Category Archives: Song Analysis

Song Analysis #41: Keira Knightley – A Step You Can’t Take Back

Title: ‘A Step You Can’t Take Back’
Where to find it: ‘Begin Again’ film soundtrack (2014, ALXNDR)
Performed by: Keira Knightley
Words by: not sure, but the song is credited to John Carney, Gregg Alexander (known more famously as the frontman of the ’90s band The New Radicals), and Danielle Brisebois

I’d meant to see Begin Again and then it was out of the cinema before I knew it. A couple months later, I went out for brunch and a new friend said to avoid it, because there were too much swearing in it for a nice young lady like me. Okay.

On the way back from my last trip to the UK, I couldn’t sleep, so I flicked through the in-flight entertainment choices on the tv in the seat in front of me. Hmm. Begin Again. Shall I watch this? For reasons only certain people would understand, there are so many eerie coincidences in this film that it seems written for me and I was supposed to see this film while leaving the country, where I seem to have left behind someone forever. I won’t ruin the film for you (the interpretation probably will, so here’s your alert, SPOILERS!), but if you’ve seen the trailer, or even if you’ve contemplated for a moment the actual title of it, you know what the film is about. It’s just unusual it is set in the world that myself and many of my friends and acquaintances like to call home: the music business.

In the story the song was written under emotional duress, so it makes sense that it’s pretty touching when you’re presented with it the first time in the film. It undergoes an evolution through the film, as does Keira Knightley’s character Gretta. What seemed to be a quite hopeless situation for her character at the beginning ends up at the end with her getting closure that what happened was for the best, which is most often all we can ask about situations that are out of our control.

Sometimes we think things are meant to be. And when our hearts are hurting and broken, in the moment we can’t see what we come to accept later: maybe it wasn’t.

First, the words:

Verse 1
So you find yourself at this subway
With your world in a bag by your side
And all at once it seemed like a good way
You realize it’s the end of the line
For what it’s worth

Chorus
Here comes the train upon the track
And there goes the pain, it cuts to black
Are you ready for the last act?
To take a step you can’t take back?

Verse 2
Taken all the punches you could take
Took ’em all right on the chest
Now the camel’s back is breaking
Again, again
For what it’s worth

Chorus
Here comes the train upon the track
And there goes the pain, it cuts to black
Are you ready for the last act?
To take a step you can’t take back?

Bridge
Did she love you?
Did she take you down?
Was she on her knees when she kissed your crown?
Tell me what you found

Modified chorus
Here comes the rain, so hold your hat
And don’t pray to God, ’cause He won’t talk back
Are you ready for the last act?
To take a step you can’t take back, back, back?
You can’t take back, back, back.

Outro
So you find yourself at this subway
With your world in a bag by your side

Now, the analysis:

The song has two related but pretty different interpretations. “Train”, “pain” and “rain” are used as rhyming points – rather effectively, I might add – to link what is happening throughout the story. The train is also used successfully, like the image of a road in many other times in popular song, to indicate the great journey of life. But here is where the rail line splits: is it about suicide, or is it about the end of a relationship?

If you take it on the suicide / ending your life track, the more obvious path, the clues are pretty clear cut. The protagonist has reached the lowest point of her life and wants to end it. She’s holding all her worldly possessions “with your world in a bag by your side”, a pathetic state. If she were to jump in front of a moving New York City subway train, death would be instantaneous, “and there goes the pain, it cuts to black.” People who are feeling suicidal seem to have this fanciful yet incorrect notion that if they kill themselves, the pain is gone. Not really. They are gone from this plane but the pain then gets transferred to those who they left behind. You can argue the rain imagery is either tears or an sign of rebirth (similar to baptism and having the old sins being washed away in favour of the new).

However, if you analyse it in the context of the film, it’s not about suicide at all. It’s about the end of a relationship or even more strongly, about a woman challenging her man about him taking a step that will change their lives forever. In the film, Adam Levine’s character David was in a relationship with Keira Knightley’s Gretta that seemed fine on the surface when the two of them relocated to New York City while his career was just beginning. Until he basically sold his soul to the devil and had an affair with one of his producers. The “she” in the bridge can stand for either this woman he had an affair with or the tempting side of the music industry itself:

Did she love you?
Did she take you down?
Was she on her knees when she kissed your crown?
Tell me what you found

Both crimes committed by David are cardinal sins in Gretta’s book: they are singer/songwriters that have bonded over their commitment to being true to their art and the former goes against artistic integrity, and the latter of course results in her heart shattering when she learns she’s been cheated on. In a song. (I’ve had songs written for and written about me before, but I’ve yet to have learned about the transgressions of someone close to me written up in one. I can’t even imagine.) In Gretta’s case, it’s the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate knife through the heart.

As the film progresses, Gretta, now David-less, slowly finds her feet again, actually flourishing in the absence of him. It’s interesting we hear this song early on the film, because she had written when she was suffering the lowest of the lows, and as a result, when she plays it, egged onstage by her best friend Steve, played by James Corden, she seems sullen, almost not all there. It is left up to Mark Ruffalo’s character’s Dan, who hears promise and truth in Gretta’s words and singing, to take notice and give Gretta the confidence boost and just plain human kindness she didn’t even really know she needed.

However, as we get further along in the plot, the song comes to take on a new meaning. The song was written for and directed towards David and that significance is still preserved. But how it has changed is really interesting. He returns to New York City as a huge star and tries to make amends with her, realising that even with all the fame he’s gotten by selling out, he still misses her and wants her back. He invites her to a high-profile show at the Gramercy, where she is hopeful that he is the man she fell in love with, but she realises as he commercially butchers the song she wrote as a Christmas present for him years ago, ‘Lost Stars’, that she no longer needs him.

Are you ready for the last act? / To take a step you can’t take back?,” which formerly was sung by Gretta dripping with vitriol, can now be sung – and heard – more sweetly. And honestly. But still as a challenge. David took the step you can’t take back, professionally and personally. The last act was where their relationship ended. While Gretta gets her sweet revenge in the end – she writes, records, and releases an album he’s truly impressed by her efforts, and it becomes a overnight success, though I can tell you, please do not be fooled, that kind of success is rarely that easy – what comes across loud and clear is very true: what’s done is done. And you can never go back to the way things were.

Lastly, the song in two forms: one, as Knightley performed it in the film, bare and spare (turn up the volume), and in its full form on the soundtrack, with all its backing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOPXDB3pAaA

Song Analysis #40: Madonna – Live to Tell

Title: ‘Live to Tell’
Where to find it: ‘True Blue’ (1986, Sire)
Performed by: Madonna
Words by: Madonna and Patrick Leonard

Sometimes, because life is moving so fast, you don’t realise how much you’re evolving as a person. And becoming a better you. In the first 3 months of 2014, things happened in my personal life that I knew would change the way I would live my life. While still mired in the situation I found myself, I thought it would take a long time to regroup from the setbacks that had sent me reeling. I was upset, I was sad, I was heartbroken.

However, as I like to believe about all things in life, things happen for a reason, and people come into your life when you need them. Thanks to the support of longtime friends and some new ones who came into my life unexpectedly and I know will become longtime friends too, I got past all of those things. I can’t remember the last time in my life I felt such lightness. More importantly, I feel better and I know I’m not going to accept bad situations like that one anymore.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been spending a lot of time with myself, thinking about things (and not writing analyses here, so that is why there hasn’t been an analysis in MiN since the end of July, sorry!). In that time, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching. So it seems rather appropriate to do an analysis of the Madonna song ‘Live to Tell’.

I had been wanting to write about this song for a long time. In my research of the song prior to doing this analysis, it sounds like there are a lot of damaged people (physically, psychologically, or both) who relate to its words. But as one of my favourite quotes goes, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle you know nothing about.” I think the genius of the lyrics of ‘Live to Tell’ – and this is true of a great many songs that resonate well with music fans – is that they are ambiguous enough so they can be applied to a whole host of different life situations, but clearly there is an underlying theme of something deeply emotional that has happened to the song’s protagonist, but because it’s never spelled out in black and white, we have to use our own imaginations to guess what it might be.

First, the words:

Verse 1
I have a tale to tell
Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well
I was not ready for the fall
Too blind to see the writing on the wall

Chorus 1
A man can tell a thousand lies
I’ve learned my lesson well
Hope I live to tell
The secret I have learned, ’til then
It will burn inside of me

Verse 2
I know where beauty lives
I’ve seen it once, I know the warm she gives
The light that you could never see
It shines inside, you can’t take that from me

Chorus 1
A man can tell a thousand lies
I’ve learned my lesson well
Hope I live to tell
The secret I have learned, ’til then
It will burn inside of me

Chorus 2
The truth is never far behind
You kept it hidden well
If I live to tell
The secret I knew then
Will I ever have the chance again?

Bridge
If I ran away, I’d never have the strength
To go very far
How would they hear the beating of my heart
Will it grow cold
The secret that I hide, will I grow old?
How will they hear
When will they learn
How will they know

Chorus 1
A man can tell a thousand lies
I’ve learned my lesson well
Hope I live to tell
The secret I have learned, ’til then
It will burn inside of me

Chorus 2
The truth is never far behind
You kept it hidden well
If I live to tell
The secret I knew then
Will I ever have the chance again

Now, the analysis:

The first thing I want to do is confront the two possibly warring elephants in the room, or at least the way I see this song. The first one is relationships, which is an all too popular topic for pop songs. That’s fine and dandy but as we all know, some of those songs are pretty trite and silly. I’d say 90% of the time when I’m listening to music, I’m in the mood for some real emotional content. ‘Live to Tell’ could be about a relationship, but if it is, it’s certainly more than a relationship-type song. The second elephant, which seems to crop up every single time this song gets talked about despite Madonna’s own explanation of what the song is about, is childhood sexual abuse. There seem to be an awful lot of people out there who think this is what the song is about, but I’m on the fence about this. The song could be much more complicated. Or maybe it’s not complicated at all.

Regardless of how you want to interpret ‘Live to Tell’ or what you feel the main theme of the song is, there are a couple of pillars to it that are glaringly obvious. For the purpose of this review, I’m going to tackle the verses first, then come back to the choruses. In verse 1, the female protagonist is describing something that has happened in the past that she must keep as a secret, but for whatever reason, it’s a secret that she finds difficult to disguise years later (“I have a tale to tell / sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well“). In hindsight, she admits she was “not ready for the fall,” which I’m guessing means she was emotionally unprepared and therefore unable “to see the writing on the wall.

In verse 2, I want to reference Madonna’s own childhood. She had a Catholic upbringing, something she says she had trouble accepting as a child. It must have been difficult given such a loaded first name. Her mother died when she was young; the death of a parent is universally accepted by psychiatrists and psychologists as a major life stressor, which often leads to depression. In one of my favourite books, Cat’s Eye by Margaret Atwood, the female protagonist Elaine is brought up atheist but oddly, she finds comfort in the idea of the Catholics’ beloved Virgin Mary. She even has visions of her and her beneficence while unconscious because she isn’t receiving the love she so dearly wants from her own mother.

When I read verse 2, I get the same kind of feeling that Madonna might have felt similarly, having lost her mother at such an early age, recognising what she’s lost, the “beauty” of the woman who gave her life. I might be completely off base, but every time I see “the light” show up in a song, my knee-jerk reaction is to assume there’s a religious reason why the imagery is being used, though usually it comes up as a metaphor for death and heaven, which is not the case in ‘Live to Tell’. More likely, I think the light reference is referring to the memory of her mother that will always live on as a part of her.

I know where beauty lives
I’ve seen it once, I know the warm she gives
The light that you could never see
It shines inside, you can’t take that from me

There are two different bridges, touching on the opposites of truth and lies. In chorus 1, the message seems to be “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” (“a man can tell a thousand lies / I’ve learned my lesson well“), but I’m a survivor (“hope I live to tell / the secret I have learned“) and until the day I can reveal my secret, “it will burn inside of me.” In chorus 2, she’s telling the liar he/she is sunk because she knows the truth (“the truth is never far behind / you kept it hidden well“). But she brings it back to herself again, wondering, “if I live to tell / the secret I knew then / will I ever have the chance again?” The onus is back on her to tell the deep, dark secret. It seems she can’t decide if she should out the liar and tell the truth to expose him/her. She is uncomfortable with the prospect of saying anything now, but in the meantime, it will hurt and burn within her if she says nothing, waiting for a more opportune moment.

While I can see here in the bridge where the childhood sexual abuse theorists got their ammunition (and indeed, Madonna herself admits that an incident in her early years of living in New York in which she was raped affected her), the truth of the matter is, we all have secrets we hide from other people. We will try and pretend these secrets don’t exist, because confronting them is too hard. Of course, the way you view lyrics to any song is going to be affected by your own personal experience. I can only speak for myself but recalling what I said earlier about relationships being one of the two elephants in the room for this song, that explanation resonates stronger for me than the sexual abuse theory for ‘Live to Tell’.

When we are in relationships, whether they are familial or romantic, there are always things that we keep hidden about our loved ones (or former loved ones, in the case of exes). And I guess the main point I’m trying to get across in this analysis is while we can keep these things under wraps, the why differs from secret to secret, and sometimes the reasons aren’t shameful in nature at all. They just ‘are’, and only the keeper of the secret can decide if it’s appropriate to tell the secret or not, and the gravity of the meaning of that secret could very well be different for the different people involved. Consider that the person who is dumped in a relationship will probably have a far stronger emotional attachment to any special revelations the person who broke off the relationship made while they were together than that person him/herself.

For me, the bridge is the most emotionally charged part of the song, particularly with how the vocal melody allows Madonna a wide breadth of notes. This is a song I particularly like singing along to, as I consider it a great vocal exercise in the alto range. Going back to the meaning, if Madonna is to be believed, the song is actually about childhood scars and the lying and fights she had with her parents as a child. In this context, “if I ran away, I’d never have the strength / to go very far” makes total sense: what child is prepared to leave behind all she knows to run away from her parents? (Madonna did eventually run away, dropping out of school and moving to New York City. If she hadn’t had that strength to leave, we’d never have the Madonna of the last 3 and half decades.)

How would they hear the beating of my heart” adds more to the theory that it’s about a child who’s running away from emotional, not physical abuse, and “will it grow cold / the secret that I hide, will I grow old?” seems to indicate that she’s questioning if she’s still holding on this secret under figurative lock and key, does that mean she can’t get past these childhood incidents and mature? An interesting twist, sung beautifully.

Lastly, the song, in promo form from the ’80s. Is that woman who looks like a glamorous leading lady from a bygone era really the same woman who was sharing a lesbian kiss with Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera on the 2003 VMAs? Having grown up with Madonna’s music, it’s hard for me to fathom that she’s reinvented herself so many times and that the woman we see now is the same person that brought us ‘Borderline’, which I used to sing into a hairbrush. There’s also a big-haired Christopher Walken and a then young, attractive and beau to Madonna Sean Penn, as the video served as an advertisement for the two actors’ film At Close Range, filmed by the film’s director James Foley.

Song Analysis #39: Two Door Cinema Club – Next Year

Title: ‘Next Year’
Where to find it: ‘Beacon’ (2012, Kitsune [UK], Glassnote [US])
Performed by: Two Door Cinema Club
Words by: going to guess Alex Trimble, as I’ve never asked them who in their band writes the lyrics

My father was a scientist and he was away a lot when I was a child. I know a lot of this was unavoidable: he often had to go out into the field for one or another of his many expeditions, or he’d be called away to a foreign land for a scientific meeting or conference. I know these things, because even at a young age, with English as his second language, he’d ask me to review his slides and notes, making sure he was grammatically correct. Maybe that’s where my editing experience began?

I gave more serious thought to my father when my friends Two Door Cinema Club had to cancel their headline set at Latitude 2 weekends ago and a later planned appearance in Splendour in the Grass in Australia this past weekend. The reason for the cancellation is less important for the purpose of this analysis, though it struck me as intensely personal: singer/guitarist Alex Trimble collapsed on their way to the airport and needed immediate medical attention for “a chronic stomach complaint”. I met the lads in April 2010, upon their first visit to Washington; they opened for Phoenix, their American labelmates on Glassnote Records. We’d been writing about them for a while on There Goes the Fear and my cup runneth over with the prospect of seeing them live.

Four years later, I sometimes think it is insane that those three boys from Northern Ireland, so pleased to meet me and recognize me from my business card, are now huge stars with fans all over the world. I saw the terrible complaints from supposed fans upset with them pulling out from Latitude, and I reacted with same disgust as I had when fans in Europe hit out at them when they cancelled a string of dates in I believe Italy because they physically could not get to their next show because the roads had been blocked by a blizzard and it was too treacherous to travel. They’re human. What did you want them to do, wave a magic wand and be transported by fairy dust to your town?

Because of their star status, I haven’t actually talked to Two Door in person in a long while. But this lack of face time hasn’t changed my support of them; I know they appreciate me for what I’ve done for them as much as I’ve appreciated the music they’ve given to this world. This is where my thoughts of my father kicked in with the meaning of their song ‘Next Year’, and with that, the feelings I had when I had first heard the song became all the stronger.

Fans may complain that these three boys from Bangor have ruined their summer by not appearing at a music festival. But I wish those fans would stop and think for a moment who are they spending time away from all year long. Their families, their loved ones. These people, the silent, faraway, never wavering cheerleaders of these boys who I know work so hard for their dream of becoming rock stars. In that sense, ‘Next Year’ feels to me as the love letter, the Christmas card Alex, Sam, and Kevin write in their heads every time they have to be away from those they love.

People think being a rock star is the greatest thing in the world and it is in many respects the greatest job in the world. But I think the fans can lose sight of the fact that with great things come great responsibility. And great sacrifice.

First, the words:

Verse 1
I don’t know where I
am going to rest my head tonight,
so I won’t promise that I’ll speak
to you today.
But if I ever find
another place, a better time
for that moment,
I was never what I am.

Take to me to where you are,
what you’ve become,
and what you will do
when I am gone.
I won’t forget,
I won’t forget.

Chorus
Maybe someday,
you’ll be somewhere
talking to me
as if you knew me,
saying, “I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.”

Verse 2
In between the lines
is the only place you’ll find
what you’re missing
that you didn’t know was there.
So when I say goodbye,
you must do your best to try
and forgive me this weakness,
this weakness.

‘Cause I don’t know what to say,
another day,
another excuse to be sent your way.
Another day,
another year.

Chorus
Maybe someday,
you’ll be somewhere
talking to me
as if you knew me,
saying, I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.

And maybe sometime,
in a long time,
you’ll remember
what I had said there.
I said, “I’ll be home for next year, darling,
I’ll be home for next year.”

Bridge
If you think of me,
I will think of you.

Chorus
Maybe someday,
you’ll be somewhere
talking to me
as if you knew me,
saying, “I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.”

Maybe sometime,
in a long time,
you’ll remember
what I had said there.
I said, “I’ll be home for next year.”

Maybe someday,
you’ll be somewhere
talking to me
as if you knew me,
saying, “I’ll be home for next year, darling.
I’ll be home for next year.”

Now, the analysis:

The first time I heard this song, when I was reviewing ‘Beacon’ for TGTF, I thought it was about leaving behind a girlfriend for the road to live the life of a rock star. Then over the last couple of months, I listened to it more frequently on the drive to and from work and came to the conclusion that it encompassed far more people than just a girlfriend. Now I’m convinced it’s a song to all of Two Door’s family and friends, the people who they miss while they’re pursuing their dream life, yet even in their young age (they’re merely in their mid-twenties right now), they realise they’ve had to give up another part of their lives to make this dream happen.

The first half of the first verse describes their whirlwind existence. As a music editor now with lots of friends who are either musicians or support staff to musicians like managers and roadies, I often hear stories of confusion owing to too little sleep and too much travel. The opening bars “I don’t know where I / am going to rest my head tonight, / so I won’t promise that I’ll speak to you today” are honest: the singer has no idea where he is so he is earnest in saying, “I’m really sorry, but I can’t promise you I’ll ring you from where I am, because I don’t know where we are going.”

Then comes “But if I ever find / another place, a better time / for that moment, / I was never what I am”: this is an acknowledgement that if he finds himself suddenly free to ring this person, “for that moment, / I was never what I am”, it means he’s had take himself out of this place where he is a rock star. This is one of several lines I find in this song absolutely heart-breaking. He knows who he is, at least in regards to his public persona, and even if he can get away from that persona for just a moment, it’s like he’s pretending he’s someone he’s not.

He is, however, adamant to want to be in this person’s life. “Take to me to where you are, / what you’ve become, / and what you will do / when I am gone”: he wants to know what goes on even in his absence, and even vows, “I won’t forget.” These lines indicate to me that he’s well aware of what his absence is doing to his loved ones. Very sad too.

If you haven’t broken yet by this time in the song, just wait for the chorus. “Maybe someday, / you’ll be somewhere / talking to me / as if you knew me, / saying, “I’ll be home for next year, darling. I’ll be home for next year.” This first chorus seems to be spoken by the loved one; he/she is hearing him say that he’ll be home for next year. If a full year has to pass before the next chance of this event, we could be talking about a birthday, Christmas, New Year’s, anything really, and I am sure due to their busy schedule, Two Door has missed loads of happy occasions (maybe some sad ones too) that took place in their family and friends’ lives.

When the chorus comes back around after verse 2, it is a two-parter. In the second half of the chorus, the point of view flips back to the voice of the song, “And maybe sometime, / in a long time, / you’ll remember / what I had said there.” There is a weariness to these lines – “sometime”, “in a long time” – as if he’s not sure if the other person is aware of the toll his life is taking on him.

But I’m going to go back to verse 2 for a moment for some more heartstring-twanging moments. “In between the lines / is the only place you’ll find / what you’re missing / that you didn’t know was there”: I read this as referring to the multitude of interviews the band does all over the world. It must be very strange to be reading the words of your boyfriend / son / nephew / etc. in a newspaper halfway around the world. At times it must feel a bit of a shell shock, like “he’s famous!” but also “I don’t know him anymore!” when things are revealed in these interviews with strangers that even they didn’t know. The loved ones are clearly missing them but these disembodied “lines” are their only connection until the next time he can pick up the phone and ring them. “So when I say goodbye, / you must do your best to try / and forgive me this weakness, / this weakness”: the weakness I suppose is in their job and the nature of their job, for they have to pick up and leave for a tour, or a festival, or to do into the studio and record.

More heartbreak occurs in the lines before the aforementioned second chorus. “’Cause I don’t know what to say, / another day, another excuse to be sent your way”: the loved ones must receive emails and voicemails with apologies about not being able to attend birthday and anniversary parties, weddings, etc. “Another day,
another year” is a resignation that this is their life. And it’s not going to change or end any time soon. (Not that they’d want it to, mind.)

The last bit I want to leave you with is the bridge: “If you think of me, I will think of you.” As I was a child before Skype, smartphones, and technology of that ilk and long distance phone calls were often prohibitively expensive, I had to wait until my father returned from his trips before I could speak to him again. Kids these days don’t know how good they have it, to be able to video conference in their parents and relatives from far away. After my father died, my mother showed me the contents of a briefcase he took on his travels. Inside were arts and crafts my brother and I had made as young children, including a yarn bracelet with plastic charms I’d made as a Brownie and string art on a piece of a cardboard I’d made a couple years later. I had no idea he’d been carrying these things with him all over the world, but he must have been looking and fingering these pieces and thinking of us when he was alone in a non-descript hotel room far away from home.

The bridge of ‘Next Year’ makes it obvious to me that Two Door are, like myself and my own father, very loving and sentimental folks. As I mentioned earlier, it’s been some time since I’ve been lucky enough to sit down with the guys and chat over a beer, but I still feel connected to them when I hear songs like this, because I remember the times we shared before they had hit it big and a song like this tells me they haven’t changed and they’re still the same lovely Irishmen I met years ago. Sometimes I think about how I wish I could give them a hug and tell them how proud I am of them and all their successes in person instead of telling them through social media. But then I stop and think that their free moments are best to be given to their loved ones, not me.

While ‘Next Year’ is a sad song, I think those words in the bridge save it from being an elegy of abject sorrow. The bridge serves as a reminder to all that even when it’s impossible to be physically in the same place with the ones you love – whether that be here on earth, or beyond if you believe that Heaven and an afterlife exists – thinking fondly and often of those people you don’t have can preserve that love within you.

Lastly, the song, in its live performance promo video. For less sensory overload, watch the band play a stripped back version of ‘Next Year’ at Coachella 2013 here.