Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Before They Were MP3s, 1998 - #3: Third Eye Blind - “Third Eye Blind”

Third Eye Blind’s self-titled album is essentially the epic conclusion to the trilogy, “The First Albums I Listened to Obsessively.” In terms of number of nights a CD played while sleeping, 3eb (short for “Third Eye Blind”) is the clear winner, by a long shot. Savage Garden and Duncan Sheik came early in 1998, but once I got to 3eb in late spring or early summer (I forget exactly when), it quickly supplanted its predecessors. I remember memorizing the lyrics, agonizing over which songs were my favorites, and just generally being a rapid fanboy. More than that, this is the first album where I noticed my marked preference for “deep cuts,” for songs that didn’t get radio play. Sure, I liked other songs on “Duncan Sheik” better than “Barely Breathing,” but by the time I got “Third Eye Blind,” it wasn't just a slight preference. I was already sick of “Semi-Charmed Life” and “How’s It Gonna Be?" before I even heard the album. (“Jumper” had yet to hit the airwaves, which would go on to set some sort of world record for overplayed “message” rock.) How did I become a huge fan of a band when I was sick of their two popular songs? I don’t remember exactly, but I think my exposure to the CD came through my brother by way of one of his friends, or possibly our friend Nathan. Either way, it wasn’t long before I saw the light, and learned the key lesson that what you hear on the radio might have little to do with what the band actually sounds like most of the time.

And what about now? The nostalgia value is so high here, that I may not be able to hear the music for what it is, and I’m sure I’ve listened to most of the songs on this CD at least every few months for the last ten years. So that puts it a few tics above the first two already. But I will try to approach it honestly, and admit in those places where what was moving as a teenager feels shallow or hokey to an adult. Without further ado:

“Losing a Whole Year” - Starting now, I’m going to keep track of an albums Heart Break Song Ratio, of the percentage of songs about heart break and failed relationships. So far we are 1/1. Unlike singer Stephan Jenkins, at the time of my exposure to this album, I had never lost a whole year to a doomed relationship. However I had wasted that long or longer on crushes that I should have known would never go anywhere. It would be years until I could see the wisdom in his words, “This drama is a bore, and I don’t wanna play no more.” Still, even past the age of melodrama, I can appreciate this song. The characterization of the girl and her situation is pretty vivid for a rock song, and I can definitely get behind the straightforward rock and roll. Or, as Stephan sings in a later song, “The right three chords can make me cry.”
“Narcolepsy” - I really enjoy this song. The best part is the dichotomy between the quieter verse and the more intense chorus. In the verse, the guitar and vocals are sparse, and the drums are doing some weird off beat thing - always an interesting way to fill space. Everything gets slightly more regular in the prechorus, then drop out and - bam! - fully rocking out. I’m not sure if it is Kevin Corrigan’s work, but something in the guitar parts just speak to me. Maybe Dave Chappelle is right about guitar’s effect on white people. Oh, also, there’s a bridge, which builds in intensity and speed. What more could you ask for?
“Semi-Charmed Life” - Their biggest hit, this one was all over the airwaves, and VH1, and maybe even MTV (I think they still played music videos occasionally in 1998). Thus the world was introduced to Stephan’s quasi-rapping, which I’m actually a fan of. I also, like him, appreciate the irony that the song on the album that got huge radio play is the one that mentions drug abuse and oral sex. Other than the “adult” subject material, the song is just a solid example of shining Pop-Rock, although tipping much more towards the Rock end of the spectrum. A little side note: one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard - yet kind of compelling - was a live version of this song sandwiched between them playing the intro and end of “Stairway to Heaven.” I think this is a fantastic idea. If you have to play your overplayed hit song at your concerts, why not jam in into the middle of a universally beloved Classic Rock song? It’d give the band something to do to prevent brain atrophy, and the audience is guaranteed to like the song anyway. So let’s do more of this. I won’t be satisfied until I hear Semisonic play “Closing Time” sandwiched in the middle of “Freebird.”
“Jumper” - I can still feel psychic waves of hostility toward this song from how much it was overplayed, and it has been almost thirteen years. People were so sick of this song they bruised thumbs hitting the radio dial too quickly when it came on. And admittedly, as songs lamenting suicide go, this is fairly trite. “Everyone’s got to face down the demons / maybe today / you could put the past away.” Not exactly original or inspiring. They’ve got other songs which offer a much more nuanced or flushed out view of teenage problems, or at least songs with more bite. Here I’m thinking of “Slow Motion,” which was sadly stripped of all the interesting lyrics on the album version. Thankfully, the album arrived just in time for digital leaks, so when we do cover the album, you’ll hear about the interesting version. One final thought about “Jumper”: I’m not that crazy about the music either, except for the snare drum, march-like finish. I’ve played that on the snare many a time over the years.
“Graduate” - I’m all right with this song, but it does drift into fairly generic rock for most of the song. On the verses he sings in an interesting rhythm (generally the first two sixteenths of every quarter note), but other than that nothing here really jumps out at me.
“How’s It Gonna Be?” - I remember really liking the scratchy sound that seems accompany the strumming on this song, or is even by itself at the beginning. Not sure just what sound it is; almost sounds like a washboard. Of the radio songs, this is the one I think holds up the best. As far as failing relationship songs go, this one works pretty well for me. He thinks he wants out, it’s no good anymore, but who’s to say whether leaving will lead to anything better? They say negative-negative decisions are the hardest for people to make, and I believe it. And oh yeah, there’s a bridge. It contains the lyrics, “the soft dove of oblivion.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds beautiful in a depressing sort of way. I’m kind of surprised that this is only the second song on the album that is clearly about a failed relationship. 2/6, not bad so far. (But I know it gets worse. A lot worse.)
“Thanks A Lot” - The song is called “Thanks A Lot,” but given that the second verse has this strange and vivid sailing imagery, I think they should have gone with something more nautically themed for the song title. They did a good job picking chords and guitar licks that channel frustration, which helps sell the ironic nature of the chorus (which features the words of the title). Can I just say, though, that “I woke you up and I slit the throat of your confidence” is just a really creepy lyric? A good guitar solo bridge on this one. I never could dislike a song where the guitar is just howling out the travails of its soul. Plus the song finishes really strong, with all parts turning the intensity up to 11. HBSR: 3/7.
“Burning Man” - Having never been to the Burning Man festival, and knowing very little about it, I’m not sure if this song is intentionally referencing the festival or not. But I think it works well enough without it. That is to say, when Stephan sings, “I live my life like a burning man,” I don’t need to go to a huge hedonistic festival to get that existentialism fuels his excesses. This song is one of those songs that feels shallow, that feels like it shouldn’t work, and yet somehow does. But then, it is easy for me to lose myself in good old solid Rock ‘n’ Roll.
“Good For You” - Crank up the angst-o-meter. Thundering chord and drum beat repetition really help drive home the essential pain at the center of this song. I like how it lays back on the verses, though. Also, I like the simplicity of “I grab at you / I can’t stop grabbing at you.” As far as I can tell, this song is about a guy on the outside looking in. Whether he was once on the inside, I’m not sure, but he’s haunted by what could be. So the HBSR ticks up to 4/9. I’m still enjoying it, but honestly this one is almost trying too hard.
“London” - I think this is the only song that I would really call a “dud” on adult reflection. And even then, it isn’t horrible. It just doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the album as well, and while I like the hyper-fast lyrics on the verses, I don’t really get his reticence to go to London. It feels like there’s something missing, like I’m not following it. Also, the music doesn’t really go anywhere, staying at roughly the same intensity and volume throughout. I’m not sure this counts as a heart break or failed relationship song, certainly not in the angsty way.
“I Want You” - This is where we start to hit the ending stretch of “deep cuts” I cherish so much, though not as much as the last three songs (which I listened to probably four times as much as the rest of the album). The guitar plays the same series of notes as he does on “And I can’t get enough,” which I love whenever that happens. The lyrics are vivid and I love the way the distortion of the music sort of swirls around, almost as if it encircles the singer and the woman he is singing to. Let me just share some of my favorite lyrics: “The village churchyard is filled with bones weeping in the grave / A silver lining of clouds shines on people Jesus couldn’t save;” “People always take a step away from what is true / That's why I like you around.” And a whole verse: “After we did it by the window sill / Smoke rings drift into the midnight sky / Presently in the quilt that your mother made / A prayer candle burns to fight off the gloom / I said to live this way is not for the meek / And like a jazz DJ you talk me into sleep / I said there will be no regrets when the worms come / And they shall surely come.” I’m suddenly remembering stumbling upon a web page which had some lyrics from this album, only to discover that it was on a page showing off high school poetry. One of the “honorable mention”s was this kid’s entry which was essentially different lines cribbed from songs off this album and arranged in a random, non-sequitir order. It was kind of funny, although I would have failed that kid so fast it would have made his head spin.
“The Background” - The first of the Mighty Three, the songs I listened to over and over and over and over and over again. The reverb on the guitars and voice makes it sound like the song is coming through water, losing definition and becoming murky in the background. (See what I did there?) This is definitely a heartbreak song, although unusual since from the second verse it sounds like this may be because the woman is in a coma, possibly from too much hard-living. I love all the feeling that comes gushing out of the guitar and the singer, the depths of his pain of separation from the woman. He captures that strange sensation of how when you used to share every new experience with someone and suddenly they are gone, it doesn’t seem right not to be able to share new things with them. The world you created between the two of you is gone, never to be built on again. HBSR: 5/12.
“Motorcycle Drive-By” - The highest artistic triumph on the album. The instrument parts are perfectly layered, and the lyrics are vivid and compelling. The main repeated lyric, “I’ve never been so alone and I’ve / Never been so alive” nails the way we can feel incredibly alive in our suffering, almost as if our capacity for suffering is greater than our capacity for joy. I’m not saying that is true, but it sure feels true sometimes. Then too the idea that, after getting out of a messed up relationship, there’s the feeling of returning to oneself, which I think is also part of the “never been so alive.” At other times he sings of wanting to move on, that he has his own dreams, yet somehow his despair has soured him on everything he used to hope for. “There are things I’d like to do that you don’t believe in; I would like to build something - but you’ll never see it happen.” And how perfect is this for a goodbye to a former lover? “And this is the last time / we’ll be friends again / I’ll get over you / you’ll wonder who I am.” I get that imagery, the way after a broken relationship you may try to be friends for a while, but you know you’ll drift apart, and then you’ll just wonder about the other person from time to time. Don’t get me wrong; I actually believe in people surviving breakups and being friends - after a while. It’s only the people who think they can jump right to friendship who I think are kidding themselves. Anyway, I love the way the song starts out with acoustic guitar picking, builds to this crazy rush of intensity, then dies back down again. It feels like settling back down into an accepted, if slightly depressing reality, but maybe one in which a new direction is possible. HBSR: 6/13.
“God of Wine” - This was my favorite song on the record, by far - as far above “The Background” and “Motorcycle Drive-By” as those songs were above the rest - but now I think “Motorcycle Drive-By” might be the best song. This song is still more visceral, but angst-coated angst with angst filling doesn’t compel me quite as much as it used to. I heard Stephan say that Kevin was just playing this guitar lick and he (Stephan) suddenly got the urge to write lyrics. He more-or-less banged them out on the spot, and voila - one of the best songs on the record. He may sometimes seem like a tool / moron / ego-maniac in interviews I’ve seen, but Stephan is gifted as a lyricist, I will say that much. The electric guitar is the biggest draw here, just screaming sadness. Coupled with him singing, “I can’t keep it all together” over and over, it draws you into a place devoid of hope. “The siren’s song that is madness holds a truth I can’t erase / All alone on your face.” I read that depression is learned helplessness, so it is no coincidence that so many of the saddest songs have such a fatalistic bent. Or, to put it in religious terms, the concept of destiny is only a good thing if you’re one of the elect. This song really piles it on, too. Not only is he left alone and hurt (“crouched down in my room / You let me down, I said it / Now I'm going down, and you're not even around”), he also has to deal with the awful truth that he can’t be what his love needs (“I see you / Searching for something that I could never give you / And there's someone who understands you more than I do / A sadness I can't erase / All alone on your face”). No wonder I loved this at seventeen. Self-doubt and low self-esteem are the hallmarks of the teenage experience, and this song has them in spades. And those are things we all still struggle with, which is why I can continue to identify with the song, even if I won’t let it drag me down as much as it once did. HBSR: 7/14.

So only half of the songs are clearly about heart break and failed relationships? I kind of figured it would be higher. Anyway, there is no doubt in my mind that this album holds up, especially in regard to succeeding at what it aims to be. This isn’t cheeky, glib, hipster music; this is alternative / angst rock, and dang good angst rock at that. There’s a reason this album got me through any number of girl woes. There’s something almost symphonic in the way they pour out their emotions into electric guitar and drums; I was not surprised that a preliminary title for one of their albums was “Symphony of Decay”. The lyrics are great, too: the best of Stephan’s lyrics feel like legitimate poetry, not just words set to music with clumsy rhymes. If anyone has only heard Third Eye Blind’s radio songs, and you are in the mood for some rock that aches with feeling, I think they are well worth a listen. I’m already looking forward to covering “Blue” here (although for the record “Blue” is probably my least favorite album of theirs).

Now that I’ve covered the first three albums I remember listening to obsessively, I’m going to cover the rest of 1998 (and possibly some years before) in a semi-random fashion. Next up: The Wallflower’s “Bringing Down the Horse.” I think this is the first CD I bought with my own money. I’m curious to see if it was money well spent. I can at least say this: the album has sat on the virtual shelves for the vast majority of the time I’ve owned it.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Only a practical comment: When you tally up these songs as "failed relationship song ratio" it makes me feel that the artist somehow failed in their song about a particular relationship. I believe tha you are really just keeping track of how many songs you related to your own life that helped you through your own girl troubles. It could just be semantics, but perhaps something different like "song about failed relationships" or something I'm sure you'd be more creative at coming up with anyways!

Will said...

Updated to "Heart Break Song Ratio"