Showing posts with label conversation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conversation. Show all posts

Monday, September 12, 2016

Anniversary

This is one of Vega's loveliest songs. It recalls Billy Joel's "Summer, Highland Falls" in the prettiness of its melody juxtaposed with a mellifluous and erudite verbiage.

It begins with idea of feeling nostalgic in the autumn. The weather chills, and you know the year is ending... so you get a bit sentimental, musing on your "memories," jumping from one to another "unrelated histories," and mourning "unresolving fantasies." Even the wind is "thick with ghosts."

This wind "whips around in circuitries," spinning fallen leaves in miniature tornadoes. The wind "carries words as strangers exchange pleasantries." But does "as" mean "the same way that" or "at the same time that"? Depending on which it is, "do they intrude upon your private reveries" could have its "they" refer to the strangers or to their pleasantry-words themselves. Either way, here you are, lost in memory-- when a stray "Hello, there" jolts you back to reality.

The rest of the song is a series of pieces of advice; it's what Vega might say if asked to give a commencement speech at a graduation: Notice people being brave every day. Notice how people find new ways to be nice to each other. Touch objects that will remind you of these things people did.

Also: Note when important things happen, and then celebrate them them every year on that date. Don't plan, now, to later mourn things that will pass; enjoy them while they are here! Make room in your life to do the kinds of things now that you will want to remember later. And "make the time for all your possibilities."

Every verse ends with "each/every corner/street." As you walk along, you will see things. They can either trigger memories and regrets... or offer opportunities to have new experiences. It's the same corner that you turn, the same street you walk.

What can be different is how you see it. But that, of course, is all the difference.

Next Song: The Man Who Played God


Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Neighborhood Girls

This song seems to be linked to the earlier song, "Straight Lines." It also seems to imply that the woman who committed suicide in that song was, or might have been, a prostitute.

Here, we have two people talking about "neighborhood girls." One says that her neighborhood had one, but now, "she's gone."

Then, without having described her beyond her usual place of... business, someone replies (and this reply is the bulk of the song) that they think they "know" that woman.

This person says, in response, that he saw her in the morning and had "eyes of ice," which can mean both a shade called "ice blue," but also that her eyes were cold and devoid of emotion.

He (since the subject is a "girl," I am saying that the response is provided by a man for simplicity's sake) also claims to have spoken to her at a party. She says something enigmatic, which he chalked up to her being inebriated. She said, he recalls, "There's a backbone gone and I've got to get it back before going on." While arch, this comment seems perfectly understandable-- she wants to get her backbone, her resolve and confidence, back... and then move on, probably to another line of work.

The party-goer can be somewhat poetic himself, noting that this woman was "looking out at people from the back of her mind." Usually, the expression, "the back of my mind," means "in the part of my past I don't need to recall much." Here, it seems to mean "in an aloof and detached manner."

She also said she was looking for a "razor's edge" that she had "lost," and would, along with the backbone (to use it?), she would like to regain.

Why? She feels that her life lacks clarity. "I am just walking through the smoke," she says, and "things are going gray."

In what way are a backbone and a razor alike? They form straight lines. And that, above all, is what she is looking for: "I'd like to hear a straight line to help me find my way."

And this phrase is the signal to the listener that this is likely the same woman who is the subject of "Straight Lines." Now we can add this clue to the others. In that song, the woman "cut down on her lovers," because, as a sex worker, she had felt she was seeing too many; here, the party-goer says "She seems to have resigned." We have the "razor's edge" being sought here, and "cold metal" first "touching skin" and then "too close to the bone" there.

(It's also possible that this is the same woman as in "Cracking." There, the woman walks to the park in the "afternoon," and finds the sun blinding; here, the party-goer sees the woman he is speaking of "walking in the sun," albeit in "the morning." Also, that woman "walks a hairline," and so is interested in lines. There is a lot of imagery of cold in "Cracking," and this woman has "eyes of ice,"

Further, the woman in "Undertow" says she wants "to learn all the secrets from the edge of a knife," and could also be the same person.)

The last clue we have is the party-goer's throwaway line, "She had long, black hair." And this is where the connection possibly breaks down.

The first person to speak now speaks again: "Must be a different neighborhood girl/ 'Cause ours had blonde hair." As did the woman in "Straight Lines." The title agrees, since the song is called "Neighborhood Girls," plural. There are at least two.

Except... that woman also had "gone and cut her hair again." Women often change their hair color, as well as its length. Or, given her profession, she may have worn a wig when not working so as to be less recognizable.

Would a detective or judge be able to say with certainty that this was the same person as the suicide? Or that the blonde neighborhood girl the first speaker means is the same person as either of those others? Probably not.

But we know it must be. Otherwise, why bother mentioning it?

Next Song: Left of Center