Category Archives: Song Analysis

Song Analysis #17: Suede – Hit Me

Title: ‘Hit Me’
Where to find it: ‘Bloodsports’ (2013, Suede Ltd)
Performed by: Suede, whose name on American Spotify “The London Suede” annoys me to high heaven
Words by: Brett Anderson

I’ve always preferred male singers to female ones. I sing in a lower register than most women – I was lead alto in school choir – so it’s more comfortable for me to sing along to men’s voices, so I’m not reaching up and beyond my range. And don’t ask me why, but I’ve always preferred the unique sounding men’s ones. Specifically Morrissey and Brett Anderson of Suede. It had been such a long time since Suede had put out anything new, and I was really sceptical when their new one ‘Bloodsports’ was announced. Many questioned if it would be any good, after having gone on hiatus (well, really, a true breakup) and making it without Bernard Butler, with the rest of them having not worked together in years.

To my pleasant surprise, I actually really love the new album, and one huge reason about this is that the starry-eyed vocal quality of Anderson’s is still there, espousing the power of love of all things. Though of course being Brett Anderson, there are always ‘Barriers’ to it actually happening. There was always something special in the way he was romantic (and depending on the song, sexual) in his words. There was something dangerous too; I always sensed that he was not someone who loved easily but if you happened to fall in love with him, he’d latch on like the Scorpio I dated as my first boyfriend many moons ago and would never let go.

First, the words:

Verse 1 (long version)
You touch the place where we meet
Where you and I become she and he
I’m not as strong as I pretend to be

You feel the scratches and scars
You feel the possibly we call ours
But drop me once and I’ll fall to bits

Chorus (x2)
Come on and hit me
With your majesty
Come on and hit me
With all your mystery

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la

Verse 2 (short version)
I remember when we touched, we are young
You feel my pulse and we become one
But drop me once and I will fall to bits

Chorus (x2)
Come on and hit me
With your majesty
Come on and hit me
With all your mystery

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la

Chorus (x2)
(So) Come on and hit me
With your majesty
Come on and hit me
With all your mystery

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la

Now, the analysis:

I remember when I was younger and telling my father that I would have preferred to have been born a boy because it’s in my nature to be honest and if I’m blunt, so be it. You know what you’re called when you’re a woman who acts like that, right? I don’t like how in Western society (and even more so in Oriental ones ::groan::) women have to wait until the man makes the move. We’re not allowed to. We have to stand around, look pretty, and wait for him to come to us. From a psychological standpoint, some “experts” have said this stems from the fact that the man has to feel like he’s the one in control and he’s the one calling the shots. I’ve always been an individual and fiercely independent, so this goes against everything I believe in.

The reason I really like this song? It’s so simple, yet it so clear in showing the vulnerability of a man in love. And let’s face it, whether it’s because they are inherently macho or it’s society that’s made them like this, men in general aren’t readily willing to show or admit their feelings to the women they are interested in. They have to be really, truly in love for anything like that to surface. Are they afraid of getting hurt? Are they afraid of being vulnerable, to admit they can be like us women and their outer armour can be penetrated when their defenses are down? Well, hate to say it fellas, but some of us women prefer those non-macho, emotion-rich types. I want to be with someone who not only can empathise with my feelings but has his own feelings and can show those feelings to me without feeling like he’s any less of a man. I don’t want to be in love with a brick wall.

Both halves of the first verse are structured in the same way: the first two lines are optimistic, and romantic for Anderson’s style of writing. He’s acknowledging there is a strong connection there. (Um, “you touch the place where we meet“? Hello, sex.) But is it love? He can let down his guard because they’re at the place “where you and I become she and he“. (By the way, I love how he swapped the usual order of “he and she” to “she and he” – he’s giving her more respect, opposite to the way on envelopes a doctor is addressed before his married wife, “Dr. and Mrs.”) He’s letting her into his world and letting her see him, warts and all (“you feel the scratches and scars“). And that’s perfectly okay, because they’re together and it feels right (“you feel the possibly we call ours“). Oh yeah, and grammar be damned! “Possibly” used as a noun. Why not?

Then examine the third lines. Both indicate just how vulnerable he is in this position. “I’m not as strong as I pretend to be“: he’s telling her (or us) it’s not a comfortable situation and it’s taking all of his courage to be able to give in to her, to surrender. “But drop me once and I’ll fall to bits“: he knows he’s on a knife edge between bliss and possible rejection or heartbreak, but he’s willing to take that chance for love.

You touch the place where we meet (1)
Where you and I become she and he (2)
I’m not as strong as I pretend to be (3)

You feel the scratches and scars (1)
You feel the possibly we call ours (2)
But drop me once and I’ll fall to bits (3)

The chorus has an interesting contrast too. He’s inviting her to “hit” him with who she is, a majestic, beautiful creature he’s fallen in love with. But he also reckons there is a mysterious element to her as well, and he’s excited about the prospect of learning more about her as “all your mystery” unfolds to him.

The next and final true verse is somewhat similar to those I described above, but with a further romantic twist. They’ve touched, they’ve been so close she could feel his pulse (a shortened, less elegant way of conveying the overused “you can / can you feel my heartbeat”), but he’s still feeling vulnerable. This, I think, is amazing. The song hasn’t come to any resolution; he’s not skipping around town without any inhibitions because of being in love. Don’t misunderstand all those “la las”. No, as a man he’s still feeling exposed. I feel that, because that feeling is real. And all too rare to be seen in my experience.

I remember when we touched, we are young (1)
You feel my pulse and we become one (2)
But drop me once and I will fall to bits (3)

Women aren’t allowed to take chances in love, and men don’t want to take the chances in love, even though they’re allowed to. Huge disconnect.

Lastly, the song, in its promo video form. Remember what I said about Brett Anderson being dangerous? The video takes that literally. Initially, the video made no sense to me but the more I watched it, the more I “got” it. I won’t say anymore to let you come to your own conclusions.

Song Analysis #16: Stornoway – November Song

Title: ‘November Song’
Where to find it: ‘Tales from Terra Firma’ (2013, 4AD)
Performed by: Stornoway
Words by: Brian Briggs

Brian Briggs is a very interesting singer/songwriter. Like yours truly, he trained as a biologist – his specialty was birds – so he has a different take on songwriting because his life experience is so unique. His band Stornoway released their second album this year, and rather interestingly, both albums – 2010’s ‘Beachcomber’s Windowsill’ and this year’s ‘Tales from Terra Firma’ – end with a tear-jerky love song. ‘Long Distance Lullaby’ was the drunken wailings of a man who has lost his soulmate and is trying to move on, because she already has with someone else. But is ‘November Song’ a love song at all? On the surface it is, but listen more closely to the words and there’s definitely more there.

First, the words:

Verse 1
As I was following the road back to our house
Deeper than blue was the dusk through the trees
With the last of the leaves clinging on like my mother’s hand
Cold as the sandpaper wind on my cheeks

Over the river and under the railway
Moonlight in silver the ribbon of blue
And the phone lines were whistling like my mother’s breathing
And my eyes were streaming

Chorus
There’s a clock on my wall
Sometimes I hear it in my dreams
But I won’t be afraid of the changes a comin’
While I know a love that is sure as the morning

Verse 2
There’s a light in the clock house
A light in the chapel
A light in the hallway left on by an angel
And I creep up the stairs and I pause on the threshold
To take off my boots and my clothes in the dark

With my nose like a fox and my skin like a chicken
I steal into my bed where it’s warm as an oven
And you feel like the bread made in my mother’s kitchen
And we’re peaceful as a candle

Chorus and outro
And the clock on my wall
Sometimes I hear it in my dreams
But I won’t be afraid of the changes a comin’
While I know a love that won’t break with the dawn
No, I won’t be afraid of the darkness a comin’

No, I won’t be afraid of the darkness a comin’
While I know a love that’s sure as the morning

Now, the analysis:

It’s clear to me this song isn’t purely about love between a man and a woman, even though the subtext is there. No, it’s not that simple. The basic storyline is the protagonist’s circuitous way home to the woman he loves, travelling in the middle of the night alone and therefore he’s able to collect his thoughts. But there are three mentions of his mother throughout this song, and their mentions have major significance.

His mother’s resilience is compared to leaves hanging on a tree bough but not falling: “With the last of the leaves clinging on like my mother’s hand”. Who is she clinging on to? At first I thought maybe this meant she was desperately trying to keep a hold on her son, as mothers do: many mothers feel the women that enter their sons’ lives are not good enough for their children. However, the second mention “And the phone lines were whistling like my mother’s breathing / And my eyes were streaming” indicates he’s been crying. Was he there when his mother died, her clutching to his hand, grasping on her last feeling of life? Or maybe she is in hospital and is poorly and her breathing is laboured, indicating the end is near. I tend to favour the latter explanation, as in the chorus, Brian Briggs sings, “But I won’t be afraid of the changes a comin’” – a major life event is about to occur – “While I know a love that is sure as the morning” – he’s going to be okay because he is with the woman he loves and he knows when the new day dawns, she will be there for him: “While I know a love that won’t break with the dawn”.

When he finally gets to the house, he comments that there’s a light on “left by an angel” (his love) and he wants to be quiet when he gets into bed, so not to wake her. Yet what is he thinking when he gets into bed? “I steal into my bed where it’s warm as an oven / And you feel like the bread made in my mother’s kitchen”: he has a wonderful remembrance of his childhood, of his mother baking bread in their kitchen. It may seem like a strange thought, like slightly Oedipal, but in this context, I don’t see anything salacious in this.

It’s funny, when I first heard this song, before “the darkness a comin'” really made an impression on me, I thought “the changes a comin'” indicated his love was pregnant and they were expecting a child. There was just something about the song, the way it was constructed, that made me think the event being anticipated was a joyous one. And I suppose it still is: even if he is losing (or has lost) his mother and that represents a great darkness that will come, he can hold his love in his arms and won’t be alone because she is his “light” even if the road up ahead is dark. And he will be able to look back at his childhood and recall his mother with great fondness.

He was alone in the dark and chilled to the bone until he came back home and into the light – provided by his great love. He even describes their love “as peaceful as a candle”: hot with passion, yet their passion is settled enough to burn in one continuous flame, peaceful. It’s an example of deft songwriting at its finest.

Lastly, the song, live at the Mercury Lounge in New York City in 2010.

Song Analysis #15: Smashing Pumpkins – Perfect

Title: ‘Perfect’
Where to find it: ‘Adore’ (1998, Virgin Records)
Performed by: Smashing Pumpkins
Words by: Billy Corgan

Yes, I know. It’s Thursday. Not Tuesday. But things have been weighing heavily on my mind, we just had Labor Day weekend here, which messed up my usual schedule and yeah…you’re getting a song interpretation today 🙂

Before he went bald and turned into a menacing Uncle Fester and well before he dated Jessica Simpson and tried to turn her into a goth, it’s easy to forget that the same man Billy Corgan wrote some of the best teen angsty songs of the ’90s. Some of them were hard: ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’, ‘Today’. Some of them were majestic: ‘1979’, ‘Tonight, Tonight’. Some of them were painfully beautiful: ‘Disarm’. And this one, ‘Perfect’, probably my favourite Smashing Pumpkins song. The album from whence it came, ‘Adore’, showed a shift in Corgan’s songwriting, which was evidenced by the overall less abrasive, quieter quality of the release.

First, the words:

Verse 1
I know
We’re just like old friends
We just can’t pretend
That lovers make amends
We are reasons so unreal
We can’t help but feel
That something has been lost

Chorus
But please
You know you’re just like me
Next time I promise we’ll be perfect
Perfect
Perfect

Bridge 1
Strangers down the line
Lovers out of time
Memories unwind
So far, I still know who you are
But now I wonder who I was

Verse 2 (truncated)
Angel, you know it’s not the end
We’ll always be good friends
The letters have been sent on

Chorus
So please
You always were so free
You’ll see, I promise we’ll be perfect
Perfect

Bridge 2
Strangers when we meet
Strangers on the street
Lovers while we sleep

Modified chorus / outro
Perfect
You know this has to be
We always were so free
We promised that we’d be
Perfect
Perfect

Now, the analysis:

This song plays with themes of time, lifetimes, and love and death. Pretty standard pop/rock fodder there. However, I’m detecting an underlying theme of reincarnation as well. I can tell you from first hand knowledge that this is probably about the worst song – besides ‘The End of the World’ – that you can listen to when you’ve realised the relationship you’re in is breaking down and you can’t cope.

The lovers of this song are obviously in tune with each other: “I know / We’re just like old friends”; “You know you’re just like me”. But the voice of the song is trying to tell his lover that this time around, it’s not working out. But what will happen between them on a different plane, in another life? “Next time I promise we’ll be perfect”, they will. He seems so sure of this. The way Corgan slowly sings, “perfect…perfect…”, it’s done in such a whispering, angelic way, I can’t get over it. This is the same man spitting vitriol at us in ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’, insisting “the world is a vampire”? Meanwhile, the song itself is driving on with its guitars and drums, rounding out the sound and not letting the mood of the lyrics slow down the song one bit.

I find the bridges very beguiling. In the first one, “Strangers down the line / Lovers out of time / Memories unwind”: after you’ve broken up with someone, you start to feel like they’re strangers because they’ve been unceremoniously cut out of your life. You start to think of them as a lover that was in your life at the wrong time and place, even if the memories can still be fresh in your mind. And quite literally, these lovers in the song are out of time: the relationship is over. “Strangers when we meet / Strangers on the street” has the same kind of sentiment. But “Lovers while we sleep” works very well to me here because when we sleep, our subconscious is alive and remembers those who we loved and those who hurt us. It’s not a far stretch of the imagination to think that while we dream, even if we’ve broken up with someone, that person will still appear as a lover in our dreams.

But the kicker of the song for me are these lines that close the first bridge: “So far, I still know who you are / But now I wonder who I was.” When you’re deep into a relationship, or even just a mild infatuation, you yourself make changes to the way you think, the way you act, the way you react in response to being around this person you love. The problem for most of us is that we bend over backwards to change ourselves so that we can be that perfect person we envision for the one we love, while at the same time putting that person on a pedestal and thinking he/she is perfect and he/she doesn’t have any faults or doesn’t need to change. This is extremely dangerous. No-one’s perfect and if and when that relationship falls apart and you can step back from the wreckage, you will begin to see how messed you really were, changing yourself to be the kind of person you thought the other person wanted. In short, love when it’s not real is destructive. Billy Corgan’s voice comes to accept this.

The last bit, which is a modification of the earlier choruses going into an outro, is pretty harrowing too. “You know this has to be / We always were so free”: our destiny is that we won’t have a happy ending. We weren’t and aren’t meant to be together, at least in this life. I find this is echoed in the chorus of the Crookes‘ ‘Chorus of Fools’: “you and me were fated to be so damn blue”.

What I find extremely emotional is Corgan’s parting blow and how he manages it: “We promised that we’d be / Perfect…” Did you notice what he did there with just a single word change? In the previous iteration of the chorus, he said “*you* always were so free”, not *we*. In the course of the song, he’s gone from thinking that this person he was with was “perfect” and that it was she who was meant to be free of the relationship and free from him. But by the time we reach the end, he has removed himself from this thinking that he was the problem and has come to the conclusion that it’s best that both of them are set free from the ties that bind. And that’s ultimately where you want to end up when a relationship has ended: the true transformation in you is when you realise that something amazing happened to you when you were with that person in love, and while it’s over, you just might see that person again in another life and maybe then you have another chance of giving it a real shot. In that respect, the song comes out not sad, but optimistic.

No pun intended, this song is just about perfect.

Lastly, the song, the song’s promo video, which incidentally was purposely made to connect to the video for ‘1979’, utilising the same directing team of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris and four out of five of the actors from the earlier video. I don’t think the video does much for the song at all and kind of marginalises its value.