Two brilliant moments in lyricism, brought to us by Portland, OR:
1. When Courtney Taylor sings the line "I hope he doesn't get too bummed about sleeping on the couch when I'm there" in Bohemian Like You.
It so perfectly paints the picture of emotional decadence that although he's very much into the girl (or guy) that the song is about, he perfectly understands that while he's not around, the object of his affection is going to invite her ex-boyfriend into her bed. I mean, he still lives there, and he pays the rent, so why not? He's not threatened by the guy at all, because how can you threaten the emotional stability of someone so far removed from their emotions? He's like a character out of Ellis or Plath, so utterly convinced by the shroud of cool around his own heart... or maybe he's just being humble.
But I don't think so. Because there's a knowing brilliance to how Taylor leaves the most poignant part of the line for last, after the last bar ends and we're already ascending into the song's euphoric, anthemic brilliance of a refrain: the words "when I'm there." Ordinarily, the object of affection would of course permanently boot the ex-boyfriend out of her bed, leaving him to sleep on the couch until he finds a new place to stay. We think the line will end with Taylor insinuating that he'd prefer the ex keeping his distance from the girl permanently, so as to make room for the budding relationship between her and the song's protagonist.
But no, Taylor (or the protagonist of the song) understands that human physical need is more complex and more simple than that, and if they're still living in the same apartment, they're going to fuck, simple as that. And he doesn't mind. Because he's just that cool. All he asks is that the other guy crash on the couch when Taylor comes around, because, cool as he is, he apparently can't handle the three of them in bed together. Or maybe there's just not enough room, whatever.
2. When Elliott Smith sings the line "And if I went with you, I'd disappoint you too" in Twilight.
Elliott Smith spends the entirety of Twilight confessing his affections and judgements for a girl. He's already involved with someone else, so he knows nothing will come of it. "I'm already somebody's baby," he near-sobs in that fragile mumble of his, and it's understood: if the situation were different, you, for all your faults ("those drugs you take won't make you feel better") would be someone I could give my heart to.
But as always, Smith's true brilliance lay in his ability to hate himself more than anyone else in the world. With the last line before the instrumental verse, he spins the entire premise of the tirade on its head, revealing that he doth protest too much. He's only warding the girl off, using his present beau as an excuse to not have to break one more heart. I'm just trouble, and you should feel lucky I don't love you.
The purity of Smith's self-loathing when he delivers the line is quietly devastating. It's like the last desperate argument of a fight between a couple, when all anger and vitriol has proven worse than useless, and the only thing left is defeat and resignation. "I'm tired of being down, I've got no fight," Smith sings at an earlier point in the song, and as with many a great heartbreak anthem, it sounds all too much as if he's trying to convince himself hardest of all. That girl you just met might just be the next big love of your life, but who cares? It's all gonna end in tears, right?
Right.
1. When Courtney Taylor sings the line "I hope he doesn't get too bummed about sleeping on the couch when I'm there" in Bohemian Like You.
It so perfectly paints the picture of emotional decadence that although he's very much into the girl (or guy) that the song is about, he perfectly understands that while he's not around, the object of his affection is going to invite her ex-boyfriend into her bed. I mean, he still lives there, and he pays the rent, so why not? He's not threatened by the guy at all, because how can you threaten the emotional stability of someone so far removed from their emotions? He's like a character out of Ellis or Plath, so utterly convinced by the shroud of cool around his own heart... or maybe he's just being humble.
But I don't think so. Because there's a knowing brilliance to how Taylor leaves the most poignant part of the line for last, after the last bar ends and we're already ascending into the song's euphoric, anthemic brilliance of a refrain: the words "when I'm there." Ordinarily, the object of affection would of course permanently boot the ex-boyfriend out of her bed, leaving him to sleep on the couch until he finds a new place to stay. We think the line will end with Taylor insinuating that he'd prefer the ex keeping his distance from the girl permanently, so as to make room for the budding relationship between her and the song's protagonist.
But no, Taylor (or the protagonist of the song) understands that human physical need is more complex and more simple than that, and if they're still living in the same apartment, they're going to fuck, simple as that. And he doesn't mind. Because he's just that cool. All he asks is that the other guy crash on the couch when Taylor comes around, because, cool as he is, he apparently can't handle the three of them in bed together. Or maybe there's just not enough room, whatever.
2. When Elliott Smith sings the line "And if I went with you, I'd disappoint you too" in Twilight.
Elliott Smith spends the entirety of Twilight confessing his affections and judgements for a girl. He's already involved with someone else, so he knows nothing will come of it. "I'm already somebody's baby," he near-sobs in that fragile mumble of his, and it's understood: if the situation were different, you, for all your faults ("those drugs you take won't make you feel better") would be someone I could give my heart to.
But as always, Smith's true brilliance lay in his ability to hate himself more than anyone else in the world. With the last line before the instrumental verse, he spins the entire premise of the tirade on its head, revealing that he doth protest too much. He's only warding the girl off, using his present beau as an excuse to not have to break one more heart. I'm just trouble, and you should feel lucky I don't love you.
The purity of Smith's self-loathing when he delivers the line is quietly devastating. It's like the last desperate argument of a fight between a couple, when all anger and vitriol has proven worse than useless, and the only thing left is defeat and resignation. "I'm tired of being down, I've got no fight," Smith sings at an earlier point in the song, and as with many a great heartbreak anthem, it sounds all too much as if he's trying to convince himself hardest of all. That girl you just met might just be the next big love of your life, but who cares? It's all gonna end in tears, right?
Right.
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