Woman on the Tier (I'll See You Through)

This song is from the soundtrack to the 1995 movie Dead Man Walking. It is not in the film, however; the soundtrack's subtitle is "Music from and inspired by the motion picture." The director, Tim Robbins, submitted songs from many top songwriters, and while he could not use them all in the film, he felt obliged to release them somehow (also, much of the music in the actual soundtrack is gospel songs and Armenian folksongs... and while they are beautiful, it can be fairly said they had limited commercial appeal versus the work of Vega, Springsteen, Tom Waits, Patti Smith, Eddie Vedder, and country's Johnny Cash, Lyle Lovett, Mary Chapin Carpenter, and Steve Earle).

The film's story is a true one about a Death Row inmate and the nun who tried to save him, or at least his soul, and visited him regularly in prison. (As always, Hollywood put its own spin on the story.)

It is not surprising that Vega was chosen to contribute to the soundtrack, given the industrial sound of her 99.9 Fahrenheit Degrees album and her history of writing songs about mental illness.

The song's title implies that the song is about a woman, and it is-- but most of the imagery is about the prison she visits. It begins by setting the scene of a building that resembles a "tin can," since it is full of metal bars and doors, and frustratingly ventilation-free: "Too hot. No air," even with a "loud fan" stirring up the stifling atmosphere. She is waiting on the "tier," as the title explains, this being one level or story of the prison's architecture.

The song continues with the procedure she follows: "Wait here... They've gone to get your man," the prisoner she is there to see. Then "Through Gate 3 with a picture ID." She hears "the click" of a lock, then "see(s) his face through bar and guard."

She introduces herself to the prisoner by acknowledging the strangeness of their meeting: "You're new to me; I'm new to you." Then, she makes a promise. Although she sees "his fate" as inevitable, she still says "I'll see you through."

Although... she actually says: "I'll see you/ You through," as if stuttering. But "I'll see you" is also a promise for repeated visits, and the emphasis on "you" could imply "I see through you," as in: "Yeah, I see 'these men are hard,' but I know there is a soul in there somewhere."

While the room and building are "too hot," she finds her reception by the prisoner chilly: "Ice within." Is there any clemency forthcoming? No, the powers that be are as firm as the walls of the prison: "it's all cement in the government."

Now the prisoner is being moved to the pre-execution chamber, the "plywood booth where the prisoner's sent." The prisoner sees the "red... letters" on the door of the actual execution chamber. His reaction is to "feel unreal," even as reality is very much all around, even to his "rattling chains."

Lastly, the focus moves back to the woman. She "hear(s) the clock," and knows time has run out, and that the electric switch or poison needle or other form of execution method is about to be used.

It is not uncommon in moments like this for the brain to seek distraction, but all she finds is a blank "green" wall. (As to why it is green, please see the earlier blogpost on Vega's song "Institution Green.") She also noticed that, instead of "bars," there is a "screen" to view the execution through.

She closes with the same words with which she began: "You're new to me; I'm new to you./ I see your fate. I'll see you/ You through." She has kept her promise, and stayed with him until his end.

Lyrically, the song is notable for its use of internal rhyme, which gives the sensation of small rooms and narrow hallways. Starting with no context reflects the disorientation of the nun entering the prison. Also, the imagery does the job, mostly, without Vega telling the listener in so many words how to feel, while trying to have the nun maintain some humanity in all the brutality and bureaucracy of the prison world.


Next Song: Birth-Day (Love Made Real)

Left of Center

This speaker of this song is a teenager, most likely a teenage girl.

The song is from the soundtrack of the 1986 movie Pretty in Pink, considered one of the "Brat Pack" movies of writer-director John Hughes, along with The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, and Some Kind of Wonderful. His other hits include Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Mr. Mom, Weird Science, Home Alone, Planes Trains & Automobiles, and the National Lampoon Vacation series.

Back to the song-- the film is about a disadvantaged young woman who must choose between her equally poor, longtime sweetheart and a new, wealthy-but-sensitive suitor.

The song is about that common adolescent (or, more fairly, human) plaint: not fitting in. It is unclear whether the teen was unusual, and therefore rejected... or the reverse-- she was simply marginalized by her peers for some arbitrary reason, alike them as she was. In any case, she seem to have embraced her marginalized, maverick status.

She declares this standpoint to be "left of center... in the outskirts, in the fringes" of the social circle. She dwells there, and make no attempt to make inroads into the popular group. However, she is not in accessible, in her remote outpost. In fact, the song opens with an invitation, if a begrudging one, to visit: "If you want me/ You can find me" there.

While marginalized, she also keeps tabs on the in-group, a surveillance which they sometimes notice: "They know that/ I'm looking at them." When they do, they challenge her: "What are you looking at?" Naturally, she becomes defensive, and attacks in retaliation: "Nothing much."

She concludes that they presume her to be "out of touch." In fact, she is very aware of the machinations of the in-group. She simply chooses not to participate in them.

She is interested, however, in an individual. The "you" is no longer "you, or any given person listening" but "you, a specific person I mean." As she puts it: “If you want me/ You can find me/ Left of center/ Wondering about you.”

Why does this person pique her interest? She sees that (presumably, but not necessarily) he is a kindred spirit: “We must be similar/ If not the same.”

Even an outsider sometimes feels the need to share the outside with someone. “So I continue/ To be wanting you/ Left of center/ Against the grain.”

It does get lonely, out there in the outskirts. So it's nice to find someone you have something in common with, even if that something is simply being... uncommon.

IMPACT: The song reached #32 on the UK Singles chart, but did not chart in the US. 

Next Song: Tom's Diner