213. Handball

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5M0wtc0BieI

“I did not come to play handball,” a narrator insists in “Handball,” and the menace is the point.

Track: “Handball”
Album: Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

“You’ll get nothing from me, do you hear? Nothing! Anything I know about this odd little song will go with me to the grave.” – Liner notes for “Handball” on Protein Source of the Future…Now!

John Darnielle has written hundreds of songs, but none of them like “Handball.” The first verse is four loose lines from Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. The rest is the line “I did not come to play handball.” That is 100% of “Handball.”

There have been countless attempts to understand and debate the meaning of these songs. “Handball” is baffling in that the two verses aren’t connected in any obvious way, but it’s also very clear if one assumes that disconnect is the point. “I kill a man on the day his life seems sweetest to him” would be a Mountain Goats line if it weren’t something else already, so the choice to use the lines in the first verse is clear. How does that connect to any one of the multiple sports called handball?

John Darnielle wrote the lyrics down and asked a studio full of people to sing it with him on a radio performance in Chicago in 2002. At a show years later, he called that performance “creepy for the sake of being creepy.” All of this suggests that trying to dig into “Handball” may be an attempt to look for things that aren’t there.

I once made a fellow Mountain Goats fan a shirt with a clip art handball player and the phrase “I did not come to play handball” on it. The point of the shirt was that a fellow Goats fan would understand, but understand what? I can’t explain it, but I feel like once you get that, you get all of this.

207. Third Snow Song

A lone character bangs a key against an icy bridge in a statement about what it’s like to live in the cold in “Third Snow Song.”

Track: “Third Snow Song”
Album: Philyra (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

At a show in Florida in 1998, John Darnielle played “Third Snow Song” on request. He dedicated it to anyone who has lived “in snow” and told the Tallahassee crowd to thank “whatever forces control your life” that they don’t have to experience multiple feet of snow. What’s more, after he finished the song, he asked the requester if they only asked for it because it’s an obscure song.

At the time, the only way to know “Third Snow Song” would be to have a copy of Philyra. Here in 2019 a copy will cost you about $30 USD, but there’s no telling how hard it would have been in 1998. John Darnielle mentioned that he didn’t even have one. It was re-released on the compilation Protein Source of the Future…Now! the next year and obviously, now, it’s everywhere online, but it makes one wonder what that person wanted from this song in 1998 in Florida.

It’s a short song with some catchy guitar. The into is toe-tapping and John Darnielle’s voice is upbeat. His character walks down Broadway in Portland and scrapes ice off the bridge with an old key. The goal seems to be to read the bridge’s dedication plaque. I’m unable to find what it says, but it doesn’t feel like it’s critical to the song. The character may or may not care, but given what we know about John Darnielle’s time in Portland, it’s more likely that they just needed a goal, however arbitrary.

If you’ve ever lived somewhere with lots of snow, you can sympathize with the feeling of trying to bang snow and ice off of something. You can feel yourself against a huge structure and the larger world as the cold makes you feel like the world itself is out to get you.

200. The Monkey Song

Does a song about a monkey in the basement hold greater meaning or is this really just “The Monkey Song?”

Track: “The Monkey Song”
Album: Philyra (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

“The Monkey Song” is not a traditional Mountain Goats song. It’s impossible to sing without a smile, given the absurd chorus about a monkey in the basement. “How did the monkey get there” and “where did the monkey come from” sound like lyrics from a children’s song. When played live, people have a good time and laugh along with John Darnielle. He sometimes even offers a mocking grand statement about the song to drive home the contrast with how silly it is.

There’s nothing wrong with a silly song. You will definitely wonder what this monkey is supposed to represent and why it’s in the basement, but you’ll just as quickly decide that you shouldn’t think so hard about a song called “The Monkey Song.” Given its placement on Philyra with a song about Portuguese water dogs, the urge to dismiss greater meaning is strong. But then, the other two songs on the album are serious, intense meditations on love and struggle. The other releases in 1994 tackle dark topics. What’s it all mean?

I’d like to say that “The Monkey Song” is the key to all of it. I’d like to suggest that it’s one of the songs that seems like it has a deeper meaning to unlock and in doing so, you gain a greater understanding of John Darnielle and yourself. More likely, it’s a silly song with a chorus that crowds can pick up on quickly. John Darnielle once told a story about playing in Europe and hearing a voice in the crowd yell something like “play monkey song!” in heavily accented English and how shocking it was. It’s not that there isn’t anything to understand here, it’s just that it may not always be the most important point.

199. Night of the Mules

Vague religious references and a group of foreboding animals populate “Night of the Mules.”

Track: “Night of the Mules”
Album: Chile de Árbol (1993) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

Chile de Árbol is a strange collection. One song is about the end of the world and the Easter Bunny, another is about Billy the Kid, and the other three are challenging to approach even at a basic level. “Night of the Mules” seems to be about generalized menace, with only the title to suggest where the source of said menace lies.

A few years ago John Darnielle opened a concert with “Night of the Mules.” He’s said recently that he likes to open shows with old or rare songs so few people in the crowd will know the first one. It’s a powerful effect, and it usually quiets the crowd as people try to figure out what they’re listening to or if they’ve heard it before. “Night of the Mules” doesn’t need much updating to fit in with a modern Mountain Goats show. It’s all fierce guitar and sneers, so it’s a perfect wake-the-crowd-up jam to hear up top.

The only commentary I can find is one quote where John Darnielle says the song is about an ending that will come for everyone. Kyle Barbour, author of The Annotated Mountain Goats, suggests that it’s a Biblical song because of the presence of kings, holly, and mistletoe, but he also hears “praying” in the second verse where I hear “braying.” That’s as good of an answer as anything I can come up with, but I’m more comfortable calling this a generalized view of an end times. The religious reading is backed up by the opening sample from Genesis about Abraham’s attempt to save the city of Sodom if ten good men exist there, but mules coming to destroy everything seems more like a John Darnielle original idea to me.

198. Seed Song

“Seed Song” pivots in the middle to tell the beginning and end of a story about life.

Track: “Seed Song”
Album: Yam, the King of Crops (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

The first two verses of “Seed Song” follow a familiar construction for the Mountain Goats. It starts with a narrator telling us that it has not rained in a year, but someone still wants to sell the character seeds. A different character in the following verse insists that these people buy seeds from a catalog, but it still refuses to rain. “We sent him away,” the narrator repeats four times, to really drive the point home.

John Darnielle loves using repetition and emphasis. In “Seed Song,” these devices work well with the hypnotic tune and create a sense of relentlessness in the listener. The idea is straightforward (it is not raining, no one has use for seeds) but the implication is much bigger than that. We are made to understand that these people are in trouble, immediately, and it is repeated to the point that it is unmissable. “Seed Song” opens Yam, the King of Crops, and the first two verses are a dark way to start an album. In typical Mountain Goats fashion, things must get worse.

The construction of the third verse is similar, but the audience changes. The narrator addresses us directly with “And I know you’re waiting // for the ironic ending.” This plays with expectations, because at this point you must wonder what will happen to these people. The reality is that most stories end this way, as the narrator tells us “I know you’re waiting // for the rain to come by // so am I.” The repetition of “so am I” four times again follows the previous verse’s construction, but without the hope of a happier ending.

149. Pure Honey

“Pure Honey” asks the most unimportant question in the catalog but will keep you guessing just the same.

Track: “Pure Honey”
Album: Philyra (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

In November of 2016, John Darnielle played a set for charity in Chicago. It is one of very few instances where you can hear “Pure Honey.” You should check it out.

“Pure Honey” is a stupid song. Songs like “Going to Maine” and “The Monkey Song” are similar songs that sound silly when compared to most of the 500+ song Mountain Goats catalog, but a song is allowed to be stupid or silly. These aren’t insulting terms. John Darnielle describes them the same way. You just have to be honest when you’re singing a song about the dangers of seals or a funny ode to ancient British people.

John Darnielle sometimes mentions his early career and talks about how he didn’t like being “the guy with the funny songs.” He was a poet first, so one can understand the fun of people laughing along with something silly competing with “serious” craft.

The best Mountain Goats experiences have both. “New Chevrolet in Flames” has a bunch of jokes in it, but it’s about two people who shouldn’t be together and delay the end of their experience by lighting a car on fire for fun. There are tons of these songs in the recent past, but the early songs tended to be shorter and had less room to explore their ideas.

Keep all of that in your head as you listen to someone pay $200 for John Darnielle to play “Pure Honey” in 2016. It is a song that entirely exists for a repeated joke and the absurd idea it conjures in your mind. Did this person just want to tie a $200 donation to something that silly or is “Pure Honey” something more to them? Could be either, but I personally don’t think either is any more fitting than the other.

145. Pure Heat

 

“Pure Heat” reminds us that even in the most beautiful moments, it’s possible to fear the end of so many things at once.

Track: “Pure Heat”
Album: Why You All So Thief? (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

The “pure” songs are all intense. They’re not designed to be connected, but you can trace some patterns through them. Beyond intensity, they often share a vagueness. “Pure Heat” is one scene with one person seeing another one. There are so many Mountain Goats songs that fit that description that it is important to remember how rare that is. Generally songs are active or describe long spans of time. John Darnielle wants to tell you a story about one moment between two people and he wants you to see it vividly. Everything else you bring is your own deal.

Alone, this might be a song about two happy people in one happy slice of a happy life. Knowledge of the Mountain Goats greater catalog means that is unlikely to be true. These two people may be in love, but they’re more likely in the final stages of something they once thought was love. They are in a beautiful place, to be sure, and “Pure Heat” is a clear reminder that the California native son John Darnielle also loves Iowa and North Carolina. Their time in the fields with kerosene lamps and cool breezes may be picturesque, but it is tenuous.

“Pure Heat” is also the only other Mountain Goats song on Why You All So Thief? with “Going to Tennessee.” John Darnielle says they are both about “cheating death.” We’re forced to connect the two further. They could both describe the same couple, using sex and beautiful moments to avoid the greater realities of their situation. Many Mountain Goats songs would mean a breakup or a toxic relationship as a “situation” but the fear these two are staving off may go even deeper than that.

121. Going to Malibu

The robotic drum beat and delivery on “Going to Malibu” turn an argument into a march to war.

Track: “Going to Malibu”
Album: Chile de Árbol (1993) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

Chile de Árbol is not an easy listen two decades after release. The recording is scratchy and caries all of the “poor-quality-on-purpose” charm that the early releases do. Lyrically, it’s challenging and confusing. There are tons of Biblical references, a song about Billy the Kid’s magic shoes, and an extended discussion of the Easter Bunny that might be about the end of the world. We’re deep in the weeds in 1993, but there are treasures there.

“Going to Malibu” is the most “Mountain Goats” song on the album. All five songs have charm, but “Going to Malibu” is a direct address from one character to another about the state of their relationship. The relentless, mechanical rat-a-tat-tat marching drum sells a sense of unavoidable dread. These characters have to have this argument and it has to happen this way. John Darnielle’s delivery has a robotic quality to it that works alongside the drum. You can almost feel the fist pounding the table to punctuate each word in the chorus of “that’s not true // that’s a rotten thing to say // that’s a damnable lie.”

Your enjoyment of “Going to Malibu” may vary. It’s definitely a weird song, even for the early ones, and the delivery and backing drum do lack the raw emotion that makes much of the early catalog so passionate. For me, this song wouldn’t work any other way. It’s intended to be a battlefield by the use of “neutral ground” and the battle march aesthetic is a logical choice. Lines like “the thoughts that race around my mind // could fill a long unreadable book” are worth the sound quality, and if you can put yourself in the non-magic shoes of the narrator, you might appreciate why they feels like they’re going to war.

113. The Window Song

 

“The Window Song” could have been lost to time, but now persists to express one truly great image.

Track: “The Window Song”
Album: Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

Protein Source of the Future…Now! is a collection of four early Mountain Goats albums and a handful of songs released on other compilations. “The Window Song” is originally from Pawnshop Reverb, a 22-song collection released by Shrimper in 1992. If you want the original, it’ll run you $40 and you’ll have to find a way to play a cassette.

The truly early stuff in the catalog is full of oddities, but “The Window Song” is a standout. 1992 is the second year of the Mountain Goats and this is the first song that features the Bright Mountain Choir, the all-female backing vocalists that includes original bassist Rachel Ware. It’s an essential part of Goats history, but it would be lost to time without the reissue. Nowadays you can find just about anything from the Goats online, but I think to appreciate this one to the fullest you have to imagine someone trying to order Pawnshop Reverb in 1997. I don’t know that music was better when it was harder to find, but there’s a romanticism to that chase.

No matter how you find it, “The Window Song” is a beautifully sad one. The chorus of “I know you, you’re the one // I’ve spent three seasons trying // to pretend that I never knew” repeats four times as it grows in intensity, but it’s the second verse that always gets me. “I moved toward your voice and my body got so light I could have walked on eggs right then and not broken a one of them” is a classic Goats line. It’s crammed full of words and yet only expresses one idea. Economy of language is usually about expressing an image quickly, but here the specificity helps you think of someone who has this impact on you.

104. Love Cuts the Strings

 

Numerous deep-cut references make the exciting “Love Cuts the Strings” a lyrical puzzle worth solving.

Track: “Love Cuts the Strings”
Album: Philyra (1994) and Protein Source of the Future…Now! (1999)

As of this writing, the most recent Mountain Goats album is about wrestling. Like everything else in the catalog it’s not solely about what it’s “about,” but the songs that explore the consistent themes of the band (loneliness, deserved rewards, external and internal struggles, etc.) are about wrestling, this time. Similar experiments include the meth album, the stepdad album, and the divorcing-couple-in-Tallahassee-Florida album.

No matter how out there the structure gets, though, you’re still listening to a Mountain Goats album. The themes repeat like they do for all artists who write about the things they really care about. Two decades ago while writing Philyra, John Darnielle clearly wanted to couch his themes in much more obtuse subject matter. There isn’t one connecting element to the four songs, but they definitely still feel at home in the catalog.

“Love Cuts the Strings” is the most raucous of the four. Darnielle strums at light speed and barks out lines like “punch-drunk, snowblind, as though the whole thing were a bad dream.” It’s easy to get into the beat and to nod along with the intensity, but just what the lyrics are talking about is a little murky.

Kypris is another name for Aphrodite, who also shows up in the last verse as “the green-eyed goddess” who prepares for war. As near as I can tell, the narrator is imagining the concept of love as something that’s following them as they flee. They mention recognizing the figure but not understanding how, which seems about right for a Darnielle narrator’s relationship with affection. Finally, they picture the air around love turning red as they feel “a dull chill” come over themselves.