222. Nine Black Poppies

“Nine Black Poppies” is the moment between the good times that are over and the explosion still to come.

Track: “Nine Black Poppies”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

It is easy to make broad statements about the Mountain Goats. This is a band that put out a shirt that just said “I Only Listen to the Mountain Goats” on it because they knew the way their audience processes their work. No one “likes” the Mountain Goats, they feel something more than that.

That said, I will lean into that impulse and say I don’t think there is a better thesis statement for the “early’ period than these two lines from “Nine Black Poppies:”

And I tried to remember how nice it had been a long, long time ago
But I couldn’t remember, I honestly could not remember

The song opens with one character saying they intended a nice gesture but then was overcome by this emotion. They grow increasingly uncomfortable and get closer and closer to the moment of confrontation. John Darnielle has said that it’s about characters that don’t trust each other, which is really clear as the situation escalates. In typical fashion, we don’t get enough specifics to fill in the gaps. The characters reference “a half-remembered conversation” and “the traces of an old song,” and we’re left to wonder what really happened here.

It doesn’t matter. The power of “Nine Black Poppies” is in the way John Darnielle’s voice cracks over “someone was changing // someone was changing from the inside out” and the panic that we feel as we consider our own version of this situation. A package from a specific part of China is all we get as a clue, but we don’t need to know. We’ve been there before and we’re back there again as this character turns around, somewhere after this song ends.

221. Chanson du Bon Chose

In an early morning fit of activity and stress, two characters cling to each other in “Chanson du Bon Chose.”

Track: “Chanson du Bon Chose”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

I don’t have exact figures on this, but hundreds of Mountain Goats songs are in first person even though they aren’t about John Darnielle. This seems to be a difficult point to grasp, and it is easy to assume that the “I” in a song is the person singing. The narrator in “Chanson du Bon Chose,” translated (confusingly, though we lack the space to get into it) as “Song of the Good Thing,” is not John Darnielle. At a show in 2014 in Arizona, John Darnielle mused about the person he was when he wrote this song and what darkness was within that songwriter. You could ask that about so many of the early songs, but it’s especially appropriate in this case.

The characters in “Chanson du Bon Chose” are in a complex situation. The narrator says they are “waiting for something” and identifies their lover as sleeping in the living room. It’s 5:16 a.m., though we don’t know if that means today is starting early or continuing late for this character, and they ominously say “something was changing // there was something here entirely new.” The lyrics contain quotidian details, with water boiling on a stove as a classic representation of forward momentum. There’s an anxiety behind all of this. It’s a weird time to be awake, there are normal things happening but all at once, and these people are both troubled and hanging on to something.

There are so many songs frozen in this moment between two people, but what makes this one special is the performance. John Darnielle is not this character, but he sells them as someone fully realized in just a few minutes. “I am digging graves,” they nearly scream, and we feel the hairs on our arms prick up.

220. Cheshire County

Even though we know exactly where “Cheshire County” takes place, mystery abounds.

Track: “Cheshire County”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

“I feel like people would like this… if only anyone could see it.” – Peter Hughes, on the final moments of “Cheshire County”

Cheshire is a county in England. Daniel Craig and Tim Curry are from there. Lewis Carroll named the Cheshire Cat after it. It’s also the namesake for a cheese that John Darnielle bought in California that caused him to consider what kind of cows made this cheese he liked so much.

For the Mountain Goats, that’s a lot of backstory to have for a song. That’s an explanation for why there’s a brief song about a cow on the album that has the angry “Cubs in Five” and the even angrier “Nine Black Poppies.” Peter Hughes gave the above quote in reference to nearly empty shows on a tour where he played the ending notes and felt fond of how the song turned out, even if no one was there to appreciate it.

Plenty of people appreciate it now. “Cheshire County” has been consistently played at live shows for decades now, but my favorite rendition comes after a furious version of “Family Happiness” where an audience member asks for “Going to Alabama.” John Darnielle confirms this song does not exist and then seems to get in a brief disagreement with the person about this solid fact. They go back and forth about other songs that may or may not exist and John Darnielle says “well, here” and then plays “Cheshire County.”

It’s just a brief song about a cow and about two people who see it. It doesn’t need to be more than that, but it does end with a repetition of “disappear” that feels ominous. The narrator says it’s “the remnants of last night” that disappear, but we’re left to wonder what that means to them.

219. Going to Utrecht

The simple message of “Going to Utrecht” feels heightened through consistent urging from an isolated narrator.

Track: “Going to Utrecht”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

I’ve been to the Netherlands but I’ve never been to Utrecht. The Netherlands includes 12 provinces, of which the smallest is Utrecht. I’m not going to pretend to know anything about it. Apparently the only Dutch Pope is from Utrecht. The point is that you conjure something in your mind when you think of the Netherlands and “Going to Utrecht” should do the same thing for you, unless you have intimate knowledge of the province or city named Utrecht.

Earlier this year, John Darnielle performed “Going to Utrecht” in Utrecht. Someone yelled for it and he told them that he’d played the song the last time he was there and thought it was too obvious, but then played it again anyway. It’s a strong live song, but the performance doesn’t differ strongly from the version on Nine Black Poppies. The live version is usually solo and thus you miss the backing vocals, but mostly it’s the same driving, building tune.

John Darnielle also says this is a true story. In April of 1995 the Mountain Goats toured Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands, and it’s entirely possible that this song comes from an experience he had during that stop in Utrecht. The lyrics are straightforward, but there’s a lot of emotion tied into the repetition of “I couldn’t believe it” and “with my own eyes.” It’s him and it’s not him, but really it’s anyone who has felt physically isolated from someone that they were, in some way, right there with, anyway.

218. Cubs in Five

The impossible becoming possible does not dull the message of “Cubs in Five.”

Track: “Cubs in Five”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

“Well, I’m free of all that now; there’s a lot of unlikely stuff that’d have to happen before I’d ever dive back into that radiant, glowing, magnificent ocean of high highs and hurt feelings.” – John Darnielle, about the creation of “Cubs in Five”

This quote that John Darnielle said in an interview with Slate is a lie. It’s true that he said it, but he said that he knew that he was kidding himself. This love story is the central joke in “Cubs in Five,” after a list of things that are unlikely or impossible. “I will love you again,” John Darnielle and Peter Hughes say, “I will love you, like I used to.”

The Cubs won the World Series. I live in Chicago and I lived here when that happened. I’m not much for baseball but even I understood the significance when it happened. Prior to it happening it seemed impossible, which is something many people feel about snakebit sports teams, but this one really might be the top of the list. Then it happened.

The song doesn’t lose anything by that happening. Tampa Bay also won a Super Bowl, which the song also suggests would be impossible, and that doesn’t matter either. What matters is that in the moment the song details, the narrator tried to come up with a list of things that seemed actually impossible and they centered their list with two things: the Cubbies winning everything and this love coming back. They both ain’t happening, and the certainty of the former helps you understand the certainty of the latter.

The power behind the sentiment (and the droning guitar) is what matters. There is so much powerful language in Mountain Goats songs, but never is someone trying to make a point more emphatically than this.

175. I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away

 

One character responds to bad news with childish language in “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away.”

Track: “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

After the quietly bitter “Pure Money” but before the furious “Nine Black Poppies” lies “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away” on Nine Black Poppies. It’s an angry album, and most of the tracks describe some sort of argument or fury. “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away” bridges two songs about different versions of the same emotion and has much more fun than either other song.

“I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away” is not a happy song, but it’s very bouncy. You can’t help but snap along with the beat. You find yourself humming or singing along with John Darnielle’s repetitions as Rachel Ware provides backing vocals. The ending “and when it drops // you’re gonna feel it // oh, oh, yeah!” is almost triumphant. It would be fun if it weren’t so ominous.

No one is on the record about “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away” as far as I can tell. The only live performance in the usual sources comes from a show in Belgium in 1996 where they played the song as it is on the album and offered no additional context. Given the rest of Nine Black Poppies and the opening verse’s mention of “your terrible confession,” we can assume this day did not go well for either character. The sun sets and the argument continues, with the narrator insisting the other character has come for dark purposes.

“Toys” is an odd word choice for the title, though it does successfully make the narrator seem childish. This may be a relationship’s end or it may be other bad news, but we’re left to imbue our own meaning. We just know someone feels slighted and they have a particular way of expressing it.

144. Pure Money

 

Much like the characters in “Pure Money,” you may require a few listens to get everything out of this song.

Track: “Pure Money”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

Almost all the songs on Nine Black Poppies feature two characters. Most of the tracks see one person talking to another about a turning point in their lives together. As one of the shortest songs on the album, you could miss “Pure Money” as more of an interstitial between the furious “Chanson du Bon Chose” and the lively “I Know You’ve Come to Take My Toys Away.”

The beat is extra-mechanical on purpose here, similar to “Going to Malibu” and a few other early songs. John Darnielle delivers the lyrics in a near whisper. It’s tough to tell from the surface what “Pure Money” wants us to feel. It could be described as haunting, given the fading out chorus of “I used to know you” over and over, but it isn’t quite as eerie as some other songs the Mountain Goats imbue with terror. It feels more like one narrator’s thought, delivered and then left to percolate with no more detail than necessary.

In 2007 the band played “Pure Money” live and John Darnielle said he thought it was the only live performance ever. I can only find mention of two others, both in 1997, and only at that 2007 show did he offer any context. Darnielle describes the song as a hateful message encoded so well that the person who hears it won’t understand it for some time. While on the topic of encoding, the opening sample is from a Dutch interview where the band said that they don’t consider themselves “lofi” but rather “bifi” which is apparently a joke because it’s a European brand of sausage snack. Both the sample and the song are brief looks into situations we don’t fully understand, but as is so often the case with the early Goats, that’s not the immediate point.

044. Stars Fell on Alabama

John Darnielle rewrites a traditional love song in the style of the Mountain Goats with “Stars Fell on Alabama.”

Track: “Stars Fell on Alabama”
Album: Nine Black Poppies (1995)

The original “Stars Fell on Alabama” is very sweet, and I highly suggest the Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong version before trying to approach this one. The terminology will get stretched here if we call the song by the Mountain Goats a “cover” because it appears to share little beyond a title. It’s that fact that says everything, since you have to consider why John Darnielle borrowed the title of such a sweet song to write a song that ends with someone pulling a gun on someone they love.

Darnielle says he wrote the anti-love anthem “No Children” when he heard the Lee Ann Womack song “I Hope You Dance” on the radio. I won’t link it here, but it’s so super-saturated that it’s difficult to listen to even once. What does “promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance” in a love song even mean, really? Darnielle’s catalog is designed for someone who hears that and doesn’t hear their world. “No Children” isn’t a love song for a new generation or anything, but it’s meant to sound familiar. You know “I hope you die // I hope we both die,” whether you want to or not.

The comparison here isn’t as stark, because the sweetness of the original “Stars Fell on Alabama” is far more genuine than “I Hope You Dance.” While this one isn’t an attempt to “fix” a message, it’s still a rewriting of a love song. In both songs two lovers spend time alone together, but in the Goats version it’s not “I never planned in my imagination a situation so heavenly // a fairy land where no one else could enter” it’s “and your pistol glistened.”