Wordsmith Wednesday: Japandroids “Younger Us”

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The words this week appear in the Japandroids song “Younger Us” from their 2012 album Celebration Rock released on Polyvinyl Records.

The lines are:

“Remember that time you were already in bed/
Said ‘fuck it’ got up to drink with me instead”

I remember getting the seven inch this song originally appeared while on summer break back at my parents’ house in the south burbs of Chicago and immediately heading down to the basement record player to spin it. Since then this track has woven itself into my mental fabric, providing the sonic backdrop to Champaign-Urbana nights and the fits of nostalgia that bring back a yearning each Fall for the wide-angle-Future feelings I associate with that time in my life. In these two lines, Brian King provides the perfect emotional snapshot of the transition from adolescence to adulthood, stuck between the bored prudence of maturity and spontaneous stupidity of youth, reaching blindly for one while clutching the strings of the other. These words will always remind me of roaming the streets of Urbana in search of a bus stop or the smothered beat of a house party, semi-cognizant of impending conclusion to this pseud0-reality but choosing the comfort of carelessness instead. This one goes out to my friends struggling keep a passion for life under the tightening stranglehold of social expectation. We’ll always have younger us to remind us to stay crazy forever.

– NR

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Wordsmith Wednesday: The Beatles’ “She Said She Said”

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We are excited to have our words provided by Issue 5 guest editor Grant Garland!

This Wordsmith Wednesday highlights the lyrics of “She Said She Said,” my favorite track from the iconic 1966 album Revolver by The Beatles. Anybody familiar with the Beatles discography can notice the psychedelic tendencies that begin to flourish on Revolver’s fourteen tracks, the well-documented result of the introduction of LSD to the band. The song is a McCartney-Lennon collaboration, John Lennon penning the lyrics after the band famously took acid with actor Peter Fonda in LA, during their tour of America in 1965.

The words themselves are:

She said, “I know what it’s like to be dead.
I know what it is to be sad.”
And she’s making me feel like I’ve never been born

I said, “Who put all those things in your head?
Things that make me feel that I’m mad.
And you’re making me feel like I’ve never been born.”

She said, “You don’t understand what I said.”
I said, “No, no, no, you’re wrong.
When I was a boy everything was right,
Everything was right.”

I said, “Even though you know what you know,
I know that I’m ready to leave
‘Cause you’re making me feel like I’ve never been born.”

As I mentioned, the specific origin of these lyrics is well documented, down to the moment Peter Fonda spoke the opening line to George Harrison, referencing an accidental gunshot wound Fonda suffered as a child. LSD trips aside, the words are about life changing revelations, and perhaps the human tendency to resist such revelations. Lennon changes the “He” to “She” disguising the song as a love song, maybe because love is often the source of many of his revelations. The first stanza sounds to me like a lover, or somebody trusted (those are almost interchangeable in my mind), revealing knowledge of the afterlife to the speaker. “And she’s making me feel like I’ve never been born” says that the speaker feels like they don’t exist, or that knowing the afterlife might make this existence seem meaningless. The second stanza, with its forceful question “Who put all those things in your head?” is the resistance to the revelations being presented. “Things that make me feel that I’m mad,” however, invites an admission of an already present tear in the fabric of the mind. The third stanza is an interaction between the two, a back and forth that reveals the speaker to be nostalgic for childhood, when “everything was right.”

Unpacking this bag one phrase at a time was very eye opening for me. It showed me why it has taken me so long to listen—and I mean really listen—to the Beatles. Everyone in my generation was likely made familiar with the Beatles at a young age (my parents were not fans, I don’t hold a grudge), but it wasn’t until their entire discography was finally made available on Spotify that I found the time to return to it as a young adult. I found that songs like “She Said She Said” suddenly seemed oddly profound to me. Words that used to feel too simple and not provocative enough suddenly struck me somewhere deep down. When I retrace my life—it doesn’t take long, I am young, after all—I can still place the moment that literary writing clicked for me. It was when I finally learned to realize that simple events can often be monumental. I’ve spent the last several years examining the quiet moments that have had profound effect on me. I have resisted many of those moments while they were occurring, attempting to trudge on the same path, to remain the same as I used to be “when I was a boy.”

It probably is no coincidence that as a twenty-seven year old I suddenly relate to words John Lennon wrote at twenty-five. Our experiences were obviously not similar, him likely having these types of conversations and revelations while hiding out from swarms of admirers at a Los Angeles mansion, and me usually having them in the drive-thru at Taco Bell on a Thursday night. But when the song comes on, and I sing the words, I am aware of myself and my longing for some sort that feeling—the feeling I used to get as a child—of everything being right.

– GG

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Wordsmith Wednesday: The Smashing Pumpkins “1979”

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Our Wordsmith Wednesday this week is my favorite verse from The Smashing Pumpkins’ song “1979” off their album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness.

The lines are:

“Justine never knew the rules/
Hung down with the freaks and ghouls/
No apologies ever need be made/
I know you better than you fake it”

Maybe more than any other song, “1979” fills me with nostalgia for the seemingly infinite boredom/freedom of youth, specifically for driving through moonlit midnight cornfields outside Chicago. The casual intimacy in these particular lines brings back memories of crawling around suburbia with my crew of friends that didn’t fit in and the comfort that comes with being accepted among the uncool. No song puts me in my feelings faster.

– NR

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Wordsmith Wednesday: John Mellencamp’s “Jack & Diane”

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This week’s Wordsmith Wednesday spotlights lyrics from John Mellencamp’s “Jack & Diane” originally released in 1982 on his album “American Fool.” The iconic lyrics read:

“Life goes on
long after the thrill
of living is gone”

Wistful and straightforward, these words have woven their way into my emotional fabric just as they have plenty of other Americans. They fill me with a nostalgia for weekend afternoons on the back patio of my childhood home, a yearning to be young again with my girlfriend, and, most of all, the Midwest. They make me miss things I didn’t appreciate enough when I had them, but suggest that I’ll at least continue to experience life even if it lacks some the magic it once held. They let me know I’m getting older. These words just feel very much like the Truth when I hear them.

– NR

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