Sic Semper Tyrannis

Why is the World in Love Again...

I’m finding out that I really developed most of my musical identity when I was in high school. For today’s installment of my trip down musical memory lane is from my senior year in high school.

I had a goofy younger friend in high school by the name of Patrick Franklin. He was one of the smartest, funniest people I had ever met--smart and funny in the way that a mad scientist is smart and funny. He stuck out a little bit—long blond hair, wore different colored socks. Whenever he spoke, it sounded like a robot reciting a textbook. We were pals though, up until he moved to Claremore right before my senior year. I don’t think our relationship was ever the same after that, for I went to college and he stayed in Claremore for another year or two and we just lost track of each other and I know I gave up on putting forth the effort of pretending we were still friends. I’m a bastard that way.

Anyway, before he moved, Patrick had a way of patronizing me for my obsessive love for the Beatles that was festering within me at the time. But he had a couple obsessive musical loves of his own-David Bowie and a quirky little band called They Might Be Giants. I can’t remember the first time I heard them, probably while driving. But I remember the exciting process of learning about this awesome new band. (Actually, half of that is incorrect. I do remember when I first heard them.) It was probably my freshman year at a friend's house and he played me these two crazy songs called “Dinner Bell” and "The Statue Got Me High" off of the album Apollo 18. Even though the songs were really catchy and upbeat, I couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss, because Chris, (whose house I was at) had sort of gotten “weird” to me, musically-speaking. All I need to say is that I remember his proudly showing me his nine-inch-nails hanging from his bedroom ceiling. (He literally had metal nails hanging from his ceiling.) Today, Chris is a praise-and-worship music minister here in the city. Can anyone really see the ends of our paths?

I digress. Patrick and all of his friends were kir-azy about TMBG and I remember finally buckling and buying their album Flood. TMBG worked for me for several reasons: 1) their songs were hella catchy-long melodies and quirky arrangements and instrumentation, 2) their voices were such that they demanded your attention. It was impossible to ignore their music. 3) their lyrics were smart. They sang about odd things and sounded intelligent as they did it. 4) most of all, only a select few of the kids in school had even heard of them. I’ll be honest and say that the last reason was probably the most important at the time. It was like a musical rebellion for us. Since then, I’ve heard just about everything they’ve released and I came to realize just how unique their music is and was. And I think their peculiar aesthetic is one of the larger influences on the songwriting and ideas behind Grandpa Griffith.

I could really pick any album from They Might Be Giants to cite as influential in my musical development, (I was buying them up very quickly, maybe even weekly back in those heady days when I had money,) but I might as well give the highlights for Flood, the one I remember buying first.

“Theme from Flood”-How great of an idea is that? To start off your album with a chorus of voices announcing the beginning of the album.

“Birdhouse in Your Soul”-It rocks, but not like Eddie Van Halen rocks. It’s smart, but not like Arnold Shoenberg is smart. One of the best melodies and chord progressions in their catalog, I think. It just keeps running over the same ground, like an off-kilter tape loop for about three or so minutes. To say any more would be gushing and I’ve heard enough people gush over this song.

“Dead”-I remember my grandma liking this song as I played it on a drive to Norman to show her where I’d be going college. She probably liked the open harmonies and counter-melodies going on.

“Twisting”-It starts like chincey dance-pop, but once the guitar kicks in, it’s more like rock n’ roll.

“Letterbox”-The lyrics of this song go by so fast. It just killed me how talented these guys were- incorporating all the wordiness, but still having such subtlety in the backing music. If you’re not listening really closely you miss how beautiful the chords are because of the crazy vocal lines. What also used to blow me away was how they did all this under almost anonymity. They were a tiny dot on the big picture of the music world. And something about that kind of appealed to me as well, the idea of these unknown musical geniuses making their music for whomever would listen. Something told me they would have made this music for just themselves.

“Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love”-again, there’s a melancholy vibe just bubbling under the surface. That’s one of their specialties--playing with the listener’s expectations. There is a certain kind of sadness underneath the overall “up-beatness.” It’s hard to explain, never mind.

That’s the short of it. This album is full of songs that not only grab your ears from the first time, but a lot of the sounds will be rattling around in your brain long after you’ve heard them. And it is a “happy” album, but in the weird TMBG way of being “happy.” But it’s interesting to me how this album is held in pretty high regard for the band, but their live sets regularly include only two or three of these songs.

posted by Mike @ 2:53 PM