361. Raja Vocative

The true meaning of “Raja Vocative” is available for an audience of one, but the feeling is for everyone.

Track: “Raja Vocative”
Album: Orange Raja, Blood Royal (1995) and Ghana (1999)

John Darnielle said of “Raja Vocative” that it is “a heavily-coded response to some personal pain” and that “there is maybe one person alive who would be able to do the decoding necessary to get at the truth of the matter, and she isn’t talking.” It’s possible that you could figure this out further, but why would you want to?

Part of the exercise of looking at every single Mountain Goats song is answering questions and finding answers. There are mysterious songs I’ve always wondered about, but also pretty clear songs that I’ve always wanted to put some more thought into. There is something to consider for all of them, even the ones that are seemingly cut and dried. However, even within that exercise some mystery is important. John Darnielle wants you to get close enough to “Raja Vocative” to know there is an answer, but not one he wants you to access. We must respect this.

That said, the violin is beautiful and there’s a reason this one persists in live shows. The studio version adds the violin, but the live versions add through subtraction. This is one you might hear during the solo John Darnielle part of a show now, which lets him really hammer home the delivery. We must also spend a moment on one of the truly great turns of phrase in the catalog: “in the unstoppable camera of my mind’s eye.”

288. Blood Royal

“Blood Royal” marks the beginning of a collaboration for John Darnielle, but also is the result of a display of honesty.

Track: “Blood Royal”
Album: Orange Raja, Blood Royal (1995) and Ghana (1999)

In 1996, just after Nothing for Juice came out, John Darnielle performed in Maryland at a place called Fletcher’s. It closed in 2009 when ownership changed hands. The Facebook page for the place has three posts, two just before they closed and one update six years later with a poorly, but lovingly shot photo of the outside. It’s always a little hard to tell from the recordings, but it sounds like it was maybe a weird show. The crowd talks too much and John Darnielle keeps making jokes about enthusiasm when he prompts the crowd with questions. It’s a very curious look at another time, with discussion of smoking on stage in a place that doesn’t exist anymore and barely exists as a thing to be researched.

This is one of the only live versions of “Blood Royal” you can find. It’s a good one, but not completely dissimilar from the official one. Alastair Galbraith was even there to play violin, as he does on the standard track. Galbraith says he once saw John Darnielle perform with the Bright Mountain Choir and appreciated his intensity and honesty. When John Darnielle asked him to collaborate, it was a no-brainer.

That show at Fletcher’s isn’t essential to your understanding of this song, but it is worth hearing because that’s why Orange Raja, Blood Royal exists. John Darnielle is the beating heart of the Mountain Goats and always has been, but the band has developed because people saw what he was doing and found it undeniable. “Blood Royal,” haunting and strange at first listen, isn’t just the product of that collaboration, it’s part of the reason it all exists in the first place.

164. The Only Thing I Know

Amid strumming and breezy harmonica, “The Only Thing I Know” confronts the totality of the end.

Track: “The Only Thing I Know”
Album: Orange Raja, Blood Royal (1995) and Ghana (1999)

The Orange Raja, Blood Royal songs are unique because of the accompaniment. Alastair Galbraith heard John Darnielle play live and thought he was so honest and inspiring that he wanted to work with him. It turned into four songs and a friendship. He shows up on other Mountain Goats songs, but he’s most recognizable here.

In an interview about the collaboration, John Darnielle says that these four songs were written in “a very particular time he knew lots of details about.” One of the beautiful things about John Darnielle is that a statement like that is extremely specific in origin, but extremely malleable to your own purposes. He means it one way, for sure, but it’s vague enough that these four songs can be confirmed to, yes, for sure, be about what you need them to be about.

The harmonica on “The Only Thing I Know” gives the feeling of a breeze. It weaves in and out and creates an almost lazy vibe through this very serious conversation. One character tells another that they know they’re leaving and that’s just reality. “That is just about the only thing I know about you,” they say, which is the kind of heartbreaking thought we use to wound others. You can imagine the pain in both directions as a lover admits that not only the closeness required for love is gone, but so is the familiarity required for even friendship.

John Darnielle’s delivery across Orange Raja, Blood Royal is almost haunting. He gives these narrators such a miserable view of their situations and he wants it to be inescapable. “How much do I love you,” he asks in “The Only Thing I Know,” but it feels more like a useless plea to get someone to stay than an actual admission of love.

057. Hatha Hill

The meaning of “Hatha Hill” will change depending on who you ask, but that ambiguous nature feels intentional.

Track: “Hatha Hill”
Album: Orange Raja, Blood Royal (1995) and Ghana (1999)

There are four songs on Orange Raja, Blood Royal and they really deserve to be listened to as one unit. The singles and EPs are less thematically cohesive than the full length releases, but this one is certainly united in other ways. The droning, eerie “Blood Royal” sets the stage and comes off as especially haunting with guest Alastair Galbraith’s violin. “The Only Thing I Know” is more familiar snarling between lovers, but again Galbraith sets the song apart as unique with harmonica accompaniment. “Raja Vocative” is the standout, with some beautiful violin and true pain in John Darnielle’s vocals and lyrics. Where does that leave the closer “Hatha Hill?”

The shorter songs from the early days can sometimes feel slight in comparison to the explosive fury of “Oceanographer’s Choice” or the scene changes of “The Mess Inside.” People aren’t screaming for “Hatha Hill” when they see the Mountain Goats, but that doesn’t mean it can be glossed over. It deserves attention because of its placement on such a great single, even if “Raja Vocative” is the one that’s endured.

There’s a lot tied up in very few words. “As the sun went away // you were sending out signals” will mean something different to you than it means to me, and John Darnielle’s relatively liberal allowance for “what this song means” in general leaves enough room for everyone to be right. The exact intention of what “sugar” is in this song is almost certainly impossible to derive, but it doesn’t really matter. The lines about sugar exist to get to the ending, which you can read as part of the grand tradition of Mountain Goats narrators being distrustful or you can start the song over and continue to look for specific meaning in what may be an intentionally undecipherable song.