180. An Inscription at Salonae

 

A narrator makes a hard choice and lives with it among a deceptive setting in “An Inscription at Salonae.”

Track: “An Inscription at Salonae”
Album: Jack and Faye (Unreleased, recorded 1995 or 1996)

Jack and Faye is a four-song, unreleased EP from the final days of the John Darnielle and Rachel Ware Mountain Goats. All four songs feature one person talking to another person about a shared past. It’s probably not intentional, but it’s a fitting way for the original Mountain Goats lineup to end their time together.

Salona was a city in ancient Rome and is located in modern-day Croatia. The characters from “An Inscription at Salonae” live there, thousands of years ago, and are involved in some heavy activity. The song opens peacefully enough with images of women playing tambourines and men blowing trumpets. The song has a bouncy feel to it that suggests this might be a feast or a party, but the lyrics quickly depart from the tone of the song.

The narrator repeatedly mentions that they are “falling to pieces.” The source of their strife becomes clear with mention of “a young man on the altar” that they are poised above. One person watches from the crowd as the other makes a hard choice above a child on an altar. We can assume what happens.

John Darnielle loves to spend time in unfamiliar settings. Ancient times come up a lot, since we can quickly relate to other humans but struggle to contextualize their limited understanding of the world. This interaction is a brutal one, most likely, and the narrator says “it was not that long ago // but the memory’s kinda dying out, you know.” We can take that to mean that this isn’t someone to root for, but it seems more likely that this is  compartmentalization. The inscription in the title is on a headstone and though death was more part of daily life in Salona than now, we all still have to process the unprocessable.

 

085. There Will Always Be an Ireland

“There Will Always Be an Ireland” has multiple interpretations, but it’s always about a quiet moment between two people.

Track: “There Will Always Be an Ireland”
Album: Jack and Faye (Unreleased, recorded 1995 or 1996)

Jack and Faye was never released, but it was released online and can still be downloaded. The album consists of four songs with John Darnielle on guitar and Rachel Ware on bass. The album is also the last full release with Rachel on bass before Peter Hughes took over full time, so it acts as a turning point in the band’s history. John and Rachel have said that “time has given [the songs] a somewhat melancholy air,” and you can take from that what you will.

The bulk of the song is a repetition of the song’s title and given the different inflections it sounds alternatively sweet and insistent. You can take it to be a revolutionary ballad referencing the struggle against foreign rule or you can depoliticize it and view it as a love song; the fervor works either way. The first verse sets up two young lovers either way, the second verse contrasts a “silent hour” with “worthless words,” and the third verse blankly lays out “what we did” and “the things we said.” All three work for both interpretations, but both interpretations leave you wanting to know more.

“There Will Always Be an Ireland” is right at home on Jack and Faye because it is more about the feeling it instills than the meaning behind it. The band has become more polished — you can hear Rachel talking quietly during the second verse before the chorus comes in — but that doesn’t always mean that they’re “better” now. People will debate until the end of time if the lo-fi Goats were better and I don’t think that’s answerable, but I do think they were undeniably raw in an interesting way. Whatever you take from this song, you’ll definitely feel something unique.

061. Adair

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJqY9lC-XpM

“Adair” is a wavering, quiet love song about the kind of moment you remember for the rest of your life.

Track: “Adair”
Album: Jack and Faye (Unreleased, recorded 1995 or 1996)

The title of Jack and Faye comes from the stars of Chinatown. John Darnielle never released it, but you can download it freely from the Goats’ website and the standout “Raid on Entebbe” gets played live from time to time. If you’re a fan, all of those details combine to form a mythos that’s undeniable. Chinatown has a strangeness about it despite being one of the greatest films of all time and the Goats are very particular about what they release and don’t release. That should pique your interest for a love song on such an album.

In the interest of disclosure, “Adair” has always been one of my favorite love songs. The specificity of a scar that “runs clear from your temple to your jawline” and “the blazing dead center of July” create a clear picture of two lovers who have spent a lot of time together. They know the contours of their lover perfectly, and we all have that memory of one small imperfection of another person that made them feel special.

There is so much longing in “Adair.” The line “all my hopes hung on one gorgeous promise” is dripping with sentiment and it’s impossible to remain unmoved when you hear it. John Darnielle delivers the song with a wavering, quiet tone and it may not strike you if you’re not in the right mood. But if you listen to “Adair” when you’re feeling wistful, it will signal boost that emotion perfectly. “I want to tell you what the sky has done to me // I want you to tell me who we are” is the kind of sentiment that might seem sappy in the wrong place, but in “Adair” it will remind you of a forgotten moment with someone you absolutely never forget.

 

003. Raid on Entebbe

The title of the song tells you where you are, but it’s all about the general intensity for “Raid on Entebbe”

Track: “Raid on Entebbe”
Album: Jack and Faye (Unreleased, recorded 1995 or 1996)

The title is clear: Raid on Entebbe is a 1977 television movie about a real-life raid on a Ugandan airport in Entebbe. You can get caught up in the life of Idi Amin and what the title means, but let’s look closer.

There’s Rachel Ware, but she’s in the background now. She doesn’t even sing most of the first verse, it’s all John until the last two lines. It’s frenetic, but controlled. Everything about “Raid on Entebbe” contributes to the idea that the speaker is intense and hurried, but they’re definitely comfortable with the way they interact with the world. “They always do this when I come home” comes off as almost bothered, even though they’re talking about regime change. It would be too much for us, but our song’s hero is too busy to care.

“Incredibly, impossibly dry air” is a very John line. Everything is more powerful when it’s more specific, and even without the location in the title you can feel that air. You can imagine yourself standing outside, tucking your shirt in and hoping that the world doesn’t end around you. The lyrics take a backseat, though, which is rare in a Goats song. It’s one of the shortest songs in the catalog, but it’s even shorter lyrically. There are 65 seconds of lyrics and roughly 160 words in the whole song. That’s essentially unheard of for the man that fit “I threw a rock at a crow who was playing in the mulch of some rosebushes by the motel office” in one line in “Distant Stations,” but “Raid on Entebbe” is all about feeling. It’s not about what actually happens, but it’s about the Goats making you feel anxious. Every listen will make you reach for a watch that you don’t wear.