This week, I have been surrounded by an abundance of the people I love most in the world. Sitting here and writing this now, I look around my one-story house and the fire is roaring in the pellet stove, the table is crowded with heated conversation, and the sounds of The Beach Boys are pouring out through the Brookstone tower speaker I picked up from Goodwill for ten dollars. As much as I complain about Connecticut and how little there is to do here, it feels good to be home. It feels good to be around the familiar. In the spirit of family and the beautiful people that have helped me through the many stages of my life, I’d like to make this playlist all about names.
Song One: “Vincent” by Don McLean
I grew up learning the words to “American Pie” in the back seat of my mom’s green Subaru Forester. While I always loved Don McLean, it took me a few years to fully appreciate the depth of his lyricism. Don McLean is an American singer/songwriter, drawing musical influence from the greats like Buddy Holly and Frank Sinatra. As an incredibly driven young man, he first began playing guitar and songwriting at 16, making a connection with others in the music industry to kick off his career. His drive paid off when “American Pie” hit number one on U.S. music charts for four weeks in 1972, and for good reason. Between his beautiful storytelling and soothing voice, Don McLean creates music that means something to people.
The song “Vincent” is written as a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, telling the story of his under-appreciated life and his internal struggles. McLean sings to Van Gogh as if he knew him personally and they were friends, giving the song a special intimate quality. Throughout the song, McLean makes several references to Van Gogh’s artwork, especially through the repeated line “Starry, Starry Night” in reference to the painter’s most famous work. He uses the repetition of this image to reflect on Van Gogh as a bright spot in an otherwise very dark life. Much of the song discusses his mental illness, as referenced in the line “Now I understand what you tried to say to me, and how you suffered for your sanity.” He then asserts that painting had a healing effect on Van Gogh as he notes “Weathered faces lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.” He gives Vincent Van Gogh the role of a savior as he created something beautiful where there once was suffering. McLean’s tribute leaves a lasting sentiment with the line “This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.” McLean wants to celebrate the life of Van Gogh and how even though he himself was fighting his own demons, he inspired many others to experience the best in their lives.
Song Two: “Claire” by Morphine
I chose to include this song in my playlist as a birthday dedication to my suitemate Claire who has taught me so much about strength and confidence. When I think of the kind of person she is, it fills me with warmth at how truly compassionate she is. She told me that she was partially named after this song. Morphine is an alternative rock band out of Cambridge, Massachusetts consisting of the members Mark Sandman, Dana Colley, and Jerome Deupree. Their music is a blend of blues and jazz mixed in with their alternative rock roots. Their minimalist sound allows for the sullen tone of Sandman’s voice to shine through.
As much as I do enjoy the brassy and gloomy instrumentals of this song, “Claire” is actually a bit sparse in its lyrics. The singer of the song is obviously conflicted by the disparity in his relationship with Claire and the feelings he has for her. He attempts to play it off cool as he opens the song by saying “treat me wrong, honey I don’t care.” He then sings, “you said you’d kill me if I was late, Claire.” Here, he paints Claire as someone who will take you or leave you, but still expects others to put her at the forefront of their priorities. The speaker claims to have been hurt badly from unbalanced power dynamics in their relationship, saying “You used me up like gasoline.” At the end of the song, the speaker tells Claire that he doesn’t miss her, but then immediately says that he still loves her. I don’t know about you, but I’m not convinced. It seems like this guy has a lot of things he still has to work out and that Claire wasn’t a good fit for him after all.
Song Three: “Lisa Sawyer” by Leon Bridges
Leon Bridges is one of those artists that I listen to and immediately feel at peace with myself. His soulful quality contains a sort of truth that can transport almost anyone into his story with him. He is someone who feels everything within his music, and “Lisa Sawyer” is no exception to this. Leon Bridges defines himself as a soul singer/songwriter as well as a record producer. Coming from Fort Worth, Texas, Bridges got his start by playing at open mic nights in Fort Worth’s Del Frisco’s Grille and was then signed to Columbia Records. Bridges claimed that “Lisa Sawyer” was the first song to truly define his sense of musical style as it talks about his mother’s conversion to Christianity.
His mother’s story begins in New Orleans, born to an Indian mother and a working class father. Bridges describes his grandmother as being “swift as the wind” and “fierce as fire,” meaning that she was not a woman to be messed with. He tells us about her early family life, growing up as the youngest of seven children, describing her home as “chaos around, but inside, cozy.” Living in a cramped space with that many people could easily become too much to bear, but to his mother, this chaos was home and it was something she cherished. Although they never had much money in their lives, they were not wanting for love or a sense of community. He then tells the story of his mother’s connection with her religion. He tells us that “she found Christ at an altar. All along he was calling her name.” Bridges is trying to say here that even though it took his mother 16 years to become a Christian, she was blessed throughout her entire life. She was always connected to her spirituality even if she did not yet realize it. It is clear that his mother’s journey had a large impact on Leon and his own connection to God.
Song Four: “Violet” by Hippo Campus
“Violet” was actually the first song I ever listened to by Hippo Campus. I was drawn in by the violence and the cynicism mixed with the classic alternative sound that resonated in the Minnesotan band. Hippo Campus holds a special place in my heart because of their clear appeal to youth culture and revolution. Everyone needs angsty music to listen to throughout their teenage years, and Hippo Campus filled this role for me. Their first album “Landmark” was released in 2017 and got me through some of my first ever driving lessons. In fact, I kept that album in my car that whole summer. It seemed like their music accompanied me in a defining moment of my sense of independence and freedom. “Violet” also inspired a poem I wrote in my senior year of high school by the same name. As an exercise in my poetry class, we were made to write our own sonnets, a form of poetry that I had never been a fan of. It proved a challenge for me to find rhyming words that said something interesting and surprising. It wasn’t until a further edited draft that I took two middle lines out of the sonnet that had given me trouble and replaced them with “Still weak from violet lightning that she shed/ She watched as life spilled out into the drain.” This not only gave me the title I had been searching for, but it also conveyed the same feelings that I think are present in the story of Violet told in Hippo Campus’s song.
This song struck me because of its truly unique images and sense of lyricism. The song is opened by Jake Luppen’s voice singing, “you see with golden eyes, the novocaine lullaby.” Already, he sets this girl apart, making her at once seem intriguing and yet utterly detached from her own life. Novocaine is made to numb, suggesting that she sees the world with an overwhelming sense of apathy. At the chorus, the speaker talks about Violet’s motivations. He says “Violet, trying to start your riot,” as if to say that the girl is always angry about something and trying to work towards some sort of greater cause. Violet’s violence doesn’t end with her willfulness though. Luppen tells us “Then you’ll come to me, with a bitter wind, in agony.” Violet is a girl feeling conflicted with herself, not knowing how to deal with her own internal struggles. He describes her words as “bitter wind” because of the way in which she projects her troubles onto others and is not afraid to hide her cynicism. I think part of the reason why I love this song is because we all know somebody like Violet, too lost for their own good.
Song Five: “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” by Arlo Guthrie
This song made this year’s Thanksgiving special. When I came home from school, I thought I would be spending the holiday only with my mom and my brother as my dad’s side of the family left to Florida to visit our extended family. When I came back, I was happy to find that my mother’s side of the family, who normally had other plans for Thanksgiving, would be spending it in our home with us. What I thought would be a rather hollow and mundane event turned into one of the most enjoyable Thanksgivings I’ve ever had. I’ve never before in my life seen my aunt and uncle get up and act out the entirety of an 18-minute song, or a circle of ten people sing in their own version of a four-part harmony, the chorus to what has become such a special part of my family’s culture.
Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” tells the story of how a man got arrested for littering on Thanksgiving and discusses the controversy present at the time over the draft. The issue that occured was that Arlo and his friend were tasked with taking the garbage to the dump on Thanksgiving, but when they got there, they found that the dump was closed. They went in search of another place to put the garbage and when they came to a cliff at the side of the road and saw some garbage already there they decided “that one big pile was better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up, we decided to throw ours down.” In a turn of events, Guthrie finds himself arrested for his crime and ends up in court. As he tells the story of his day in court, he describes the “twenty-seven 8 by 10 colored glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one” that were taken from the garbage they had left, being used as evidence against them. He then tells his audience that the judge walked into the courtroom with a seeing-eye dog and Guthrie refers to it as “a typical case of American blind justice.” Peppered in with the cleverly timed jokes and the entertaining storytelling, Guthrie brings up the much more serious issue of the draft, as years later, he was summoned for inspection by the army. He goes through all of the possible ways he can think up to get himself out of being drafted, by telling the psychiatrist they had on duty that he felt the urge to kill. It turns out that his fateful day being arrested for littering on Thanksgiving deems him “not be moral enough to join the army after committin’ your special crime.” Although Guthrie’s song is a comical tale, he also uses it as propaganda for people to exercise their rights to use their voices against the imposition of the government.
Song Six: “Alison” by Elvis Costello
Whenever I think of this song, I think about my favorite scene in an extremely underrated romantic comedy called “Get Over It” in which Ben Foster plays a lovesick teen who drunkenly professes his love to his ex, Alison, outside her bedroom window by singing her this song. Ever since then, I’ve connected this song to the feelings of teenage heartbreak. Elvis Costello has been an influential figure on the music scene for his involvement in the first wave of British punk and the new wave movement. As a multi-talented individual, he focused himself on songwriting as well as book writing and acting.
In a similar vein as Morphine’s “Claire,” this song too talks about a girl who the speaker simply cannot get over. Alison also seems like the kind of girl who doesn’t pay you any mind while you’re with her, and yet, it seems like these sorts of girls are irresistible. “Alison” starts with the speaker’s admission that he hasn’t seen Alison in a long time and it implies that they may have had a connection back in their time, as the speaker brings up that “I heard you let that little friend of mine take off your party dress.” He clearly feels some sort of jealousy and resentment toward the fact that he was not chosen and that instead, she chose to sleep with his friend. While he may be trying to assert something about her character here, he claims continuously that his “aim is true.” What he means is that he will be able to love Alison even after everyone else has given up on her. The speaker’s jealousy spreads when he refers to Alison’s new husband and makes assumptions about their relationship and how he could have ultimately been better for her than her husband is. He then goes on to tell Alison, “sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talking when I hear the silly things that you say.” This, to me, does not sound like the kind of person who would be the best thing for her. He’s disregarding her speech simply because she disagrees with him. Honestly, this just seems like another case of infatuation with the idea of a person rather than the person themselves.
Song Seven: “Suzanne” by Leonard Cohen
I chose this song to celebrate my very best friend Ben’s birthday. He’s always been a big fan of Leonard Cohen and has been inspired by both his music and endeavors in writing. One of the things I admire most about Ben is how passionate he is, even if he himself does not always realize it or believe that about himself. I can understand why Leonard Cohen would serve as a muse to him. Cohen’s work was so important because it touched on subjects that scratch at the cores of our identities such as religion, politics, sexuality and the feelings of loneliness. He creates work that is inspirational to people on the most essential levels of their beings.
“Suzanne” continues with the theme of the mysterious and intriguing woman, this one using her charms to manipulate the feelings of the speaker. Cohen sings about Suzanne as if she were some sort of enchantress, saying that “just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her, then he gets you on her wavelength and she lets the river answer that you’ve always been her lover.” Her ways are confusing and they act as a seductive haze. She brings out of the speaker feelings that he didn’t even know he was capable of having. The speaker then confuses his path with Suzanne with the path he shares with Jesus. He tells his audience that “ Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water.” I believe that this line means that although religion worships Jesus, he too learned from the world around him and experienced his life in a very human way. He turns back to the character of Suzanne in his last verse, relating her to his found faith. He sings that “Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river. She’s wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters.” Even though Suzanne outwardly does not seem like anyone who is incredible, to him, she is his salvation. She “leads [him] to the river,” meaning that she takes him on a much similar journey that he experienced when discovering his spirituality. To him, love and faith are inseparably intertwined.
I find that songs about someone always exude a unique and intimate quality because you know that they were inspired by someone tangible in that person’s life. They are songs filled with admiration as well as heartbreak, but mostly, names evoke honesty. When you write someone into a song, you are saying to them all the things you were too afraid to say to their face and often the things you couldn’t admit to yourself. These songs allow us to become closer to ourselves and our own perceptions of the world through our emotional lived experience. There are so many names in my own life that will always mean something important to me, each with its own story. By releasing these names to the world, these countless musicians show their bravery by allowing themselves to be vulnerable without regrets.