Transmissions to Horace

412. Going to Santiago

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

Haunting clues are all we get in the troubling “Going to Santiago.”

Track: “Going to Santiago”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

In 2014, at Bottom of the Hill, the Mountain Goats played all of Transmissions to Horace, in a row. It’s worth listening to all of it, as it is every time he’s done that with one of the early tapes. Just before “Going to Santiago” John Darnielle says he needs a cheat sheet for it. After he plays it, he jokes that the crowd was probably excited when they first figured out what was happening but surely is sick of it by now. Given the audience, this is safely a joke.

The chorus is entirely “la la la” repeated over and over. “Alpha Desperation March” devolves into sick laughter to show the narrator’s mental state, and this is likely a similar situation though not really as effective. It’s an early song, but the verses are really something. The narrator tells us they have “a pocketful of medicine to abuse myself with” and I feel like that’s just a great line. There are little pieces of the early work here, with the character telling us they’re a specific distance away from California. We could assume that from the title, but the Santiago in “Going to Santiago” is a state of mind, not a place. These songs are often about what kind of person you could be if you could get out of your current situation. The truth, of course, is you’d still be the same person.

410. No, I Can’t

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

The Mountain Goats list a series of things you might need in “No, I Can’t.”

Track: “No, I Can’t”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Songs for Peter Hughes (1995) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

There are different versions of “No, I Can’t.” The original from Transmissions to Horace is a little slower and a little sadder. The version from Songs for Peter Hughes is fully danceable and has some beautiful backing vocals from Rachel Ware. Neither is better than the other, though I’ve come to love the faster one and it’s the one I think of when I think of “No, I Can’t.” The bass is nice and there’s a scream in there that’s worth hearing and the “I don’t know what I, I don’t know what I, I don’t know what I ever did without it” that leads into the final verse is just something else.

Kyle Barbour, whose excellent Annotated Mountain Goats page is currently down but will hopefully be back eventually, listed 43 specific things John Darnielle has inserted into this song live. The song is essentially a list of things one person brings another person, which lends itself to edits. I encourage you to seek out live versions to hear examples, but I have to call out Barbour’s diligence here. Is it significant that one of the items is a similar Panasonic to what John Darnielle would have been using to record his early work? Do you need it to be significant? Sometimes you just need someone to bring you exactly the right thing and you don’t even know until they do. You can feel the passion here and you know Darnielle means it when he says “I don’t know what I ever did without it.”

409. Going to Cleveland

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

After a hiss and a screech, two people fight about not fighting in “Going to Cleveland.”

Track: “Going to Cleveland”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

“Going to Cleveland” opens with a screeching sound for 25 seconds. It’s always reminded me of “Going to Kansas” in that way, though the explosion that opens “Going to Kansas” is more reflective of what follows. For “Going to Cleveland” this feels more like a punishment. You could analyze this and picture it as the sound of a hangover or a furious rage just before an argument, but I think it’s more likely it was an accident that John Darnielle fell in love with during production. The end result isn’t necessarily distracting if you listen to the album, but it really stands out on a solo listen. The song itself is great, especially the vocals. You’ve just gotta pay for that with some dissonance.

The song is notable as the first ever to include “John” as the narrator’s name, which John Darnielle has said he did specifically for the audience reaction. He also said in the liner notes of Bitter Melon Farm that the song “has attracted a small group of listeners who adhere to the very hard line that it’s the absolute high water mark of the Mountain Goats.” It is certainly indicative of the early style and it’s one of the absolute best early ones, but the mid-90s was such a rich period for the Mountain Goats, so I wouldn’t have been in that camp in 1999. It’s funny to imagine that two decades ago people were already longing for the “old days.” Those people had no idea what was to come.

183. Star Dusting

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , , ,

In a casino in old Las Vegas, the Alpha Couple tries and fails to communicate.

Track: “Star Dusting”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

The Stardust Resort and Casino stood in Las Vegas for decades. You probably would recognize the sign, it’s one of the iconic pieces of Vegas that you know even if you haven’t been there. The place isn’t around anymore; a company says they’re building a new Chinese-themed resort in a few years. The Wikipedia article for it is not well policed. One mundane fact includes ten separate citations, most of which are personal YouTube videos with memories and slideshows. The article is extremely long and includes a ton of asides and rambling details, all of which create an endearing sense of the love people felt for this defunct casino.

“Star Dusting” borrows the resort’s name and shows us an early day in the Alpha Couple’s lives. One mumbles at another and they attempt to communicate. It all breaks down as one perceives the sound of bells ringing out from the other’s throat. “I thought I heard bells ringing // But then I remembered that I no longer knew what bells sounded like” is pure John Darnielle, with a very confusing image crammed into two lines. The song lazes along over slow guitar and the droning delivery of a drunken evening in Las Vegas. These two have spent a year in this place and it’s definitely not going to get any better any time soon. John Darnielle opens the song by stating the date and saying “this is a horror story,” and you can feel the tension build. It all won’t pay off in explosion for over a decade, but the anger of “No Children” is already there.

125. Early Spring

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

Spring is typically a time of renewal, but the Mountain Goats remind us that not every new sensation is a good one in “Early Spring.”

Track: “Early Spring”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

“Early Spring” is the second song on Transmissions to Horace, the very early Mountain Goats album. Like every other song on the album, it was played in San Francisco in 2014 when John Darnielle played every song in order on one weird, beautiful summer night. After “Early Spring” one guy shouted “cover to cover” as a request. He hoped that, somehow, John Darnielle might play all 10 of those ancient songs in a row. He got what he wanted.

The album version is slow and creepy. John Darnielle’s voice is almost emotionless as he lists the truths of a couple’s current state of affairs. The coffee’s worse than it used to be, the paint’s peeling, and even jokes and songs have lost their luster. He lists these problems and closes each verse with “and I know you” twice. The narrator survived the winter with someone but now, in the spring, it seems like they see their situation in a much worse way.

The live version is what that guy wanted to hear. He wanted to hear John Darnielle speed up the delivery and howl “it’s a lie!” The second verse that night in San Francisco is why this song exists. You can hear John Darnielle’s fury and the emotion the narrator wants their mundane complaints to carry. “I know you” is a simple sentence that carries real darkness here, and it’s telling that even when John Darnielle yells the rest of the song he lowers his voice to deliver “I know you” the only way it can come across. It might be a period on the end of this relationship or it might just be the sign of another bad night, but it’s undeniably loaded no matter what.

094. Alpha Desperation March

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , , ,

 

“Alpha Desperation March” is either creepy or funny depending on your perspective, but it’s definitely evocative.

Track: “Alpha Desperation March”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

“Alpha Desperation March” is primarily one of the earliest songs in the Alpha series about the Alpha Couple, the miserable lovers that show up in dozens of Mountain Goats songs before their entire album Tallahassee. It’s also a test for the band. It’s a bitter song told from the perspective of an angry lover who confronts their other half and then laughs uncomfortably at them for nearly 30 seconds.

It may be challenging to start with “Alpha Desperation March” if you’re new to the band. The early Goats songs have a high price of admission sometimes and the uncomfortable laughter at the end is a prime example. If you’re well versed in the world of John Darnielle you’ll understand it as an eerie coda to the argument his narrator has over the course of the song. You might understand that without any other Mountain Goats knowledge, but it would assume that you’ve had some hard times with someone that involved money and love and I don’t want to assume anything about you.

It’s a classic from the early era and I call it a test because it’s completely understandable that someone who just wants polished, produced, full sound will probably not understand the love for “Alpha Desperation March” and that’s OK. There are plenty of albums that fit those descriptions, but it’s amazing in a totally different way that John Darnielle was already capable in 1993 of writing “see I’m perfectly aware of where our love stands // but the plain fact is that you owe me eight grand // if it helps to jog your memory I lent to you one Tuesday when we were drinking.” You can just see this argument and you can feel it with the bite on “drinking.”

 

 

058. Teenage World

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

In “Teenage World,” the narrator is baffled by a present from someone they’re clearly fed up with in other ways.

Track: “Teenage World”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

At a show in 2014, John Darnielle played every song from Transmissions to Horace and repeatedly referenced it with some self-deprecating commentary. Darnielle mostly walks a line between “the old songs aren’t as good” and “there are people who love these old songs” and the result is that everything gets played, but some of it gets played with a bit of a smile.

During “Teenage World” at that old-school set, Darnielle got one line into the song before he had to ask the crowd for a line. When you have hundreds and hundreds of songs in your catalog, you can be forgiven for not remembering every detail about all of them. I’ve always found it endearing that Darnielle is willing to play songs that he still loves but might not really know anymore. There are stories of fans having to pull up lyrics on their phone to help the band get through particularly obscure moments, but my favorite is a live performance of “Riches and Wonders” where Darnielle forgot a line, only to hear one lone female voice help out with “we are strong!” from the crowd. A Goats show is a unique experience, but a Goats show with older songs is something else entirely.

“Teenage World” is fairly straightforward: the narrator gets a gift of a rabbit and doesn’t know what it’s supposed to signify. They decide to make the best of it and drive the rabbit into the rich part of town while they roll on down the highway pumped up full of recreational ADHD drugs. It’s specific, but that feeling of not understanding your significant other is very relatable. “I’m sick and tired of trying to figure out your gestures?” We’ve all been there.

018. Going to Monaco

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

 

In “Going to Monaco,” one lover strikes a final blow against another after a perceived wrong we aren’t permitted to see.

Track: “Going to Monaco”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

The end of a relationship between two people who both want their relationship to end is fine. There are still emotions wrapped up in that kind of an ending, but it’s an easier break when both people want to leave. It’s far harder, obviously, when there’s a difference of opinion. When one person is in love and another is not, that’s where you have “Going to Monaco.”

The chorus of “and you ask me to hold you // that’s the devil’s work” is, for lack of a better word, mean. There’s spite in this character and it comes through in the snarl when John Darnielle sings the song. The guitar is slow and plodding and the whole thing feels defiant. They’re mad at this person standing on the beach with them, but in “neither of us runs for cover” we learn that they are both going to see this through to the end.

“Going to Monaco” ends without a resolution, but it’s easy to fill in their future. One fights anger and defiance by demanding one last emotional gesture, the kind of thing we often do when we’re backed into a corner. It is the cigarette before the firing squad, and since the other feels wronged, their only remaining move is to deny the smoke. The world is aflame around them and we’re not here long enough to figure out who really made the mistake here — did something happen or are they just like this — but we recognize our own defiance in how they deal with their conflict. The world will continue to burn and one of them will get their way, but not both.

014. Historiography

Alex Russell Bitter Melon Farm, Transmissions to Horace , , , , , , , ,

 

The narrator of “Historiography” only remembers one (or ten) things about love and wants to tell you about that one (or ten).

Track: “Historiography”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

Historiography is the study of how history is written and kept, and that is a concept central to the Mountain Goats. Unreliable narrators, loners, people lost to society, and other misfits are sprinkled through the catalog, and it’s important to always consider the source when reading history, be it of great nations or of a relationship.

“Historiography” is originally from Transmissions to Horace, which may be considered the third official Goats release. It’s tough to number them — especially because Transmissions to Horace was released in its entirety, with other albums, on Bitter Melon Farm six years later — but it’s enough to say that this is one of the earliest existing songs. The title of the album suggests that John Darnielle is talking to history itself as it name drops the famous poet from the early days of the Roman Empire. This particular transmission is filled with forlorn strumming and an overall tone that makes you hear rain that isn’t really falling.

Our narrator is in love. It’s the kind of love that strikes you dumb and makes you say passionate, immediate things. They recount their own history of a beautiful moment by repeating “all I remember” about the situation. The early “you were warm // and that’s all I remember” is a sweet sentiment, but by the tenth thing that is “all I remember” it’s clear that our character is too in love to focus on the structure of how they show it. “Historiography” is aptly named, because it doesn’t so much matter what happened as it does how they record it. The narrator cares more about getting everything said than they do about wondering if each thing really is the only thing they remember. Moment to moment history is as important as that of time when you’re this in love.