolve to form the band, and as the frontperson, should also be more acclaimed as a woman and as a fat woman, proving that music (and most importantly, rock music and music maintaining punk ethos) could be wielded despite race, gender, and bodily appearance/ability, and one could in fact prosper by drawing strength and creativity from these facets. You might think I’m being optimistic when I suggest one can ‘prosper’ from drawing on those facets – please be aware that I do not necessarily mean in mainstream, capitalism-conforming ways. 😉 If you’ve read my blog(s) before, you should know I believe in success beyond societal and capitalistic definitions.
Everything that categorizes rock music as great rock music is easily found in Romeo Void’s music, from the band’s growth sonically and creatively to Iyall’s command of it as their frontperson. But I know it’s a lot to ask for you to just believe me without hearing them (if you haven’t already), so let’s consider some of their greatest gems in my opinion.
Since I like to go chronologically, It’s a Condition‘s first single “White Sweater” is an excellent example of their burgeoning influence, the way it builds and how the story it tells is one that, by then, had not really been explored in music, especially from the perspective of a frontwoman. Not to mention that musically, the tension created by the bass line (by the way, Romeo Void has some of the best bass lines, I think), accented by the guitar and quick-paced beats, and then released by Iyall’s sustained wail wholly supports the theme of the song and makes it notable. Also, the fact that the song speeds up toward the end instead of choosing the easy pop-route and changing keys is another noteworthy method that points toward the band’s punk-focused influences over just pop or rock. And another thing: this was just the beginning of Romeo Void and the evolution of Iyall’s songwriting style (not to mention artistic style, too: Iyall is responsible for the album’s cover art). They set the stage for themselves with a song like this, damn what everybody else was doing. The clear dance element in their music and the addition of a saxophone is also what sets them apart from new wave, punk, and rock bands during that time, especially in the United States. Romeo Void were indie by those standards, but they knew what they were doing.
Now the song that anyone who at least knows of Romeo Void would know – the bold declaration that “I might like you better if we slept together/but there’s something in your eyes that says maybe…/that’s never/never say never.” As I alluded to, Iyall had no qualms singing about controversial topics like sexuality, in this instance. But as it originated from a fat Native woman, you pretty much can’t get more punk rock than that; leave it to a Native woman to embody the genuine spirit of punk rock by shamelessly telling her story and subsequently epitomizing important ideas like feminism and decolonization during a period when such an act was rare to find or hear in music. However, truth be told, I’m not the biggest fan of this song. While I’m intrigued by the story it tells, the music isn’t quite my taste as far as Romeo Void’s music goes. But I must acknowledge that it matters as a piece of music and as a part of their discography, and that I cannot talk about them as a band without showcasing it. By the way, the video is kind of cheesy but I love the studio scenes where the band’s performing – it’s so cute. Don’t judge me for saying that.
Finally, this song is, to me, the nitty-gritty of what made Romeo Void great. Lyrically, it follows the evolving themes of Iyall’s songwriting style, which I would define as exposing double standards and, at the same time, reinforcing her humanity on behalf of herself and underrepresented groups. (I can’t be sure she would agree with my estimation especially if she never took herself that seriously! Oops, but that’s how I see and understand the themes of her writing – telling the truth because it’s her truth, as well as acknowledging countless others’ truths which are often inaccurately represented.) At the same time, I think you could also hear the band imploding in this track – seeing as this was on the last album they released, the tension musically and lyrically seems obvious. But just look at The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac – tension like that is what made great music, historically. Although it does seem like the album might’ve benefited from that considering it reached #68 on The Billboard 200 chart, and the single “A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)” peaked at #35 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart – so I can’t complain too much about that. While “A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)” is definitely my favorite track on the album, “Your Life is a Lie” stands out to me as an altogether interesting song in a way that makes me think it could’ve been skipped over in consideration of the album; in other words, it’s a real gem.
Now, I know that I heaped tons of accolades onto lead vocalist and songwriter Debora Iyall (she is amazing, though, so sorry not sorry), but I mean to say that the band as a unit is equally as important and part of the appeal, to me. While they had a couple lineup changes when they were first together and releasing albums, they still managed to sound cohesive throughout their discography which makes their music so worthwhile. While I can’t ignore that it must’ve helped to have such an uncompromising, visionary frontperson as Iyall, the band’s instrumental tracks like their cover of “Apache” and their song “Going to Neon” showcase their creativity and investment into coalescing as a group – perhaps besides co-founder Frank Zincavage’s distinguishable bass lines which obviously carry much of their music, there seems to be little perceptive ego present. (Besides, egotistical bassists seem pretty rare, so I don’t see a big downside to that for them, anyway.) Maybe it’s my opinion that less ego musically results in a better, more consolidated sound, but honestly, what music is really worthwhile that chiefly pays tribute to one or two instrumentalists and sidelines the rest? You know? Maybe it works for one-person bands or duos, but especially for bands of four members or more…that just wouldn’t seem right. So if that were the case, then by definition, it shouldn’t be “a band.” Perhaps it would work all right for studio musicians, though. But as far as my ears can tell, Romeo Void fit the description of “a band,” and that’s an important element to acknowledge.
I could probably go on and on about Romeo Void, honestly, but for an intro post to them, I think I’ll leave it at that. I would love to analyze their lyrics or perhaps review one of their albums some time, though, so don’t think this is the last time I’m discussing Romeo Void – they are SO worth mentioning on more than one occasion.
Alice Bag deserves all the happy birthday wishes in spite of the fact that I’ve kind of dropped the ball this year posting happy birthday wishes to my favorite musicians especially since I abandoned my other blogs. So I’m not letting her down!
Y’all should check out her discography if you didn’t see my excessively detailed reviews of her albums already, and you can find her discography on Spotify, Youtube, Bandcamp, and other music streaming platforms. (But you should also buy her albums, if you can. TRUST me – they’re worth it. You will not be disappointed.) One thing I wanted to add that’s so amazing about her and her career in music: to me it seems like she’s sincerely continued the DIY tradition of punk rock, all the way up through now. Which – just saying – makes her a true representative of punk rock. You can’t say that’s not respectable…
In honor of it being her birthday, and knowing how steadfastly she supports and promotes other women musicians, I’m also listening to the band Fea for the first time, and I’ll probably continue my weekly tradition of listening to Fatty Cakes and the Puff Pastries (because I adore them and their music!). I’m not done listening to Fea’s album yet, but so far I’m impressed and I appreciate their music a lot!
So happy Alice Bag day! It’d probably also be appropriate to put a paper bag over your head and jam out to some badass punk rock (by women, for sure…or by fellow Chicanx/Latinx! I’m sure that’d also be great!).
Writing for Pearls 