505. Ghosts

The narrator in “Ghosts” tries, unsuccessfully, to appreciate their surroundings before exploding on someone.

Track: “Ghosts”
Album: Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg (1995)

If there’s a song that has survived from Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg, it has to be “Ghosts.” The Mountain Goats Wiki counts fifteen live performances, which is five times more than any other song on the album. I don’t know that it’s the best song on the album, but it’s certainly in the top half. The pitch-corrected version helps somewhat, as John Darnielle’s vocals in deeper tones make the narrator sound a little calmer and, almost, more considerate. That might be too far, but that’s what I get.

I think people like this one because the chorus is easy to understand: “It made me wish I was dead.” There are a handful of Mountain Goats narrators who are more direct than this, but not many of them. This one experiences a black dog that they take to be an evil portent and they experience “a familiar sun” that they say will shine forever in a familiar land, though that familiarity isn’t a positive. By the third verse they’re even calling out the view as terrific and praising the sunshine’s impact on their mood, but it all falls apart. “Five years is a long time,” they say, “and I spent five years in Sweden, dying for you.”

In another song, by another band, this might sound dramatic. It does here, I guess, but not as the word is typically used. People reach for “Ghosts” because so much of this album, and, honestly, the surrounding ones, can feel distant. That distance makes those songs complex, but sometimes you just want to snap back at someone, even when it isn’t fair. Maybe especially when it isn’t fair.

504. Milk Song

The central action in “Milk Song” is extreme and memorable and works beautifully as a response to loss.

Track: “Milk Song”
Album: Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg (1995)

You can see John Darnielle play “Milk Song” in Gothenburg in 2019 here, from someone who has three subscribers on YouTube. It’s a crisp recording and it does the song justice, but it isn’t necessarily essential. You should also hear the pitch-corrected version of it here, which is similar and also really works. To be complete, you can also hear this live version from 2020 in, I believe, the last live, in-person show before the pandemic. The banter there about the experience of having and not having an answering machine is incredible. Don’t take my word for it.

This is one of the two or three best songs on Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg overall and almost certainly the best set of lyrics. Our narrator is pining for someone, as most of these narrators are, but this one tells us more than most of them do. What makes “Milk Song” memorable to me is not the “gradual” vanishing of one figure or the bitterness of the other, but the ridiculous-but-believable destruction of an answering machine in response. This huge gesture, plus the accounting of it as a financial loss, is the kind of thing we laugh at in other people but choose to gloss over in ourselves. Maybe you’ve never literally smashed up a machine in response to a loss and growing bitterness in yourself, but if you search the files in your head long enough I suspect you might find something similar. Maybe don’t look too hard.

503. I Love You. Let’s Light Ourselves on Fire

We hear from a familiar style of narrator in a vulnerable moment in “I Love You. Let’s Light Ourselves on Fire.”

Track: “I Love You. Let’s Light Ourselves on Fire”
Album: Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg (1995)

Of course, there’s the title. What Mountain Goats fan could read “I Love You. Let’s Light Ourselves on Fire” and not need to hear it? If that person exists, they look a lot different than the dozens of people I’ve met over the years at shows and other chance meetings. This title is entrapment, if we are to assume that a “true fan” would avoid listening to Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg, as it isn’t intended to actually exist. Even further, sources disagree on if it has a period or a comma in the middle of the title, which is an interesting, if possibly unimportant, distinction. The song has been played live once, as far as I can find, in 2009 as an introduction in the spot where Darnielle has said he traditionally plays songs that few people are likely to know. That show, where Darnielle described the songs as “fairly obscure,” is worth hearing, though that description tells you that better than I can.

Title aside, this is a special one. The third verse should be the payoff, but it ends in a typical early John Darnielle style with “I saw everyone.” There are certain phrases that John Darnielle loves and a better scholar than I could interrogate their uses over time. He once “apologized” for the extensive use of rhymes like hair / there and while that was a joke, you do see the same things again and again in the early stuff. This doesn’t detract, as it gives the narrators a sense that many of them have the same emotions if not the same Social Security numbers. It’s this part that kills me: “What’s making me take it all too far // you are // you are.”

502. Four New Trees

“Four New Trees” goes one by one through, well, four trees, but doesn’t tell us why.

Track: “Four New Trees”
Album: Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg (1995)

“Four New Trees” is part of the half of Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg that exists only in this recording. Technically, it also exists as a pitch-corrected version which you can, and should, hear here. John Darnielle has said that if you’re going to listen to this album, you should try to find a way to listen to it as it would have eventually been released. That second version is, presumably, what that would sound like. The vocals are better, and definitely more like the John Darnielle you know, but in general it sounds more like an “advanced” version of the same thing. Is that solely because most fans have heard the higher vocals or because the deeper version sounds more like an adult? I can’t say.

“Four New Trees” feels, lyrically, like an old, old song. There is a tendency with unreleased or rare material to elevate it just because of the rarity. You want to, at some level, have your favorite song be something twenty people have heard. Let everyone else love the first track on the most popular album. Those people don’t get it, you tell yourself. That tendency is one that Goths pushes back on consistently as an album, which could open up an argument we don’t have the space to get into. I don’t think “Four New Trees” is one of the hundred best Mountain Goats songs or anything, but I think it’s fascinating in the way the best early songs are when you spend time with them. What do these trees represent? What do we make of the word choice, both gendering the evil tree and the repetition, in general? It’s tempting to guess, but I think it’s mysterious on purpose.

501. Hello, Old Rabbit

“Hello, Old Rabbit” opens up the “lost” album with a narrator telling us a lie in the chorus.

Track: “Hello, Old Rabbit”
Album: Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg (1995)

I told myself I would not include anything from Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg unless I got to the end of this process. The album doesn’t technically exist and wasn’t released, so there’s a strong argument to not even mention it. In 2007 it was leaked online and the band started playing songs from it live again, so it seems like John Darnielle has made his peace with it. If you’re of the opinion that no one should talk about it, I can’t say I blame you.

“Hello, Old Rabbit” is the opening track. The version you’ll hear, usually, isn’t pitch corrected. You can find a version that is, if you look, and you’ll hear something that sounds more like John Darnielle in 1995. You can get lost in semantics here, as neither is “real,” but there’s not a huge difference for this one. I tend to favor the “not correct” version as I’ve been hearing that one for years, but you do you.

In a lot of ways, this just feels like another song from the era. Someone is near some water and someone else beats themselves up while they overanalyze the situation. I really like this song, but I wonder how much of that is the secret nature of it. I was a relatively new fan when it was discovered and I remember wondering if it was “okay” to like it. Darnielle has said consistently that the “lost” and “secret” songs are worse than the official ones and that’s why they’re lost. I think the simplest answer is to enjoy this as more music by the band, but don’t fall into the trap of thinking this is a holy relic.

500. Exegetic Chains

The experience of listening to and loving the Mountain Goats is all there in “Exegetic Chains.”

Track: “Exegetic Chains”
Album: Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020)

“Exegetic Chains” drops all of the structure of the album. There are still references that make it feel “right” with the rest of Songs for Pierre Chuvin (Hercules, Cybele) but it’s about the Mountain Goats, John Darnielle, and the fans of both. Darnielle has said that any references are “there on purpose,” but you don’t really need to hear that to know it. “Make it through this year // if it kills you outright” is “This Year,” clearly, but it’s also directly about the experience of living in 2020. It hasn’t been two full years as of this writing since this album came out. These emotions, these situations, all still feel very real.

Darnielle almost whispers most of “Exegetic Chains.” It’s hard to explain the feeling, here. When you hear him tell the listener to “stay warm inside the ripple // of the Panasonic hum,” he is telling you that you should listen to Songs for Pierre Chuvin, here, in April of 2020, when everything feels uncertain. When you hear “the places where we met to share // our secrets now and then // we will see them again,” he is directly referencing a Mountain Goats concert. This one’s a guess, but I extend this even to “the songs you sing at Christmas time // the stories that you tell” to be about the band’s relationship to fans.

The entire song is intertextual, which explains the title, but it’s not really a puzzle to be solved. You’ll pick up on all this on the first listen. What’s more to the point is this is something people needed to hear, then, and still do, now. The album was a gift, but this, this is something more.

499. Going to Lebanon 2

“Going to Lebanon 2” recalls a song from decades earlier, but it recalls a time much older than that.

Track: “Going to Lebanon 2”
Album: Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020)

There are about a dozen “sequel” Mountain Goats songs. You can generally tell because they explicitly have numbers in the title, usually “2.” It’s probably not something you need me to call out that “Going to Lebanon 2” is the sequel to “Going to Lebanon,” but I do think it’s interesting that both versions have been officially released. In the case of “Insurance Fraud #2” there is no #1, it’s just the second take and the one that the band kept. For “Heel Turn 2,” there is a “Heel Turn 1,” but it’s in many ways an opposite song and a live-only track. We could go on.

The point is, it’s deliberate. The band wants you to associate these two songs. The original suggests a sweetness, with the Bright Mountain Choir singing behind John Darnielle and a more romantic, possibly, interpretation. It’s easy to see that in a lot of those songs with the call-and-response dynamic, but even if that reading isn’t correct, it’s inarguably got a different tone than the second version. “Going to Lebanon 2” seems to follow people who are on the brink of an ending, similar to other narrators across the album. The difference is in what is suggested. The way I read it, the narrators are judging their conquerors for not understanding the value of what they have. “Remember our grandfathers // whenever we need a reason,” suggests holding on to traditions, not looking for gold and silver. Perhaps this is an oversimplification, but I read it as a form of inner rebellion. They may take what they think you value, but they can’t take what actually matters as long as you’re willing to keep it.

498. Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons

The narrators in “Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons” see the writing on the wall and are worried about what it means.

Track: “Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons”
Album: Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020)

You cannot make many sweeping statements about the Mountain Goats without running into contradictions. I want to say that the characters in these songs have become quieter and more introspective over time, but I’m not sure that’s true. I do feel a sense, having listened to the entire history again, song by song, for years now, that the characters have evolved the way we all evolve. As we age, one would hope, we become more aware of our responsibility in situations. The early narrators are angry that people don’t connect with them but the more recent ones start to understand they are part of the problem. There are obviously problems with that thesis, but allow it to me, for a minute.

The narrators across Songs for Pierre Chuvin do not fit into either part of this because they are presented, largely, as blameless. An invading force takes them out. Darnielle’s perspective is to present their last moments and their rebellion before it all goes away. “Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons” finds a plea from the conquered to the conquerors to ask them to show the mercy that they supposedly bring. Further than that, the song demands basic ideas that the new civilization supposedly prides themselves on: beauty, peace, community.

It’s not that these narrators need to be contrite, it’s that the delivery of the song tells us they think this approach might work. At the very least, bluster and open rebellion isn’t an option anymore. Those are easy, even appropriate, responses. But what do you have left when that fails?

497. Hopeful Assassins of Zeno

“Hopeful Assassins of Zeno” sounds like a song from thirty years earlier, but it’s so much more.

Track: “Hopeful Assassins of Zeno”
Album: Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020)

The circumstances that led to Songs for Pierre Chuvin and the style of recording make it feel like an early Mountain Goats album. In the early days, John Darnielle recorded impulsively, at home, and the resulting songs all feel like little miracles. They aren’t all excellent, but the energy behind them elevates the ones that aren’t. It’s not exactly a huge statement to say this newer album sounds like those because it was also recorded in just a few days, at home, but when you hear a song like “Hopeful Assassins of Zeno” the comparison breaks down.

John Darnielle could not write like this as a younger man. That’s no insult, because this is a remarkable set of lyrics and a remarkable song. Some of the very first songs, especially “Going to Alaska,” are among the best, but those felt more like poems because they were, actually, poems. It isn’t that John Darnielle has universally, directionally gotten better. It’s more that he found what worked almost immediately, but has refined it over and over for decades.

“Get familiar with affairs of state // foretell the future // get a pretty good success rate” is a simple set of lines, but you understand this narrator as they say it. Darnielle’s voice is serious, but he allows that to sound like the tiny joke it is. The story here is in the title, but the mood is consistent with the rest of the album. What sets it apart is the evolution from decades ago to today, not the story itself. The characters have always been like this, but now their plights feel just a little larger.

496. January 31, 438

“January 31, 438” imagines that change happens on one day, with a past before it and a future after it.

Track: “January 31, 438”
Album: Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020)

The Codex Theodosianus was published on or about January 31, 438, thus the title of “January 31, 438.” The text was an official collection of laws for Rome, but it was also an official, deliberate attempt to solidify Christianity and to be clear that the days of the pagans were done. Given the source material for Songs for Pierre Chuvin, we can tell all that without needing to go much deeper.

The lyrics show us someone in their desperation, understanding and maybe accepting that they are doomed. The album’s larger context draws the camera back even more to tell us that this is not a personal problem. This is bigger than that. Everyone who is like this narrator is on the way out, which is hammered home on every song on the album. The message is consistent.

What makes “January 31, 438” different is the specificity. I’ve said this before, but I maintain that the thing that makes a Mountain Goats song truly great is specificity. It’s when you know you’re at a specific street corner or in a specific city or dealing with one, undeniable moment, that’s when you feel the electricity. This was a day in history where everything was one way before and was another way after. As we see across the rest of the album it wasn’t really that sudden, but a song being titled like this forces us to imagine how sharp that difference might have felt to an individual person who was confronting what feels, to us, with some distance, like a long, flowing tide.