Before we discuss the lyrics, it should be noted that the skittish shuffle of the rhythm track is one of Vega's finest.
The song is about, as it says, "playing solitaire." It may seem like an odd choice for a song, but recall this is a breakup album, and someone who is recently separated might not be ready to go out just yet, or even want to watch TV (all the shows and movies are about relationships anyway) before going to bed. So, out come the cards.
It's also a great thing to do to focus on something other that that thing you are avoiding, without also having to really focus on it, either. In fact, you can do it while "tired." It will help you "unwind" and relax, too.
Aside from the rules, there are certain strategies and "superstitions" that could help: "Otherwise, you're going to lose." So let's begin... shuffle and deal...
But first, we should note that there are two sides to the game. Finding and making patterns can be fulfilling-- "black on the red, and the red on the black... Jack on the Queen and the 10 on the Jack/ it's a happy repetition."
It can even be empowering: "Take what's wrong and make it go right." Who doesn't yearn for that kind of control (especially when enduring the end of a relationship)?
And then, once you really get into it, "Compulsion makes you listen."
What was that? Oh, just the other side of the coin-- success is addictive, and make you want to try again. Failure makes you try again, too-- no one wants to stop on a down note. So, a compulsion is bred: "Do it again, when you find you're all done... You see, you almost won." Oh, c'mon... one more game!
It starts with "try your luck," and ends with "shuffle up your luck." The game itself is tied to superstition-- how will the thing you are about to attempt turn out? Play solitaire and see-- the game's outcome will predict yours.
This leaves "you and your fate in a kind of check-mate." Who is in control-- your will or random chance? Maybe you can tip the balance with some Divine aid: "weave it like a prayer." Maybe the game itself can help you tap into that chaos and subvert it to your will with Heavenly help.
In basic solitaire, 79% of the time, the game is winnable... but no one wins 79% of the time: "You are your only competition." You could win... but can you? Can you muster the insight, the focus? Can you see the way through the maze of numbers and colors? Or will you run smack into a dead end (that you'll never know if you could have avoided)?
Perhaps the question is a matter of intent. If you don't care, you will most likely lose simply because you aren't mentally present. You have to "wrestle down what you want."
If you don't care, you will lose... but then, you didn't care, so did it matter? Yet, if it didn't matter, why did you bother at all?
On the other hand, you could care a whole lot... and still lose. But then, you'll be crushed. You really tried, and still failed. What does that say about you?
"Wonder if you'll spend the night... playing solitaire." The song's repeated question is a tease, a cruel joke. Before the pause, it's an invitation to a night of "romance." After the pause... oh, for crying out loud, what's on TV?
Sitting all alone with a pack of cards was supposed to help us forget the break-up. Now it's just another metaphor for it: What could I have done to make it work? What chances did I miss? Was the failure in the cards, or was it me?
OK, come one... just one more game.
Next Song: St. Claire
Showing posts with label games. Show all posts
Showing posts with label games. Show all posts
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
Priscilla
Dar Williams has a lovely song called "The Babysitter's Here," about the relationship children develop with those who care for them, whether they are related or not. Williams' babysitter, for instance, was in a play that she went to see.
The speaker here remembers that a woman "20 years older," named Priscilla (the name is only given in the title), used to play with her. It is not made clear if this is a babysitter, but it seems that if it were an older cousin or aunt, that would bear mentioning. Also, it does not say that her parents were there, so it seems they were not. A non-relative tending a child by herself, I think, qualifies as a babysitter.
Mostly, they would dance. Regardless of the type of "music" they played (also not given but also, it seems, not important) it was played "loud." They'd aim a lamp at themselves like a spotlight and perform for an imaginary audience.
Their dance style was "awkward ballet." Priscilla had a proper tutu, "her skirt of layers of chiffon." The child's tutu was more makeshift-- the fabric from a broken umbrella. But they "were in costume/ and this was a game."
And what kid doesn't love an adult willing to be as dance-y as they are?
Priscilla also made the child a paper doll, decked out in ribbons and lace. What a sweet gesture.
Sometimes, communication happens with words. With this babysitter, the connection was through movement: "Something will shine through the body."
It is important for children to have many influences in their lives. Vega is not a dancer as such, yet she felt the need to write a song about a woman she danced with, not the person who taught her to sing or play guitar or write songs.
"I think of her now I'm older/ I still love to dance," she says. She might have grown out of her dance-y ways... unless she had seen, as a child, another grown-up still dance in the hallway. And give her permission to still dance, 20 years and more later.
Next Song: If I Were a Weapon
The speaker here remembers that a woman "20 years older," named Priscilla (the name is only given in the title), used to play with her. It is not made clear if this is a babysitter, but it seems that if it were an older cousin or aunt, that would bear mentioning. Also, it does not say that her parents were there, so it seems they were not. A non-relative tending a child by herself, I think, qualifies as a babysitter.
Mostly, they would dance. Regardless of the type of "music" they played (also not given but also, it seems, not important) it was played "loud." They'd aim a lamp at themselves like a spotlight and perform for an imaginary audience.
Their dance style was "awkward ballet." Priscilla had a proper tutu, "her skirt of layers of chiffon." The child's tutu was more makeshift-- the fabric from a broken umbrella. But they "were in costume/ and this was a game."
And what kid doesn't love an adult willing to be as dance-y as they are?
Priscilla also made the child a paper doll, decked out in ribbons and lace. What a sweet gesture.
Sometimes, communication happens with words. With this babysitter, the connection was through movement: "Something will shine through the body."
It is important for children to have many influences in their lives. Vega is not a dancer as such, yet she felt the need to write a song about a woman she danced with, not the person who taught her to sing or play guitar or write songs.
"I think of her now I'm older/ I still love to dance," she says. She might have grown out of her dance-y ways... unless she had seen, as a child, another grown-up still dance in the hallway. And give her permission to still dance, 20 years and more later.
Next Song: If I Were a Weapon
Monday, January 25, 2016
No Cheap Thrill
The song is replete with gambling metaphors. The idea is that a relationship is like a poker game (this was decades before Lady Gaga's "Poker Face," but not necessarily the first song to use gambling as a stand-in for relationships.)
"Ante up," the speaker beckons, meaning to say you want to play by putting some of what you have at stake. She then asks you-- whom she just asked to play!-- about some other guy, one with a "deadpan" (or expressionless) face and a "criminal grace."
He is "sitting so pretty," which means he is attractive simply by sitting there, but to "be sitting pretty" as an expression means to be at an advantage or already winning.
Next, she surveys the other potential players for her attention. One is an idiot nicknamed "Lamebrain." He "wants to spit in the sea." This is the name of a poker variant, but "spit in the ocean" also means "not very much, considering what else is around" (compare to "a drop in the bucket").
He's got a "cool hand," she says, which is to say his poker hand is better than average, and that in relationships he is skilled but not emotionally involved. But no, "it isn't for me." Also, there is the movie Cool Hand Luke, about a ne'er-do-well who seems laconic but underneath has a will of iron.
Also dismissible is "Butcher Boy," who sounds both young and violent-- is he a hitman? He thinks he'll be "splitting the pot," or sharing the winnings-- and spending at least some time with her-- but she has been down that road before: "I've seen what he's got, and it isn't a lot." This is a reference to his weak poker hand... but also the small size of his... um, anyway...
Then there is a parenthetical couplet. It is in the lyric sheet, but is not performed in the actual recording: "When deuces are wild, you can follow the queen/ I'd go too, except I know where she's been."
In cards, "deuces" are twos. So, when couples are "wild"-- perhaps a reference to swinging?-- they might "follow the queen." A queen, of course, is a face card in every deck, but in slang a "queen" is either a homosexual or possibly a "drag queen," a transvestite. So a "wild" couple might "follow" a third such partner. But in the speaker's case, she knows this queen is promiscuous to the point of possibly having an STD.
The speaker says she will "limit the straddles." In poker, a straddle is a side bet made on a hand. As these can be distracting, some dealers try to discourage them. As a sexual metaphor, "straddle" has another (I hope obvious) meaning, so she is saying that at this point in a relationship, she does not have much sex.
So! It seems, at least, she has settled on the subject of the song, after saying no to Mr. Deadpan, Lamebrain and Butcher Boy.
While she keeps physical contact to a minimum, the subject is understandably off guard-- "Wait, you're interested now?" Defensively, he "shuffles" and "deals." While these words have well-known meanings in card games-- to randomize and distribute the cards-- he is hemming, hawing, shuffling his feet, shifting in his chair... and negotiating to get closer to her.
Then she asks "When will the dealer reveal how he feels?" So... there is yet another character? Or is the subject also the dealer, since in the last line, she said he "deals"? I think that his lame attempt at trying to maintain his suavity is actually a pretty big tell, as far as tipping his emotional hand.
Alas, she does not seem to find his Hugh Grant-like schoolboy stammerings to be charming. "Is the lucky beginner just a five-card stud?" she wonders, ruefully? Five-card stud is yet another poker variant (there seems to be an infinite number of these) but her biggest peeve so far is that the other men put on a show, then can't pay off. And now it looks to her like this is yet another potential disappointment, date-wise: "Is this winning streak going to be nipped in the bud?"
That last expression is botanical, not poker-related (there are not that many rhymes for "stud") but it means the flower will not only never blossom, it will be cut from the stem before it even has the chance to find out if it would.
Maybe she is hoping the subject, if he is berated enough, will step up his game and rise to the challenge. Or maybe she is letting him down quick so he doesn't get his hopes up.
The chorus is also full of poker-related verbs. "I'll see you" or "call you" mean to bet as much as the last bettor, while "raise" is to bet more. But in relationships, to "see" means to date, to "call" simply means to telephone, and to "raise"... well, that's not generally a verb used in that context. It used to mean, in the context of telephoning, actually having reached and spoken to someone as opposed to simply having dialed the number ("I've phoned several times, but I haven't raised her yet.").
In the last chorus, it changes to "I'll play you," which means both "I'll play (against) you in poker" and "I'll play you for a fool."
Yes, she will do these things, "but it's no cheap thrill." She is a high-maintenance person, as they say, both in terms of having expensive tastes and being emotionally needy. "It'll cost you, cost you, cost you," she repeats, explaining that these needs of hers are not just initial but ongoing.
The speaker is savvy, worldly, sharp... hard to impress, and easy to bore. What she's trying to say is that she is way out of your league; she's already looking at other men as she's talking to you, and she's already been-there-done-that with half of the guys in the room. You're never going to satiate her, and you'll go broke trying.
Dude, you're not going to win this one. Get the heck away from her, before you're just another loser she's given a cruel nickname to.
Next Song: World Before Columbus
"Ante up," the speaker beckons, meaning to say you want to play by putting some of what you have at stake. She then asks you-- whom she just asked to play!-- about some other guy, one with a "deadpan" (or expressionless) face and a "criminal grace."
He is "sitting so pretty," which means he is attractive simply by sitting there, but to "be sitting pretty" as an expression means to be at an advantage or already winning.
Next, she surveys the other potential players for her attention. One is an idiot nicknamed "Lamebrain." He "wants to spit in the sea." This is the name of a poker variant, but "spit in the ocean" also means "not very much, considering what else is around" (compare to "a drop in the bucket").
He's got a "cool hand," she says, which is to say his poker hand is better than average, and that in relationships he is skilled but not emotionally involved. But no, "it isn't for me." Also, there is the movie Cool Hand Luke, about a ne'er-do-well who seems laconic but underneath has a will of iron.
Also dismissible is "Butcher Boy," who sounds both young and violent-- is he a hitman? He thinks he'll be "splitting the pot," or sharing the winnings-- and spending at least some time with her-- but she has been down that road before: "I've seen what he's got, and it isn't a lot." This is a reference to his weak poker hand... but also the small size of his... um, anyway...
Then there is a parenthetical couplet. It is in the lyric sheet, but is not performed in the actual recording: "When deuces are wild, you can follow the queen/ I'd go too, except I know where she's been."
In cards, "deuces" are twos. So, when couples are "wild"-- perhaps a reference to swinging?-- they might "follow the queen." A queen, of course, is a face card in every deck, but in slang a "queen" is either a homosexual or possibly a "drag queen," a transvestite. So a "wild" couple might "follow" a third such partner. But in the speaker's case, she knows this queen is promiscuous to the point of possibly having an STD.
The speaker says she will "limit the straddles." In poker, a straddle is a side bet made on a hand. As these can be distracting, some dealers try to discourage them. As a sexual metaphor, "straddle" has another (I hope obvious) meaning, so she is saying that at this point in a relationship, she does not have much sex.
So! It seems, at least, she has settled on the subject of the song, after saying no to Mr. Deadpan, Lamebrain and Butcher Boy.
While she keeps physical contact to a minimum, the subject is understandably off guard-- "Wait, you're interested now?" Defensively, he "shuffles" and "deals." While these words have well-known meanings in card games-- to randomize and distribute the cards-- he is hemming, hawing, shuffling his feet, shifting in his chair... and negotiating to get closer to her.
Then she asks "When will the dealer reveal how he feels?" So... there is yet another character? Or is the subject also the dealer, since in the last line, she said he "deals"? I think that his lame attempt at trying to maintain his suavity is actually a pretty big tell, as far as tipping his emotional hand.
Alas, she does not seem to find his Hugh Grant-like schoolboy stammerings to be charming. "Is the lucky beginner just a five-card stud?" she wonders, ruefully? Five-card stud is yet another poker variant (there seems to be an infinite number of these) but her biggest peeve so far is that the other men put on a show, then can't pay off. And now it looks to her like this is yet another potential disappointment, date-wise: "Is this winning streak going to be nipped in the bud?"
That last expression is botanical, not poker-related (there are not that many rhymes for "stud") but it means the flower will not only never blossom, it will be cut from the stem before it even has the chance to find out if it would.
Maybe she is hoping the subject, if he is berated enough, will step up his game and rise to the challenge. Or maybe she is letting him down quick so he doesn't get his hopes up.
The chorus is also full of poker-related verbs. "I'll see you" or "call you" mean to bet as much as the last bettor, while "raise" is to bet more. But in relationships, to "see" means to date, to "call" simply means to telephone, and to "raise"... well, that's not generally a verb used in that context. It used to mean, in the context of telephoning, actually having reached and spoken to someone as opposed to simply having dialed the number ("I've phoned several times, but I haven't raised her yet.").
In the last chorus, it changes to "I'll play you," which means both "I'll play (against) you in poker" and "I'll play you for a fool."
Yes, she will do these things, "but it's no cheap thrill." She is a high-maintenance person, as they say, both in terms of having expensive tastes and being emotionally needy. "It'll cost you, cost you, cost you," she repeats, explaining that these needs of hers are not just initial but ongoing.
The speaker is savvy, worldly, sharp... hard to impress, and easy to bore. What she's trying to say is that she is way out of your league; she's already looking at other men as she's talking to you, and she's already been-there-done-that with half of the guys in the room. You're never going to satiate her, and you'll go broke trying.
Dude, you're not going to win this one. Get the heck away from her, before you're just another loser she's given a cruel nickname to.
Next Song: World Before Columbus
Monday, November 30, 2015
Song of Sand
This song is reminiscent of Sting's "Fragile" in three ways: It is short, it has a sparse acoustic arrangement, and it is anti-war. At least, the second verse of this one is.
Oh, also-- both mention "rain" that has not fallen yet, and the idea that blood leaves a "stain."
The first verse is set somewhere sandy-- perhaps a desert or beach-- presumably with sine wave-shaped dunes. She calls these "sand waves." To the speaker, they look like sound waves, and so she imagines what "song" they would make, if in fact they were that.
She would want it to be a "stinging" tune, something sharp and piercing. This seems at odds with the usually smooth, rounded shape one associates with sand dunes. So why does she want something honed to a point?
So it "Could split this endless noon/ And make the sky swell with rain." The heat is so endless, relentless, and intense, that it has felt as hot as noon all day. Wouldn't it be nice if the sky were to somehow be spit open so that the rain could fall and cool everyone off?
This hope for rain makes it more likely, then, that we are in the desert. At the beach, one could just run into the actual water waves and get refreshed.
It's also interesting to note that this verse is comprised of two, if related, questions. The second verse is, grammatically, all one question.
Aside from the opening "if," the second verse seems to have nothing to do with the first. This is where the anti-war message is offered.
"If war were a game" that were winnable... the implication is that it is not. Even winning costs a great deal of human life and pain. And today's wars, especially, are not fought with other nations who can surrender or sign treaties, but with amorphous, hydra-like organizations that feed on grudges and resentment. They never lose (even if they never can win), because as long as they keep fighting, the "war" is still on, in their minds.
Oh, also-- both mention "rain" that has not fallen yet, and the idea that blood leaves a "stain."
The first verse is set somewhere sandy-- perhaps a desert or beach-- presumably with sine wave-shaped dunes. She calls these "sand waves." To the speaker, they look like sound waves, and so she imagines what "song" they would make, if in fact they were that.
She would want it to be a "stinging" tune, something sharp and piercing. This seems at odds with the usually smooth, rounded shape one associates with sand dunes. So why does she want something honed to a point?
So it "Could split this endless noon/ And make the sky swell with rain." The heat is so endless, relentless, and intense, that it has felt as hot as noon all day. Wouldn't it be nice if the sky were to somehow be spit open so that the rain could fall and cool everyone off?
This hope for rain makes it more likely, then, that we are in the desert. At the beach, one could just run into the actual water waves and get refreshed.
It's also interesting to note that this verse is comprised of two, if related, questions. The second verse is, grammatically, all one question.
Aside from the opening "if," the second verse seems to have nothing to do with the first. This is where the anti-war message is offered.
"If war were a game" that were winnable... the implication is that it is not. Even winning costs a great deal of human life and pain. And today's wars, especially, are not fought with other nations who can surrender or sign treaties, but with amorphous, hydra-like organizations that feed on grudges and resentment. They never lose (even if they never can win), because as long as they keep fighting, the "war" is still on, in their minds.
But, if there was such a "game"-- and games have rules, yes?-- then "What kind of rule/ Can overthrow a fool" (presumably, the enemy) bloodlessly? The idea is to win but "leave the land with no stain."
That would be a useful rule, indeed. The bloodless revolution is always preferable. Diplomacy, pressure, economic sanctions-- there are many alternatives to war that can achieve the same results, with much less loss of life.
As the war-gaming computer Joshua learns in the movie WarGames, "the only winning move is not to play." Unfortunately, war is often not a game that one can choose not to play. The speaker knows this, which is is why she begins with "if."
One interesting word is "child." She asks about a child winning a war, which is odd because even in those horrifying cases in which children are made the take up arms, they generally are not running the war and certainly did not start it. Perhaps she means that only a child-like person sees war as a game, and a winnable one at that.
The song is pretty, but not cohesive. The first verse wonders: if sand waves were made audible, could they produce a song that would call forth rain from a cloudless sky? The second asks: What if there were a rule of war-- assuming that war was a game, and a winnable one at that-- that could automatically make the opponent step down from power without a fight?
These are interesting questions, but not related. It seems as if the producer said that there were a few more minutes on the CD, and would Vega like to put something there? And she looked in her notebook and said, "Well, I have these two ideas. I'm not sure they are a song, though, together." And the producer said, "Why don't you sing them and we'll see?" And they were pretty enough, and now here they are... or it is.
As to which war is meant...? This album was released in 1992. The Gulf War took place the year before. In 1992 itself, there were wars in Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, Croatia, Georgia (the country), and Afghanistan, as well as unrest in Iraq. It is too hard, sadly, to say which-- if any specific-- war Vega was thinking of, or which "fool" she was hoping was to be deposed; many of these wars involved a brutal dictator, in which he was attacking a weaker neighbor or his own citizens.
The song seems a somewhat haphazard way to end the disc, even if the song did recall her earlier albums. Which she already did with "Blood Sings," a much stronger and cohesive song.
The song also calls to mind two other tiny songs. One is "Song for the Asking," the last song on Bridge Over Troubled Water, itself the last Simon and Garfunkel album. The other is "Her Majesty," a cute ditty that ends Let It Be, itself (by some lights) the last Beatles album. It's sort of a song to send you out the door, with a parting thought.
Next Song: Woman on the Tier
That would be a useful rule, indeed. The bloodless revolution is always preferable. Diplomacy, pressure, economic sanctions-- there are many alternatives to war that can achieve the same results, with much less loss of life.
As the war-gaming computer Joshua learns in the movie WarGames, "the only winning move is not to play." Unfortunately, war is often not a game that one can choose not to play. The speaker knows this, which is is why she begins with "if."
One interesting word is "child." She asks about a child winning a war, which is odd because even in those horrifying cases in which children are made the take up arms, they generally are not running the war and certainly did not start it. Perhaps she means that only a child-like person sees war as a game, and a winnable one at that.
The song is pretty, but not cohesive. The first verse wonders: if sand waves were made audible, could they produce a song that would call forth rain from a cloudless sky? The second asks: What if there were a rule of war-- assuming that war was a game, and a winnable one at that-- that could automatically make the opponent step down from power without a fight?
These are interesting questions, but not related. It seems as if the producer said that there were a few more minutes on the CD, and would Vega like to put something there? And she looked in her notebook and said, "Well, I have these two ideas. I'm not sure they are a song, though, together." And the producer said, "Why don't you sing them and we'll see?" And they were pretty enough, and now here they are... or it is.
As to which war is meant...? This album was released in 1992. The Gulf War took place the year before. In 1992 itself, there were wars in Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, Croatia, Georgia (the country), and Afghanistan, as well as unrest in Iraq. It is too hard, sadly, to say which-- if any specific-- war Vega was thinking of, or which "fool" she was hoping was to be deposed; many of these wars involved a brutal dictator, in which he was attacking a weaker neighbor or his own citizens.
The song seems a somewhat haphazard way to end the disc, even if the song did recall her earlier albums. Which she already did with "Blood Sings," a much stronger and cohesive song.
The song also calls to mind two other tiny songs. One is "Song for the Asking," the last song on Bridge Over Troubled Water, itself the last Simon and Garfunkel album. The other is "Her Majesty," a cute ditty that ends Let It Be, itself (by some lights) the last Beatles album. It's sort of a song to send you out the door, with a parting thought.
Next Song: Woman on the Tier
Monday, February 9, 2015
Freeze Tag
This second song seems a continuation of-- or companion piece to-- the first, "Cracking." It, too, takes place in "wintertime," and while the first detailed a solitary walk to the "park," this one is about a couple going to "the playground."
First, a note to those unfamiliar with American childhood games of the mid- to late 20th Century. Freeze tag is a variation on regular tag. In this version, the tagger-- dubbed "It"-- chases the other children, but when she tags them, they "freeze," and become rooted to the spot, disallowed from running further. When all the other participants are tagged and "frozen," the last becomes the new "It," everyone "unfreezes," and the chase begins again. Children continue to be endlessly inventive with new variations, which leads them to discover the true fun of any game-- arguing about the rules!
Narratively, the song presents a paradox. This couple goes to the playground for some childlike fun, and to revel in their romance in which they are as open and innocent as children. However, once they imagine themselves as children, what do they imagine themselves doing? Pretending to be adults.
The couple goes to the playground as "the sun is fading fast," symbolizing the end of their youth, which they are there to try to recapture. I am reminded of a tradition my high-school sweetheart and I developed, which was to see every new and re-released Disney movie in the theater. We loved them as children, felt "too big" for them as grade-schoolers, and now wanted to enjoy them again as we approached adulthood and wallow in comforting nostalgia.
Such behaviors Vega depicts, using playground imagery, as "slides into the past"-- it's so easy to slip into the soothing familiarities of childhood-- and the ambivalent "swings of indecision" that make us waver between retreat there and advancement into exciting, yet frightening, maturity.
The "dimming diamonds" are likely the glints of light off the snow, now fading as the sunlight does.
The "tickling and trembling" refer to the touches freeze-tag players employ to immobilize each other, and the shivering with both cold-- real and game-imagined-- and with the anticipation of these flirtatious touches.
Now that it is dark, they "play" another game. This is a pun. They are playing at being actors, who in turn "play" roles in films. The night is as dark as in a movie hall. She first pretends to be Marlene Dietrich, and he the tragically fallen James Dean. Then they shift into a more noir mode: "You stand/ With your hand/ In your pocket/ And lean against the wall." Appropriately, they now imagine themselves as Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, major stars of such dramatically fraught, angst-ridden films.
By pretending to be others, they can be more freely themselves (Vega returns to the imagery of romantic role play in her later song "If You Were in My Movie"). And so they become more physically intimate: "We can only say 'yes' now/ To the sky, to the street, to the night." As the sunlight vanishes entirely, their movie end the way movies do: "Slow fade now to black."
But then another starts, one in which they are hero and heroine in a Camelot-based scenario: "Play me one more game of chivalry."
The songs lyrics end with another childhood game: "Do you see/ Where I've been hiding/ In his hide-and-seek?" She calls attention to the fact that she has been revealing aspects of herself through the choices of roles she has adopted. She is like Dietrich in this way, like Bacall in these other ways, like Maid Marian or Guinevere in still more. And she wants to know if he has picked up on this, and knows her better now. In a sense, a mask is a truer face.
The song's imagery revolves around childhood games, but the message is both adult and serious. The only reason a freeze-tag player holds still is that she is obeying the rules. Nothing is actually, physically holding her still.
How like life that is, Vega observes. What is holding them back from embracing adulthood, with all of its amazing freedoms and overwhelming responsibilities? What is keeping our lovers from embracing each other, physically and emotionally? Nothing that does not exist entirely in their own minds, and those others involved in their societal games.
The sun is fading fast. Now, they get to see what they look like in the dark.
Next Song: Marlene on the Wall
First, a note to those unfamiliar with American childhood games of the mid- to late 20th Century. Freeze tag is a variation on regular tag. In this version, the tagger-- dubbed "It"-- chases the other children, but when she tags them, they "freeze," and become rooted to the spot, disallowed from running further. When all the other participants are tagged and "frozen," the last becomes the new "It," everyone "unfreezes," and the chase begins again. Children continue to be endlessly inventive with new variations, which leads them to discover the true fun of any game-- arguing about the rules!
Narratively, the song presents a paradox. This couple goes to the playground for some childlike fun, and to revel in their romance in which they are as open and innocent as children. However, once they imagine themselves as children, what do they imagine themselves doing? Pretending to be adults.
The couple goes to the playground as "the sun is fading fast," symbolizing the end of their youth, which they are there to try to recapture. I am reminded of a tradition my high-school sweetheart and I developed, which was to see every new and re-released Disney movie in the theater. We loved them as children, felt "too big" for them as grade-schoolers, and now wanted to enjoy them again as we approached adulthood and wallow in comforting nostalgia.
Such behaviors Vega depicts, using playground imagery, as "slides into the past"-- it's so easy to slip into the soothing familiarities of childhood-- and the ambivalent "swings of indecision" that make us waver between retreat there and advancement into exciting, yet frightening, maturity.
The "dimming diamonds" are likely the glints of light off the snow, now fading as the sunlight does.
The "tickling and trembling" refer to the touches freeze-tag players employ to immobilize each other, and the shivering with both cold-- real and game-imagined-- and with the anticipation of these flirtatious touches.
Now that it is dark, they "play" another game. This is a pun. They are playing at being actors, who in turn "play" roles in films. The night is as dark as in a movie hall. She first pretends to be Marlene Dietrich, and he the tragically fallen James Dean. Then they shift into a more noir mode: "You stand/ With your hand/ In your pocket/ And lean against the wall." Appropriately, they now imagine themselves as Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, major stars of such dramatically fraught, angst-ridden films.
By pretending to be others, they can be more freely themselves (Vega returns to the imagery of romantic role play in her later song "If You Were in My Movie"). And so they become more physically intimate: "We can only say 'yes' now/ To the sky, to the street, to the night." As the sunlight vanishes entirely, their movie end the way movies do: "Slow fade now to black."
But then another starts, one in which they are hero and heroine in a Camelot-based scenario: "Play me one more game of chivalry."
The songs lyrics end with another childhood game: "Do you see/ Where I've been hiding/ In his hide-and-seek?" She calls attention to the fact that she has been revealing aspects of herself through the choices of roles she has adopted. She is like Dietrich in this way, like Bacall in these other ways, like Maid Marian or Guinevere in still more. And she wants to know if he has picked up on this, and knows her better now. In a sense, a mask is a truer face.
The song's imagery revolves around childhood games, but the message is both adult and serious. The only reason a freeze-tag player holds still is that she is obeying the rules. Nothing is actually, physically holding her still.
How like life that is, Vega observes. What is holding them back from embracing adulthood, with all of its amazing freedoms and overwhelming responsibilities? What is keeping our lovers from embracing each other, physically and emotionally? Nothing that does not exist entirely in their own minds, and those others involved in their societal games.
The sun is fading fast. Now, they get to see what they look like in the dark.
Next Song: Marlene on the Wall
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