188. Cao Dai Blowout

“Cao Dai Blowout” is a ghost story that’s hiding a larger lesson about processing complicated feelings.

Track: “Cao Dai Blowout”
Album: New Asian Cinema (1998)

“Cao Dai Blowout” is about one narrator processing their father’s memory. They refer to a ghost that destroys all in its path, from street lights to simple items in the narrator’s home. The song builds with with guitar, banjo, and keyboard. The result is an effective rising as the narrator escalates descriptions of the ghost. “When the ghost of your father comes to town,” they moan, “what the hell else can you do?”

The payoff is a rejection of religious assistance (“when the priest came to call I sent him on his way”) and a surprising resolution. Many Mountain Goats songs build to a decision and veer off just before the climax, which allows us to wonder what specific problems narrators have and how we might feel about their actions. “Cao Dai Blowout” shows us a narrator that asks what can be done when overwhelmed with the presence of a dead parent and goes so far as to answer the question: “I let him set up shop.”

Caodaism is a Vietnamese religion that believes in an ultimate resolution where humanity and the divine will be as one. Supposedly, many prophets (including holy figures in most other world religions) have tried to tell us of this eventual moment, but we cannot yet perceive of this perfection. According to Caodaism, we will all reincarnate again and again until we are each ready to understand this and transcend.

The connection here to this song’s title is unclear to me, but it does draw to mind the smaller scale way we relate to our mothers and fathers. We will all be faced, eventually, with the decision of how to process their existence. John Darnielle offers up a solution to absorb all of it rather than fight, as this moment will happen until you do.

171. Golden Jackal Song

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5O77UXNFOk

“Golden Jackal Song” describes a scene where two old lovers meet up again, to ambiguous ends.

Track: “Golden Jackal Song”
Album: New Asian Cinema (1998)

So many Mountain Goats songs are about the interactions between two people. “Golden Jackal Song” accompanies “Korean Bird Paintings” on New Asian Cinema and fits right in as a comparative love song about the challenges two people face. In “Korean Bird Paintings” we only see the narrator as we watch them fill a room with meaningless gifts to create a grand gesture. In “Golden Jackal Song” we get to see more.

The “plot” of “Golden Jackal Song” follows one character who comes into town and feels “wicked impulses” about calling an old friend but “couldn’t let them die.” The power of the Mountain Goats is in both the vastness of the catalog and the specificity of the language. You might never have had the exact experience in this song, but as these two characters move into the kitchen you are very likely to remember something. “When I saw your kitchen // glistening like the old country // all your cups and glasses // lined up in front of me” is just scene setting. It isn’t meant to make you feel anything, but it is meant to make you remember.

Golden jackals will eat dead animals. Our character refers to themselves as eating carrion as they revisit the home of these old memories. The characters kiss at the end of the song, but they do so during a description of eating “rich, raw carrion, until I couldn’t think right.” Depending on how you feel about the memory that revisiting an old space, going to a kitchen, and seeing an old friend conjures up for you, maybe carrion is nourishing or maybe it’s disgusting. The guitar and the light tone John Darnielle uses doesn’t tilt it one way or the other, which means this can be a song just for you.

122. Treetop Song

 

“Treetop Song” is a rare bit of positive thinking in the world of the Mountain Goats.

Track: “Treetop Song”
Album: New Asian Cinema (1998)

At this show on April 9th, 2009 in Bloomington, Indiana, John Darnielle played some of Moon Colony Bloodbath with John Vanderslice. He played the never-released “For TG&Y” and the old classic “Cobscook Bay.” At the end, he came out and played a three-song encore that many Mountain Goats fans would swoon over: “Treetop Song,” “Cutter,” and of course, “No Children.”

This performance is the only live recording of “Treetop Song” that I can find. John Darnielle stumbles over a line towards the end and the crowd has to help him. This happens sometimes when he tries to play a very old, very rare song. It’s endearing, because it shows that even the man himself can’t keep a 500+ song catalog in his head at once. It’s always a fun moment when one voice calls out the missing lyric to a weird song in the middle of a concert, even if that might sound like a weird thing to like.

You won’t hear this live very often because the harmonica is important and that’s John Darnielle playing it. Aside from the harmonica, it’s almost a slight song. Both Darnielle’s delivery and strumming seem calm. It’s a great album-ending track in that way. The characters in New Asian Cinema are all struggling, but we see most of them right before the bubble bursts. The narrator of “Treetop Song” makes a decision to jump from one tree to another, but they also assure us that this choice means good things. Darnielle emphasizes the “be” in “And I knew that I would be all right.” In other songs this kind of statement might make you wonder if they were trying to convince themselves, but here it sounds like a fact.

027. Korean Bird Paintings

 

 

In “Korean Bird Paintings,” one character tries to impress another, but fails to do the real work necessary for their love.

Track: “Korean Bird Paintings”
Album: New Asian Cinema (1998)

For a band as well-loved and as examined as the Mountain Goats, it’s rare to find a song like “Korean Bird Paintings.” All of the usual sources have nothing to say about it. It’s never been played live, or if it has it has never been recorded and released. It has no mentions, essentially anywhere. It’s not even a rare song (it’s one of the five on New Asian Cinema) but it’s a strong contender for the “least-spoken-about” Goats song.

I’ve always loved it; it’s frequently my choice as my favorite when I have to pick just one, though I know that may sound silly for such an old song with no live versions. With no live performances or interpretations, we are left to consider it literally. It’s a person who misses someone and feels like they have no way to express it. They max out a Visa on the grandest gesture they can think of and fill the room with cards and balloons. When the object of their affection comes home, they reason, they will have to be impressed by the spectacle, if not by the love they have to give.

A lot of New Asian Cinema is about the struggle of relating to exactly one other person. Many of the characters can’t figure out exactly how to express what they feel, and “Korean Bird Paintings” sums up how we all spend most of our effort in the wrong ways. This narrator would tell you that they’ve done a lot of work, but we recognize it as meaningless work. It’s possible that their lover will appreciate it, but it’s more likely that they will be frustrated that they’ve spent all this time on what surely wasn’t the real problem.

019. Narakaloka

 

 

In “Narakaloka,” a dying person fears the darkest parts of the afterlife and attempts to change their ways just before death.

Track: “Narakaloka”
Album: New Asian Cinema (1998)

If you’ve only heard the best-known songs by the Mountain Goats, you could pick a worse place to start your deeper research than New Asian Cinema. It’s a five song EP from 1998 that’s reasonably accessible even for people who haven’t yet bought in to the lo-fi world of the early Goats. “Korean Bird Paintings” and “Treetop Song” are instantly recognizable messages about hope in unlikely places. “Golden Jackal Song” and “Cao Dai Blowout” are metaphors, but they aren’t necessarily complicated ones. It’s “Narakaloka” that requires some consideration to decipher.

Naraka is the Hindu equivalent of Hell, and loka loosely translates to “world” or “realm.” From a purely linguistic standpoint, “Narakaloka” is the realm of the afterlife reserved for the worst of the worst. The song is delivered from the perspective of a person who is condemned to death and is concerned with how they’ve lived their life. They’re certainly dying, because even though “the doctor says I’ve got 30 days left at most” is the dark punchline to the song, this isn’t the kind of character that would benefit from lying.

John Darnielle has said at live shows that the song specifically refers to the concept that “Narakaloka” is the part of Hell reserved for those who denied food to the poor in life. Taking that in mind, it’s easy to imagine the character here getting a diagnosis and wondering if their house is in order enough to avoid Naraka. They’re growing cabbages and making French toast with imported cinnamon, but they may not be the sort of person who would have done that beforehand. They won’t be there to see the full fruits of their labor, but they do hope that this little bit of selflessness will spare them in eternity.