Alan K. Henderson's Weblog

Today's selection is Melissa Manchester's Don't Cry Out Loud, that how-not-to guide for grief counselors.

Here's the start of the refrain:

Don't cry out loud
Just keep it inside, learn how to hide your feelings

Burying one's sorrow completely is just as bad as the opposite extreme of prolonging the pain into chronic bitterness.

The third line seems out of place:

Fly high and proud

Nowhere in the two verses does Manchester give any recipe for flying high - finding joy in the wake of broken dreams.

The last line of the refrain is one of the most heartless things you can say to anyone experiencing tragedy:

And if you should fall, remember you almost had it all

Saying that to a grieving individual doesn't encourage one to stifle feelings. It provokes a nervous breakdown - or a punch in the face. Or both.

Labels: Fisking the Jukebox, Music

Reader Beth Elliott suggests a truly fiskworthy song, Ironic by Alanis Morissette . It is the diametric opposite of Who Moved My Cheese - change is portrayed as always bad, sometimes in a lethal manner. Did this make it into the soundtrack of those Final Destination movies?

Here's the complete lyrics:

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
Its a black fly in your chardonnay
Its a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic... don't you think?

Chorus:
Its like rain on your wedding day
Its a free ride when you've already paid
Its the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought... it figures

Mr. play it safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
Well isn't this nice...
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?

Repeat chorus

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face

A traffic jam when you're already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
Its like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
Its meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?
A little too ironic... and yeah I really do think...

Repeat chorus

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

I am puzzled by the last lines. Life has a way of helping us out? It sounds like life is out to get us.

Labels: Fisking the Jukebox, Music

Today's subject is Freewill by Rush. Here is a live performance of the song.



Note the running clothes dryers on stage - concert tours must not leave a lot of time for doing the laundry.

This song goes wrong by confusing the definition of "free will" - autonomy over one's thoughts and deeds, the ability to act without coercion that impels to do otherwise. Let's look at the chorus:

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide you still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill
I will choose a path that's clear, I will choose freewill

First: people coerce, religious (or secular) belief does not. Paranoia ("phantom fears") does not coerce, either, unless it is rooted in brain chemical imbalances. According to Wikipedia, the "kindness that can kill" refers to socialism - socialist governments do coerce.

Second: the last line is a non sequitur, which brings an entirely new topic into the song. The "path that's clear" reference is relevant not to whether one has the ability to choose, but whether one can recognize the best of available choices. Sometimes the wisest path is hazy, other times it's not but human foolishness chooses another - you see both kinds of freewill at work on Wall Street.

Labels: Fisking the Jukebox, Music

This launches a new meme that looks into annoying song lyrics. It's a target rich environment, and a conventient diversion for whenever I run out of stuff to blog about.

Today's target is Meredith Brooks' Bitch. The chorus is familiar to many (emphasis added):

I'm a bitch
I'm a lover
I'm a child
I'm a mother
I'm a sinner
I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell
I'm you dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

The portions in boldface lose every ounce of male sympathy for the song's persona. She wants him to adapt, to "take me as I am" - but she is completely unwilling to adapt by making herself a better person ("I cant change"). Guys want a woman who feels some measure of regret about her flaws and is willing to grow up, not one who fates herself to a perpetual state of manic depression, nice half the time and hostile, tactless and selfish (qualities that define "bitch") the other half.

Unlike the subject of Sam Kinison's Wild Thing, at least she gets credit for warning the guy that she's a demon from Hell.

Labels: Fisking the Jukebox, Music