094. Alpha Desperation March

 

“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.”

 

 

093. The Water Song

John Darnielle has some fun with metaphor as his narrator struggles to explain himself in “The Water Song.”

Track: “The Water Song”
Album: The Hound Chronicles (1992)

The early songs have simple names. In present day you get things like “Marduk T-Shirt Men’s Room Incident” but in the early days you got “Sun Song” and “The Water Song” and “Water Song II.” There’s nothing wrong with simplicity, it’s just interesting to see how the band has evolved.

The women who provide the backing vocals on the early records are collectively known as The Bright Mountain Choir. They’re really prominent on some of the best early stuff and they add some lightness to the surprisingly fun refrain of “let them kill me” that repeats 17 times in “The Water Song.” The early songs have a way of juxtaposing the extreme with incongruous joy.

It’s a song about the difficulties of communication. The narrator can’t get through to the person they’re talking to, so they try using metaphors. In the first two verses they use water, but the most beautiful part of the song is the third verse: “you’re the salesman // I’m the buyer // you’re the tractor // I’m the tire // I’m the glass // you’re the water that fills me.” There’s something about the cadence that sells it. Even though it’s hard to imagine what the exact conversation is, you can appreciate the attempt at colorful language in a personal crisis.

“The Water Song” rarely gets played live, but I encourage you to listen to this one to appreciate it. John Darnielle leads the audience as they sing the rousing, handclapping chorus and it feels like a song he could write now. He’s clearly embarrassed about some of the early, simpler songs, but “The Water Song” sounds great there. Despite that, he closes the song by saying “in probably its farewell appearance, ‘The Water Song'” so get it while you can.

092. Insurance Fraud #2

The couple in “Insurance Fraud #2” go through some hypothetical solutions to money woes that turn far more real than they’d like.

Track: “Insurance Fraud #2”
Album: The Coroner’s Gambit (2000)

876 people live in Colo, Iowa. Many years ago John and Lalitree Darnielle also lived there while John wrote The Coroner’s Gambit. It’s a sad album about loneliness and death. That may be calling water “wet,” but this specific album is more about those things than the other ones.

Often at live shows John describes his time in Colo with alternating descriptions. Sometimes he talks about how quaint the tiny house in the middle of nowhere was and sometimes he calls his landlord a slumlord and says it was depressing. We all have those feelings about old houses we used to live in, and the disparity between those feelings is all over The Coroner’s Gambit. “There Will Be No Divorce” is one of his best love songs. “Elijah” and “Shadow Song” are sad, but they’re a kind of productive sad that allows you to process feelings about dead friends and family members.

Then there’s “Insurance Fraud #2.”

A few songs in the catalog are numbered. There are many “Standard Bitter Love Song(s)” and “Heel Turn 2” is #2 because the first one only gets played live. This one is unique because #1 is just the first take of #2. John Darnielle says he rerecorded it because he had to rerecord a ton of songs in Iowa that were ruined by a nearby train. He left the train sounds in this one and the result is haunting and fascinating.

The song itself is direct. It’s the kind of extreme darkness that most of us never consider, but it’s par for the course for one of Darnielle’s couples. The song features a few examples of insurance fraud, but the creepiest part is the ending where one of them realizes that a person capable of such evil will come for them next.

 

091. Alabama Nova

“Alabama Nova” isn’t the live show staple that it used to be, but it’s still one of the catchiest songs from the early catalog.

Track: “Alabama Nova”
Album: Nothing for Juice (1996)

“We used to play this one every night!” – John Darnielle, 10-18-2004 at The Earl in Atlanta

Mountain Goats fans tape everything, much like Grateful Dead fans before them. I can’t speak for Deadheads, but it seems like Goats fans do it just as much to catch moments like this one as they do to catch good renditions of each song. If you listen to the recording in 2004, you’ll hear a fan yell for “Alabama Nova” and then Darnielle sound shocked as he delivers the above line. He sounds just as surprised that he’s playing it now as he is with the fact that he ever stopped.

Nothing for Juice is an excellent album. It’s also an album with Rachel Ware, though, so a lot of it doesn’t make the rotation these days. After the song in Atlanta Darnielle says that the last time he played it was nearly a decade ago in Germany. “Singin’ a song about Alabama to the Germans!” He sounds wistful, in a way, and it’s cool to hear the reverence that he has for his own old stuff.

The song itself is a stripped down, sub-two-minutes discussion between two characters. It’s difficult to dissect because it’s so sparse. In many ways it feels like just a simple song where the guitar and the bass play off each other well and the harmony really works. It’s not going to bring the house down and it doesn’t have any lines you’re going to tattoo into your soul, but it’s catchy enough that a non-Goats fan can enjoy the bass and a Goats fan can speculate about deeper problems this couple isn’t talking about as they talk on that front porch.

088. Masher

 

The narrator in “Masher” forgets words (and a lot more) as they confront a mysterious person in a tree.

Track: “Masher”
Album: Full Force Galesburg (1997)

Full Force Galesburg really is a confounding album. “Twin Human Highway Flares” is a love song and John Darnielle is on the record numerous times about the couple: himself and his now-wife. You hear that song and think you understand where he was at in 1997, but then you wonder where “Ontario” and “Snow Owl” fit with that. Then you come across a beautiful song like “Masher” and listen to it hundreds of times and still can’t break apart the chorus from the verses.

The chorus of “I am losing control of the language again” is evocative. You remember a time when you were so in love or so flustered or so angry or so confused that you forgot something as ingrained as language. That alone wouldn’t sustain a song, though the droning repetition of the line does sell the problem effectively.

It’s the verses. Our narrator is talking to a loved one, like most of the narrators on Full Force Galesburg. They list certainties (brine boiling, air containing the smell) before revealing that they’ve been incarcerated in some way, which they seem to view as a third unavoidable reality. It might be a metaphor, but by the second verse they are losing their memory to a greater degree. They’re either unstable or being destabilized by the person they see in a tree. How you take that part depends on how you take the title, given a “masher” is primarily a tool for mashing potatoes, but can also be British slang for a creepy guy. The delivery is sweet, but the couple on Full Force Galesburg is generally not a happy one. With only one perspective, we’re left to wonder about the other view of their relationship.

086. Bad Priestess

“Bad Priestess” is told in first person, but don’t mistake the hateful narrator for John Darnielle himself.

Track: “Bad Priestess”
Album: Zopilote Machine (1994)

At first glance, Zopilote Machine might seem to be the quintessential Mountain Goats album. It has (at least) three Alpha Couple songs, two Orange Ball songs, and three “Going to…” songs. With that many representations of “series” songs, it might serve as a crucial primary text in understanding the catalog.

The complication is that it features songs like “Going to Georgia” and “Bad Priestess,” songs that are by no means bad or not fun to listen to, but thematically dissimilar than the current Goats output. It’s difficult to have 500 songs that are largely told in first person because people will ascribe the narrator’s traits to you, but John Darnielle doesn’t identify with many of his early narrators. “Going to Georgia” is a fan favorite, but the narrator threatens someone they love with a gun. That’s not the kind of person you want to be.

The narrator in “Bad Priestess” may not be as violent, but they share a mindset with the person in Georgia with a gun. The titular “Bad Priestess” is a woman that is tempting someone, but they’re putting all of those qualities on her. She never speaks, she only lives in the way she is described. She is called a “fraud” for her “place among the poor” and that the sun across her face has had “the same effect on a thousand other guys.” There is a type of person that feels this way about the fairer sex, and it’s not a good type of person. It can still be a fun song even if the narrator is gross — Darnielle of the present calls him “insane” — but be sure you consider the context.

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.

084. Wizard Buys a Hat

Spiritually connected to another album, “Wizard Buys a Hat” details the fear of a town that feels turned against you.

Track: “Wizard Buys a Hat”
Album: Satanic Messiah (2008)

I was fortunate enough to see John Darnielle play “Wizard Buys a Hat” in 2008. By way of introducing it, he talked about the great challenge of coming up with the peculiar title first and then trying to write a song that could live up to it. The title is a wonderful melding of mystical and mundane, and it definitely deserves consideration before you hear the song. Is it tongue in cheek? Is this an actual wizard (not necessarily a stretch, for these guys)? If nothing else, we get a curious image of a mythical creature doing something we’ve done many times.

It’s almost better left vague, but it’s possible to break down a little bit through the lyrics and some assorted Goats knowledge. John said in a different show in 2008 that the song is about his time in Portland, but one could interpret it as NYC, given 6th Street and Broadway. There’s even a “red steps” in NYC that helps the argument, but let us picture The City of Roses. It’s possible our main character stole something — maybe even a hat, if we want to think literally — and then fled back to Broadway. That’s certainly supported, given that he’s entered his “crucible” in the department store and then a crowd is looking for him.

Whatever the interpretation of the first two verses, the third is the payoff. This only works if you consider Portland the setting, but “Feel like this town’s gonna put a quick end to me” works for the character in We Shall All Be Healed. He’s running from addiction but not succeeding. The Portland album offers a lot of different perspectives, but “Wizard Buys a Hat” sums up the fiery anger and paranoia very well.

 

083. Onions

 

“Onions” is an ode to a beautiful spring morning and the things that come with the end of the coldest season.

Track: “Onions”
Album: The Coroner’s Gambit (2000)

John Darnielle doesn’t eat meat. He wrote that the original liner notes for Full Force Galesburg were “a militant vegetarian rant which, among other things, described the lives of meat-eaters as “meaningless.” He’s done benefit shows for the animal protection agency Farm Sanctuary. It would be difficult to miss this element of his personal politics, but just in case he’s got dozens of lyrical references to the beauty of the simple cow to remind you.

“Onions” paints a beautiful picture. The narrator informs us that it’s late-winter/early-spring both directly and indirectly. “Springtime’s coming,” they say, but they also watch migrations and other animal behaviors that mirror the seasonal change. It’s easy to feel a little joy yourself as you picture the cows picking up speed as they realize the world is no longer cold and is inviting to the touch again. On a surface level, it’s a sweet image that gets coupled with new onions growing to show how wonderful the world becomes and how great everyone feels when winter thaws.

It may seem a strange song for The Coroner’s Gambit, then, since the rest of the album mostly covers loss, death, and divorce. One explanation is that it’s the glimmer of hope among all the sorrow, but it may be that our narrator doesn’t have all the facts yet. “Springtime’s coming, that means you’ll be coming back around” can be read as an assumption that may not turn out to be true. The world is new again in spring and that usually means the return of this character for our narrator, but we’ll have to see if this year goes the same as years past.

082. Seeing Daylight

“Seeing Daylight” seems simple at first, but the importance of one phone call when you need it shines through.

Track: “Seeing Daylight”
Album: Beautiful Rat Sunset (1994)

Some of the songs evolve. In 1994 on Beautiful Rat Sunset, “Seeing Daylight” sounds like a song from a troubled narrator. John Darnielle’s voice trembles as he sings the simple chorus of “boil, boil.” He lilts as he talks about the strange niceness of hearing a voice on the other end of a phone. He’s contemplative, but clearly very sad about his day and his space in the world. It’s understandable, even though we don’t get any details about this narrator.

By 2011, the song changes. On this live recording in New York, John is even quieter when he speak-sings the sad, mundane lyrics. The narrator is still troubled, but it’s now a more specific, less hopeful kind of troubled. He vibrates over “the impossible echo inside” and it makes you consider what that means, both to the narrator and in general. There are a dozen lyrics like that scattered over the catalog. There is no clear meaning to it, but you can get a general sense of the tone it is meant to evoke. The narrator is cooking a very simple meal and they are surprised by how much they are surprised by a phone call. Everyone can remember a day where they felt like they were the only person on earth and were then taught otherwise by a surprising interaction.

The only comment on this song I can find is from that same live show, where John said “this is a song about death.” I take that to mean that the narrator is feeling lost and scared and is only tethered to this world by one interaction. This is not unfamiliar territory for the Goats, but this song’s mundane nature requires deeper digging to find your own meaning in it.