Got more CDs for my car, just in time for the potholes to be nearly filled in. Still, driving over a big bump skips the CD, why does that hurt my feelings more than the potential tire damage?
On Repeat
Labcabincalifornia – The Pharcyde. Great album, genuinely fun despite some of the serious topics discussed, which is the correct recipe for these trying times. Odd to listen to something in 1995 that still feels relevant. Bootie Brown’s clear voice is the cherry on top.
Hayden Pedigo – any of his solo works, but I’ll Be Waving As You Drive Away paired very well with yardwork over the weekend. I was house-sitting for my friends and felt like rearranging their lawn furniture. Outside in the sun on a spring day? Seltzer in hand? Are you kidding?
Middle of Nowhere – Kacey Musgraves. Just listened for the first time yesterday, so it hasn’t had time to sit. However, I liked her lyrics right away. Thought I’d give her a shot after hearing she’s bringing a teenage mariachi band on tour. The brothers were abducted by ICE this year, and now they’re opening for a big name. I hope this inspires other artists to uplift marginalized communities. Partial to “Dry Spell” no reason no reason. Also “Abilene” is quite catchy.
Japanese Study
As for learning, I’m back on my bullshit WaniKani and heavy into the Japanese study groove once again. In April, I finished reading my very first manga in Japanese! Why did it take me this long? I don’t know but baby it’s a MILESTONE!
The manga was Chi’s Sweet Home Vol. 1 which uses mostly kana and some animal pronunciations (which is honestly harder to read than Kanji). Since then, I’ve also finished Vol. 2!
ALSO just discovered Watanoc.com thanks to the WaniKani forums. It’s a free, online Japanese magazine for N5-N3 learners. You can tell teachers designed this, because it lets you hover over vocabulary and grammar and has a translated summary for each section. ALSO, you aren’t able to hover over vocabulary or grammar that repeats multiple times in an article, so you will get the English definition the first time, but must recall it the next time it appears. It’s not perfect, but it’s fun!
I like to choose an article, read one section and guess at the meaning. Then hover over vocabulary and grammar I don’t know (hiragana vocab + grammar is currently my weak spot). Then I read the article two more times.
A fun game is to drink a sip of water/coffee/tea each time there’s a word from WaniKani.
Author’s Note: I’m fine! And if my family’s reading this, do not worry! I never had to use a particular set of skills <3
…
“Be yourself is about the worst advice you can give to some people.” – J.B. Priestley
…
It’s May 2021 and I’m sitting across from an awkward man, the kind of gangly white man who looks like he’s been pressed together in a trash compactor. His head and eyes move quick and anxious, like an owl that’s scared of what’s behind him. And I wonder not if, but how he’d murder me if I kept seeing him. I’m guessing strangulation. He takes out his gum and squishes it firmly to his dinner plate. Strangulation for sure.
This is my third attempt at being a sugar baby and after seeing the man put that cold hard gum back in his mouth after his spaghetti, I know it’s my last. Turns out, you really can’t pay me enough to eat with people who need to buy attention in the first place. The effort it takes to neutralize my frown of disgust! Too much!
A few years later I’m online with other Geese fans and they’re talking about Geordie Greep. This name has come up enough times now that I wonder if he’s like 100 Gecs, who I still hadn’t listened to because something in my gut told me it was for raves only. [2026 update: I’ve listened and still cannot tell.] Geese, Geordie Greep, 100 Gecs? What’s with all the Gs? Puzzling.
“Holy, Holy” is 6:03 minutes and rules immediately. Intense staccato triplets? You better believe I’m INTO IT! And the music video is in a bowling alley just like Geese’s I See Myself. But then Geordie Greep pops into frame and holy shit! It’s Gum Boy! No I’m kidding, but that would be crazy.
The lyrics start and I sense a familiar type of character. Not another one of these losers, c’mon not this again. Every ball is labelled “10” and he bowls a strike repeatedly, dancing in front of the pins just long enough for an editor to rig the game in post. Classic fake strike.
What I love most about this song is its true danceability. You can rock tf out to this bad boy no question. What I love second most is that in 6 minutes, Greep establishes an arrogant, confident character who reveals he’s only an insecure person with money. With feeling! With lore. And for clarification, Greep and the narrator of “Holy, Holy” are not the same person.
The barmaids know my name I’ve had them all before You are new – I’ll have you too It’s time to give in
Ick. The façade fades in the second half of the song. Marked by an asterisk* on the official video‘s lyrics, the song is divided in half both lyrically and musically at 3:20. In the first half, he declares himself the god of the room. In the second, he’d be stickin his gum to a dinner plate if you gave him one.
Why hide your true nature at all? There are people in this world who are all talk and all trick. The people who run my country, for example. So in the first half he’s bold:
You must have heard about me Everyone knows my name Everyone knows I’m holy
Pair that with the final verses and you’ve got yourself an actor.
And I want you to make me look taller, Could you kneel down the whole time? How much would that cost?
Which half happened first? If we go chronologically by First Half = Arrogant, Second Half = Big Reveal, it feels like a guy who crumbled the second he got the woman’s attention.
However, it’s fun to wonder if the second half was the two of them arranging a deal before they walked into the bar. Then it becomes First Half = Fantasy Plays Out, Second Half = Flashback to the Planning Stage. With the final verse, that idea holds more weight:
Thank you so much / We’ll meet the same time next week / And the next week after that too / And the next week after that / And the next month and the
It cuts off mid-sentence. He leaves satisfied. Despite nearly impossible requests to look unsure of herself, unimpressed, and then blush, his lady of the night did her job so well that he wants to see her again.
Both interpretations of form are valid in my book, but I do enjoy the second idea more. It feels like a movie, like a heist. Either way, the second half is a little embarrassing. Like watching someone fumble their keys.
Released in August 2024, “Holy, Holy” is no longer news in the music industry. But the rivalry between fantasy and reality is ongoing. With “the male loneliness epidemic” becoming a meme, it’s worth a shot to take the reins of this joke and steer it back to its origins.
The speaker represents a specific type of person who yearns for affection with no social skills to acquire it. What do you do when you have no game? Work on your game? No, you fantasize about being important. And for many people, status is a valid replacement for charisma.
It’s valuable to highlight the rolodex of personas people wear on a daily basis. So much is done to replace true human connection. Roleplay videos on YouTube, AI chatbots, phone addiction. Like the black rectangle at the end of the music video, your closed eyes can import any dream you want. I can do backflips in my mind.
But showing up as an actor just writes your life into an empty story with empty connections. Even when the mask is as sheer as a dragonfly wing, taking it off can be almost impossible. That’s one reason it’s easy to empathize with the narrator even if you’ve never paid anyone to make you look taller. He’s so clearly not who he wants to be.
So no, the whole world does not think the narrator is some kind of sex god. The barmaids probably don’t either. He’s more like an employee of his imagination, working without benefits. Story of my life.
Most of us have put another person on a pedestal, yearning for any crumb of affection they could possibly bestow upon our sad, thirsty little hearts. And in our limerent fantasies we imagine ourselves worthy of these people, or worthy of the illusion we fabricated. But in moments like “Holy, Holy” when you’re sick with wanting, sometimes all you can truly do is dance.
Ever since August 2008, there’s been one special song I play before every nerve-wracking endeavor: Bennie And The Jets by Elton John. I’ve played it before giving my 2-weeks notice, asking someone out, the first day in a new country and a new life, you get the idea.
The first time I heard it was in the movie 27 Dresses, and that summer was orchestra camp. It was an hour before our big performance and my nerves wouldn’t let go of me. At the time I kept telling myself, “the song will be the same no matter how good you are or how bad you suck.” Some kind of anchor. And now it’s my tradition! Happy belated birthday, Elton John!
the song of the day (a thing i’ve done every day for the last one hundred and eleven years, don’t believe me? go check) is Gustav Holst’s Venus: the Bringer of Peace. It’s a song for lush meadows and cinderella birds
now for the scheduled March 25th 2026 update: i’m migrating this site to another host…which sounds like a sci-fi movie i don’t wanna watch
so if you experience bizarre issues here in the coming days my apologies, it’s only because i do not know what i’m doing <3 luv u #loveyou #thanksforreading #musiclover #IThoughtAboutHiringSomeoneButRememberedWhatIDidToMyPocketsThisMonth
Right now it’s 1/29/2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Alex Pretti was murdered on Saturday, and on Sunday I joined an ICE watch zoom training. Tonight, an old friend of mine will give me a refresher on gun safety. This is a terrible introduction to a Cameron Winter show review but just hold on. Most of my time now is spent thinking about what skills I must acquire for the revolution, and then learning them. There’s no need for tinfoil; you know what’s happening. Does paper beat bullet? All I have is a pen. And as much as I love my Zebra Sarasa Clip 0.5mm, I’m not sure it’s mightier than an AR-15.
Camera back on Cameron. It was a brisk day in Chicago on December 17th, 2025. He was set to play at Rockefeller Chapel, so my friend and I took a flight down to see him. As we hopped on local transit, we could guess with 100% accuracy who else was headed to our destination. What are we called, new hipster white people? I’m surprised I did not find my doppelganger (where are you?!).
Reports from Geese Nation’s discord server (Geesecord) said the first fans got in line in the morning. More showed up in the afternoon. By the time we got there a half hour before doors, the line was down the block. Out in the cold to see a man and a piano.
Inside, sconces line the walls and the chapel’s ceiling stretches to a deep point, with iron lanterns hanging down. I told Geesecord I was wearing a bright green sweater and stood up, hoping someone would see me among the dark pews and I could make a new pal. And it worked! We met up by the entrance after the show. Being part of an online community and getting to meet those people in real life is truly one of the internet’s greatest blessings. Now I have another friend in Texas!
I’ve been fortunate enough to see Geese perform twice, and was therefore super excited to see the kind of energy Cameron Winter would bring to a solo set. He switches the lyrics sometimes and you’re almost guaranteed to get a different melody than the studio recording. This is why Geese Nation has an archivist (s/o Emily!) and also why a live show is vital for a fan to see! I can only assume Cameron’s stage presence was lovely this time as well. Since I was in the middle with many heads to dodge in front of me, only one of my eyes was able to see him at any given time. Thank God I have two.
The whole thing was beautiful start to finish, but there’s only one part I replay again and again in my mind.
At the end of $0, after the God is Real part, he finishes the lyrics and it’s just the piano. The audience was captive the whole time. But now, we held our breath, quiet as the ceiling. The lanterns looked warmer and somehow even the air was soft, like how it feels to stay inside and watch the snow fall. A tear fell down to my neck. And as he hit the final chord, sniffling began around me. Applause broke out and many of us pulled out tissues to wipe our eyes and laugh. “I’m cryin’ right now haha,” someone said behind me.
Cameron debuted a new song called “It’s Being Waited For,” which has a great line about a milkman. For the encore he played my personal favorite, “If You Turn Back Now.” Almost half of the songs were unreleased and yes, the next album is going to rule.
He left the stage to a standing ovation. I left the concert feeling lighter and a little dizzy. Almost two months have passed since then. ICE has ransacked my city and murdered my neighbors, and the illusion of safety has been shattered once again. But whenever the need arises, I can close my eyes and return to that moment when I cried at church with other Cameron Winter fans. And for a moment I remember peace.
Maybe next time I’ll get to see him with both eyes at the same time. Until then, the live recordings will tide me over.
The buckets on my floor filling up with water drip by drip. I’ve already been in one ceiling collapse so if it happens again, it’s a little embarrassing.
Cameron Winter’s “Vines” – particularly struck by the line “Didn’t I say, didn’t I tell you / So long and so often / This house is falling apart / And you don’t give a damn.” The water on my floor, the windows that won’t shut all the way, the burst pipe in the kitchen. I wonder if he wrote this from the perspective of a crumbling building. Or maybe my apartment sent him the lyrics.
Howard Hanson’s Elegy – You’re on a rock by the ocean, watching a storm roll through, and when that one special theme hits (you’ll know which one) the fury clears and leaves you with a glistening peace over the glittering orange and blue water.
Spotify is OUT, analogue is IN. This year, the full-length album has returned to my interests. I used to listen to albums straight through, but ever since around 2015 dropped the practice entirely. Singles and playlists became my norm, and I hadn’t really cared to sit with anyone’s full album since probably Tyler, The Creator’s IGOR. Stale behavior, I know.
Inspired by former Geese member Foster Hudson, I returned to my senses and made an effort to listen to more albums in their entirety and was handsomely rewarded. This year, the one that means the most is of course Cameron Winter’s Heavy Metal. If you’ve read any of my “What I’m Listening To Lately” posts since the spring, you’d already know!
This summer I gathered a decent vinyl set-up (baby’s first turntable) and began the expensive hobby of collecting albums. There are only so many paychecks in a year, but here are the albums that meant the most to me in 2025.
7. Gustav Holst – The Planets [CD not pictured, it was in my car and I didn’t want to go get it. Cold AF out there] (1918) The first performance of this was in 1918. Since then, countless orchestras across time and space have performed this absolute banger orchestral suite. If you’re a fan of King Crimson’s “The Devil’s Triangle,” you’ve already heard some Holst. Listen to Mars before a battle. Listen to Jupiter after you’ve won.
6. Hayden Pedigo – Letting Go (2021) Favorite track: Carthage. My dad used to play a classical guitar when I was a kid, and I’d sit nearby and listen, daydreaming about train travel. His arthritis is too bad to play these days, but hearing Hayden brings me back to that time of peace. I was fortunate enough to see him perform last month, and it’s every bit as restful and restorative as I hoped for. Listen on a nature walk.
5. Nina Simone – I Put a Spell on You (1965) Favorite track: “Tomorrow Is My Turn.” The way she sings reminds me of the Dr. Maya Angelou quote, “One of the things I do when I step up on a stage…I bring everyone who has ever been kind to me with me.” Nina Simone sings with aura. Like anyone who’s ever loved her is in the room. Listen when you know who you want to be.
4. Nick Drake – Bryter Layter (1971) Favorite track: “One of These Things First.” Reminds me of a Kazuo Ishiguro quote, “There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.” Listen when you don’t know who you want to be.
3. Geese – 3D Country (2023) Some of these songs you can sing your lil heart out to, and then sometimes you just have to stare into the distance as you hear “Some people are alone forever.” The whole album feels the way playing pretend did when you were a kid. “St. Elmo” sounds like cowboys in a bar fight, and Domoto sounds like the shift between the fun of daydreams and harsh reality. Listen when you need fresh air, or to feel like a kid again.
2. Geese – Getting Killed (2025) Without explaining myself in any way, this album showed me the effectiveness of a well-written email, and for that I am eternally grateful. As it’s the only album in my list released in 2025, it’s the closest I’ve been able to get to entering modern culture. Listen when you’re lost.
1. Cameron Winter – Heavy Metal (2024) Listen when you’re tired in a way that sleep can’t fix. I’ve scattered praise of this album across the internet and tugged anyone’s sleeves who would let me. Eva you are being insufferable about this damn album. Yes but this time it’s okay. You’d think the 2 essays I wrote about Getting Killed were inspired by Getting Killed. No. I’m only an essayist because of Heavy Metal.
First Listen: May 18, 2025. I stopped playing Spider Solitaire & found my friend in the other room. I knew what to do. I’m an essayist now, too & the drummer & frontman of 2 bands. I take voice lessons & buy myself flowers. A record player’s in the corner – no dust. Yes! I know what to do & have the will to do it. Thank you! – Eva
Hello! The new band I’m in is called Baxter! We like it because it sounds like a very good dog.
Here’s our first demo: For After
Lyrics: Open like a jaw in the morning it’s underground now, the soft down. Your smile, the dining hall, the pattern what you don’t learn the hard way. Miles left before you sleep
Time leaves forever it eats the old clock in the tower, and your broken cup. The armor, the silken veil in marble what you must learn the hard way. Miles left before you sleep left before you sleep.
“It was the perfect day to get killed by Geese,” I say.
My roommate keeps mincing garlic. “That would totally happen to you, to be honest.” Eventually they realize I’m talking about a band, and not a horrible day of bird violence. And it leaves me introspective. So I let the swinging door do its thing behind me and return to my room. We live in an old Victorian mansion that’s been cut up into apartments. Four of us share the kitchen, but we live across a hallway from each other. I hadn’t met them until I moved in.
It’s September 25th, 2025, the day before the release of Geese’s 3rd official album, Getting Killed. I’ve just come from the listening party at Electric Fetus where I stood under a speaker with a pen, the lyrics all printed out and my two bandmates reading along over my shoulders.
“Which song are we on?” Josh had asked. Title track. “What’s with all the feet?” I think it’s a Jesus thing. Don’t worry about it.
Does the music feel crisp and positive, or am I just hearing it through a sky-blue lens? Maybe the marketing team kicked so much ass that they pre-wired my brain to think it sounds like a clear day. Or maybe that was Kenneth Blume. Or maybe that was the point. The lyrics are very Man Vs. Everything as the narrator flops from frying pan to fire. And on top of that, the guitar, bass, and drums keep his heart beating. But with charm!
My room used to be some kind of dining hall or solarium, I can’t remember. It’s divided in two sections by a double-sided fireplace that “probably works” but I’m not going to find out. The sunny half of the room looks like something you’d find in Nancy Drew. Wood-paneled walls, wrought-iron sconces (they all work!) and large windows that creak all the way up to the fancy relief ceiling, where decades of artisan plaster sometimes chip off onto the floor when I sleep. The other half of the room is in the dark.
I moved back to Minneapolis six months ago and these damn boxes are still yucking up the place. I haven’t had time to pare down. There’s an entire corner with paintings soaked in dust, too tall for their bins to close. Mouthfuls of empty canvas, and drawers stuffed with acrylic paint I only touch on moving days. Markers, pencils, watercolor palettes, charcoal sticks and pastels. Everything’s leaning. My art degree rests flat on top of the bookshelf. You can change and still choose me.
Do I really look like I would both enter and lose a battle to a gaggle of geese? American geese? I’m getting out of this gumball machine. The album’s imagery tugs at my love for adventure. Islands & water, movement & stagnancy, feet & horses, death & taxes, love & war, loneliness, religious iconography. Maria. The Virgin Mary? There’s duality in just about everything on a backdrop of clean and spacious sound. How the hell am I supposed to analyze something that’s vague enough to allow for an entire rainfall of interpretations? Cameron Winter repeats more than usual on this album and I wonder what he really means.
I’ll repeat what I say But I’ll never explain So you don’t have to waste your time
Well shit. Shut it down, boys. We’re giving up.
You don’t have to waste your time Hiking up a hundred hills You don’t have to, but I will
So he’ll put in the effort to understand himself? Good for him. Unless he means that it’s futile for even him to understand himself, and will still try anyway. In which case, good for him.
Will it wash your hair clean When your husbands all die Will you know what I mean Will you know what I mean
Dolce. Perhaps the narrator’s talking to spouses left behind as their husbands head to war. The choir-style vocals might suggest many people are asking this question, or that one person asks the question in a way that takes up all his space. Will you know what I mean?
The girls didn’t laugh at my joke. “Oh. Eva. No.” They thought the stupid thing I said was serious. Dumbest thing I could think of too, no way they’d miss it. Those pitying frowns. Yuck. Let me dance away forever. I haven’t seen them in years.
I’m on the way to IKEA for some prettier boxes and the check engine light is on again. I crank up “Trinidad.” There’s a bomb in my car! Hold on now, so the speaker is the bomb in the song (all that screaming, he’s going off bro!), he’s also the car that’ll blow up and also the road whose path is already paved and chosen, horses running him into the ground no matter which island he ends up on. Our narrator is both the road runner and the coyote. Is he chasing his own tail in a perpetual attempt to understand himself? Or is he trying to discover what home means?
My son is in bed / My daughters are dead / My wife’s in the shed / My husband’s burning lead / The rest are force fed or else baked into bread / And nothing’s been said for four and a half days / When that light turns red I’m driving away
We start the album with volcanic anticipation. The bomb doesn’t go off. And the next song is Cobra. But Eva, you must answer the most burning question of Trinidad! What does the title mean? The important thing here is that it’s an island far away from Long Island City, where the album ends. Maybe it’s the Holy Trinity, maybe it’s an inside joke from a late night on Geoguessr. The real question is: Who perpetrated all that violence? Who baked them into bread? The narrator never comes clean, he simply states how things are. So is he really the bomb of the song, or is he a victim trying to escape? No matter how many times I enter this IKEA, I cannot remember how to leave.
You can make the cobras dance / But not me. There’s a short story that goes something like “Why are you surprised by the bite? You knew I was a snake when you picked me up.” Coulda sworn I saw a chalk outline music video for “Cobra” that was the full length of the song one morning. Maybe it was too early to be more than Half Real but I thought it was the official music video. It had no plot, just the same few shots of the band lying in a parking lot getting chalk-outlined over and over. Made no damn sense and pissed me off. Then it made me laugh and I thought it was brilliant, then it pissed me off again. No thesis in sight.
Is the whole album sarcastic? Is it bitter? It has so much dichotomy spilling out of its mouth and yet I must decipher the ingredients based on taste alone. This album is for real Mama Bird-ing me. Maybe I should give up and write a think piece about the futility of trying to understand the heart of another person. About absurdism or whatever the hell Camus was on about. I will never explain. Damn Sisyphus essay! I toss the new storage boxes in the car. I wonder how much stuff I can get rid of.
I finally let go of my 600+ day streak on Duolingo. And last night was my final show with the old band. Next week, I’ll haul my drums to my new band’s practice spot. It’s Josh, Nick and me. We still need a name. The new boxes are easy to assemble, but the six-tiered shelving unit still looks daunting. There’s kitchen stuff I’ll need for my next place and winter coats I’ll take out soon. So much stuff I need later and can’t shed right now.
There’s a horse on my back And I may be stomped flat But my loneliness is gone All my loneliness is gone
If that were true, he wouldn’t have said it like that. Hit his chest like that. It’s been a few years since that psychiatrist asked if I was dating anyone. A sad little laugh escaped me. No, I gave up on that. “Is that okay with you?” No.
I turn on the vacuum and think about the Pink Moon Hike this April. The Landscape Arboretum holds them every full moon. I followed the pink tea lights that lined the pathway around the whole lake. It must’ve taken a week to set up. The other people were shadows in the grass, happy and chatting and glowing and I may be stomped flat. Got back in my car and sank over the steering wheel. There are promises you make to yourself in these times. But my loneliness is gone.
My leg catches for the third time on the same box, no matter where I put the damn thing. Everything is in my way and everything is where I put it. I just need the rest of this room to look as put-together as the bookshelf corner. Things I studied in neat little sections: poetry, Mandarin, Japanese. A different shelf has an abstract I painted called Dance that was inspired by Heaven Official’s Blessing. There was always a hope to be understood in everything I learned. Yearning is cadmium red.
General Smith told me / I would never smile again / He said that I would never smile again, but not to worry / For all people must stop smiling once they get what they’ve been begging for
So he got what he was begging for. I wonder what it was. A dog begging for boiling water on the stove is a real Monkey’s Paw situation. Sometimes you don’t know the reality of what you ask for.
How much does being understood really matter anymore? Emerson said something about this. “Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.” Perhaps I won’t come to a conclusion.
The last tenant was here for ten years, and it looks like it’s been about that long since any of the twenty-two curtains were cleaned. They’re screwed into the window frames, so I can’t just chuck them in the laundry and call it a day. I settle for brushing their teeth with the vacuum. Spring cleaning in October.
I’m getting killed by a pretty good life. That was a Modest Mouse song, too. Maybe Cameron meant it in the same way. “The Good Times are Killing Me.” I hope Getting Killed isn’t about addiction. Nobody likes how that story ends. Ben died from a brain aneurysm and not an overdose, but that’s the kind of thing made more possible by alcoholism. He wanted to visit me in Japan. Today’s his anniversary. It’s been a full year since I was in Kyoto trying not to cry into my Doutor coffee, and later losing it on the steps outside a Vietnamese restaurant. But you can’t write an analysis based on hope.
Like Charlamagne in Vietnam. To my knowledge, the Holy Roman Emperor spelled his name “Charlemagne” and never went to Vietnam. I couldn’t find out if Charlamagne tha God went to Vietnam either. However, I did find the main character in Defiant Comics’ 1994 series Charlemagne. Charles Smith. General Smith told me I would never smile again. The main character left home to find his brother who went MIA in the Vietnam War.
My local comic book shop only has issues #2 and #5 and tells me to call around to the other ones. Am I really gonna hunt down some random comic series just to understand an album that might not even be making a reference to it in the first place? Ben would’ve laughed. I have no idea where I’m going / here I come.
So basically, Charles gets to Vietnam and takes a random bus not knowing where he’s going. He stops smiling when he gets what he was begging for. Lots of the story takes place in NYC and there’s even a villain named Bottom, if that does anything for you.
There are lots of ways to “get killed”. In tarot, the Death card represents change. Heartbreak, burnout, quitting, letting go, changing as a person, changing your perspective. Tarot is full of symbolism, and there are four symbols on all the promo: trumpet, sword, gun, crucifix. Only the gun and the crucifix make their way into the lyrics. The other two are alluded to.
Maria cried out to me, “You can either leave / Or you can stop playing that cowbell with your gun’” / So I say watch out Long Island City, here I come.
If only one thing can be true and he chooses to leave, then he will continue to play that cowbell with his gun. As a drummer, I have it on good authority when I tell you this is an inefficient and dangerous way to play the cowbell. You’ll just have to trust me on this. The bullet could ricochet, the sound of the gun far outdoes the sound of the cowbell, the cowbell is destroyed, and you could injure your bassoonist. There’s really no point to it. So our guy is making things hard for himself, which seems to be the only thing he knows how to do. He insists upon it!
I had a TA in my Introduction to Logic class who started one lesson with “As soon as you learn about ambiguity, you’ll see it everywhere. I’m sorry.” Could the sword on the posters be a double-edged sword? With all the double meanings, that would fit. Even if that’s not the case, nobody would question a sword because they’re super cool 100% of the time. They’re evergreen, baby!
You look green / Like you’ve been / To see islands of men Thought you’d find / What it means / Peace of mind You can’t keep / Womankind / In your dreams You can’t keep / Running away / From what is real / And what is fake
Green with sickness or green with envy? If the person is unable to dream about womankind on the islands of men, then perhaps the recipient of the conversation has more thinking to do. He sings in a gentle way here, like he’s talking to a friend. Maybe he means that womankind can’t stay only in your dreams, you must make it a reality. Transitioning, or discovering you’re not into women.
Nick says it’s too dark in my living room. There are two old-timey sconces and four lamps. It’s not a big room. This should be enough light. The new square one is so bright that it’s uncomfortable to face directly if you’re trying to read or watch TV. Somehow, it is still too dark.
There are so many interpretations of Getting Killed. Through a lens of war, the narrator and his loved one(s) go through mental turmoil and head back home, forever changed. Through a romantic lens, he suffers immensely as he gives his heart freely to those who keep crushing him. Taken from a queer perspective, the speaker could be struggling with sexuality and gender, or talking to someone he loves who is going through a time of significant questioning. Go through the Geese subreddit and you’ll find a dozen more perspectives.
If all these meanings can be supported with evidence from the lyrics, what’s the point of trying to analyze them in the first place? My varied interpretations have a few things in common.
There’s perpetual turmoil within the narrator and the one he’s speaking to.
Death appears as change. Either by killing the parts of himself that hold him down, or allowing them to die so he can face what comes next.
Despite the bullshit, the narrator keeps trying. He courageously struggles through his journey without knowing the end or if what he hopes for is what’s best for him. Is he a dog begging for boiling water? Do you know what it’s like to bow down down down to Maria’s dead bones?
The album begins in a chaotic nightmare. The narrator escapes the car bomb and travels from island to island in a directionless way, moving for moving’s sake. And while so many things happen over the course of 11 songs, he is forced to die over and over until he realizes he has the momentum and the will to set sail on a new journey. Like Charlamagne on the midnight bus / I have no idea where I’m going / Here I come.
I’m supposed to be looking for a coffee table at this consignment store. My eyes land on the perfect thing. A wide table rests in the middle of the furniture section. And on top of that, there’s a footstool. It’s super soft and emerald green, and it’s in the shape of a mushroom! The top comes off and the “stem” is hollowed out for storage. Back home, I place the footstool on the baby pink rug in front of the couch. Ah! That’s it! I wondered how a place with such lovely wooden paneling could feel so cold and sterile. It was simply a lack of whimsy! A few boxes remain, but my shelves look neater and cleaner, and the whole place is warming up. There’s still no coffee table and it’s still too dark in here. But I know what to do next.
Music. It’s what dreams are made of. There’s something strange in the air but let’s not talk about it yet. Things are changing in my life, and here’s what I’ve been listening to while that happens.
VINYL! I have a record player set up now complete with bookshelf speakers, an old Audio-Technica turntable, and an Onkyo receiver. The bookshelf speakers are not resting on the same table as the turntable anymore, worry not. I only have about 10 records, 2 of which are from bands I was in. Vinyl is like $20-40 new though and takes up space, so it’s a highly selective process. You better believe I’ve got Heavy Metal and 3D Country. Torn between preordering Geese’s upcoming Getting Killedor buying it from the merch table at their show. I want a signed copy!
“100 Horses” by Geese – particularly fond of the line “But we have danced for too long / We have danced for far too long and now I must change completely” and yes it’s because of the Winds of Change in my life rn
Bryter Layter and Pink Moon by Nick Drake – Just getting into Nick Drake for the first time. My current favorite is “One of These Things First“.
RadioK.org – I used to work there, and it’s one of the first places I turn to when it’s time to branch out. I requested “For Ella” by Friko but they vetoed it because it was too sad. Fair. Now that I have an actual radio, it’s tuned to 100.7 FM <3 Twin Cities, baby!
Gustav Holst’s “Mars“ – It. Does. Not. Fucking. Miss. Some strange remix was playing at the Electric Fetus, and the store guy said it was “The Devil’s Triangle” by King Crimson. Right on. When it’s time to lose your smile and do what must be done, Mars will give you strength.
