381. Tug on the Line

“Tug on the Line” is about a fishing trip where something truly unexpected happens, isn’t it?

Track: “Tug on the Line”
Album: Undercard (2010)

Many years ago, a friend of mine said that he mistook the lyrics of a totally different Mountain Goats song and thought it was about actual cannibals. At the time we laughed about it, but with some distance I begin to question if that was the right response. Who was I to say that wasn’t true? There is at least one Mountain Goats song about literal cannibals, not even as a metaphor, so who could say there aren’t more?

The problem, if there is one, is with jumping off from one point and then being unable to hear anything else. If you take figurative language literally or you read into details too far you start to hear things that aren’t there. “Tug on the Line” is a peaceful, quiet song that I think makes two pretty direct references to eldritch horror. A group of people go out on a boat for a nice day of fishing and find something “shapeless and probably nameless, as of yet.” True horror comes from something you can’t name, but also something you can’t even conceive. You can’t even picture it, it’s so far beyond your understanding.

But then again, is that what’s happening? I think so, but I’m also unable to get past it to see anything else. The second verse literally says “fish that looked like monsters” but I’m open to all possibilities. At first glance, this is a straightforward, if magical, story. But it’s also just as likely the story of how you carry around dark feelings from a day. I’ll never really be sure, and I think that’s part of it.

380. Programmed Cell Death

With a comparison to the inevitable death of all things, “Programmed Cell Death” ponders the act of pondering.

Track: “Programmed Cell Death”
Album: Undercard (2010)

Programmed Cell Death is a term for any genetic process that leads to a cell dying. It’s pretty much what it sounds like from the name. It’s a fitting name for the Extra Lens song “Programmed Cell Death,” especially when you view it as not the result of an accident. Cells create other cells and die as part of the natural division and growth of life. We, as combination of cells, go to the store and buy things and wonder about existence when we aren’t too distracted by our phones. Franklin Bruno called it “a sensitive one” during the only performance of it I could find a recording from, in 2010. It’s maybe even an understatement.

You can’t box in the Extra Glenns/Lens as a band. The strongest theme is infidelity, but also just a sense of introspection, sometimes within the former situation and sometimes not. John Darnielle sings “Programmed Cell Death” as high as it sounds like he can go, with his voice fully breaking on one line both in the studio and live versions. His narrator asks big questions, even for a song by Bruno and Darnielle, including “how much longer are we supposed to stay alive?” It’s all mixed with the mundane, but it has a lot more room to stretch out here than it usually does in a Mountain Goats song. There’s a lot to love about the imagery here, but the real joy of “Programmed Cell Death” is the juxtaposition between the biggest question possible to ask and the tinned fish right next to you as you ponder it.

379. Communicating Doors

Franklin Bruno’s “Communicating Doors” shows us a night in a hotel and what happens on nights you “don’t recall.”

Track: “Communicating Doors”
Album: Undercard (2010)

The Mountain Goats Wiki is not exhaustive and is sometimes wrong, which John Darnielle has commented on during live shows and podcast appearances. We live in a world that so consistently relies on online sources and the availability of all information that this seemingly obvious fact can be easy to forget. Just because something isn’t on a list online doesn’t mean that list is accurate, but “Communicating Doors” is the only original Extra Lens song that has no mentions of being played live. This does not mean it’s never happened, but it means no one wrote it down if it has.

Franklin Bruno wrote “Some Other Way,” “How I Left the Ministry,” and “Communicating Doors.” The other two, and “Only Existing Footage” which he wrote with John Darnielle, have all been played live. It makes one wonder what makes this one special. I don’t have a concrete answer and I think it may not necessarily be the right question, as the Extra Lens didn’t really tour that often, anyway. I mostly mention it because I’d love to hear this one live. The instruments are warmer here than they are elsewhere on Undercard and maybe that’s tough to do live. I don’t really know.

The song fits with the themes of the album if you assume this is a halting love affair. That’s how I’ve always read it, with the duo stay in adjoining rooms with an understanding that they will meet in one of them but want to keep the ruse alive that they might not. Mountain Goats songs are often about the end of love, but Extra Lens songs are about the situations that surround those emotions.

378. Cruiserweights

Similar to other songs about fighting for money but different in tone, “Cruiserweights” is a standout that will make you think.

Track: “Cruiserweights”
Album: Undercard (2010)

I love the storytelling in “Cruiserweights.” The title tells you this is a boxing story, but you probably already knew that. When you really get into it, though, this is a cousin to the wrestling story in “Blood Capsules.” It’s about the fight, sure, but it’s about the guy fighting as much as it is what happens in the ring. “Take a couple shots right to the liver // then remember what the food was like in prison // stick to the game plan // stall for time,” is among the best writing on any Mountain Goats, Extra Glenns, or Extra Lens song. I don’t know who this is about specifically, not like the very similar “Pinklon” which gives away the game in the title, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a story of someone who knows that if this doesn’t work, their next plan will be much more desperate.

There are a lot of connected stories in John Darnielle’s songwriting catalog, but this theme really is explored through all three of these songs. Boxing or wrestling are jobs, which it’s easy to forget given the spectacle. There’s no spectacle in this gym with a bucket of blood and a “PA system borrowed from the high school.” Someone is watching and someone cares, but no one has more on the line than the guy in the ring. That’s something you can understand when you see him get hurt, but I really love John Darnielle and Franklin Bruno asking you to consider what happens later. “Blood Capsules” is more explicit about the next steps, but both songs really walk you right to the edge to understand that getting punched is not the worst thing that might come next.

377. Adultery

In the directly named “Adultery,” you may be able to guess what two people get up to and then live with.

Track: “Adultery”
Album: Undercard (2010)

“Adultery” is barely a minute-and-a-half long. It’s an explosion and a strong choice to open Undercard as a result. You can make a case for a few others, but there are only two extremely direct, inarguable songs about infidelity on the second album that John Darnielle and Franklin Bruno put out together. Now known as the Extra Lens, each songwriter takes credit for specific songs on this one. “How I Left the Ministry” is Franklin Bruno’s and “Adultery” is John Darnielle’s. I wouldn’t blame anyone who couldn’t immediately tell the difference, but it is interesting to work backwards from that fact to see each take.

“How I Left the Ministry” is a little more thoughtful, with a perspective of one of the two cheating people wondering how they got into this mess. We can infer from the title something even beyond the lyrics, suggesting a person of the cloth is wrapped up in this literal and figurative car crash. “Adultery” is more to-the-point. This is about adultery, you see, and welcome to this album. The guitar is intense and gets some room to stretch in the outro, but this one is almost entirely about John Darnielle’s snarl. “And I’m standing on the same spot where your husband stood” is the only direct reference beyond the title, but it’s an especially bitter one. You can hear Darnielle spit a little with a few lines and this narrator is one of the angriest in the Glenns/Lens period. John Darnielle has written dozens of songs about broken marriages, but this may be the point that embodies it all the most. There’s intensity, mostly but not entirely negative intensity, and very little time to reflect.

376. Going to Michigan

With two relatively obscure references, “Going to Michigan” takes you on a drive you might not be able to handle without protest.

Track: “Going to Michigan”
Album: Martial Arts Weekend (2002)

I cannot tell you why the studio version of “Going to Michigan” is not on YouTube, but the live version I’ve included here has no meaningful differences from it. What I really should include, but cannot due to an unnecessary, but specific code, is this version of the song when it was called “Going to Detroit.” That version includes an explanation from John Darnielle about why the song didn’t make the final cut for Nothing for Juice in 1996. There aren’t really any differences across every version of this song, which is, in a way, noteworthy. I have a memory of hearing one where the band changed out the two musical references, but I can’t validate that.

Gary Newman was a new wave musician who I know only for the single “Cars.” The second reference is even more obscure, at least to me personally, as Blue Cheer was a psychedelic band from the 1960s and 1970s that took their name from a specific kind of acid. I assumed when I first heard this song decades ago that both were references to things that would be overly specific to listen to in a car trip that ostensibly was shared space with someone else. Reducing these references to that joke may not be strictly accurate, but I’ve always viewed this as the evolved version of something like “Anti-Music Song.” I am sure these aren’t intended with the same vitriol, but you do get a vibe that you’re supposed to at least be surprised. It’s an odd one, even if you assume that much about that part, but maybe you, like the narrator, do know exactly what that burning white rose is about.

375. Going to Marrakesh

Through some powerful comparisons, “Going to Marrakesh” makes a damning statement about what it means to be in love forever.

Track: “Going to Marrakesh”
Album: Martial Arts Weekend (2002)

For my money, “Going to Marrakesh” is the closest of all the Extra Glenns songs to being a Mountain Goats song. I’m sure on any given day that answer might change, but surely you can hear what I’m talking about. Part of it is the delivery, with John Darnielle’s high notes and the way his voice acknowledges the humor of lines like “and our love is like Jesus, but worse.”

Interestingly, “Going to Marrakesh” ends with the title. Most of the “Going to” songs don’t even mention their location, with the title meant to call to mind a specific place and the people in the song, understandably, not referencing it beyond that. Marrakesh is a city in Morocco, which has a separate entry as “Going to Morocco” on the same album. Is this significant? Probably not, but a curious detail if you’re given to trying to connect seemingly unrelated songs.

The entire song is an extended comparison of love to things that can die. In verse one it’s a monster being drowned, in verse two it’s Jesus in the cave, and in verse three it’s a patient in a hospital. This is what makes me call it a Mountain Goats song is disguise, which is honestly not fair to the songwriting duo behind the Extra Glenns. Franklin Bruno obviously brings more adventurous instrumentation, at least for 2002-era Mountain Goats stuff, but he also unlocks an intensity of language that allows John Darnielle to feel comfortable with lines that share a tone with his other work, but are something different entirely.

374. Going to Morocco

“Going to Morocco” is mysterious and strange, but the feeling is one you’ll instantly connect with.

Track: “Going to Morocco”
Album: Martial Arts Weekend (2002)

It’s a little bit of a cheat to talk about another song in the space designated for “Going to Morocco,” but I must insist you listen to the back-to-back of “Going to Morocco” and “Carmen Cicero” from this live show in October of 2000. This is the quintessential version of both of them and they deserve to be connected as an experience. “Carmen Cicero” is famously live-only with no released version intended and I’ll be a little grandiose here and say that version is one of the best versions of any Mountain Goats (or Mountain Goats-adjacent) song, with an extra-intense (even for him) John Darnielle demanding the audience sing the chorus by saying “every last one of you, right now.”

“Going to Morocco” is connected to “Carmen Cicero” very loosely, and really this is just me stretching but go along with it, because it’s another really loud, really intense series of shouts. You cannot crack the meaning and maybe shouldn’t try. Segues like “if you won’t, I will” into “but there are no wolves around here” resist you at every turn. I am hesitant to say any song John Darnielle even has a hand in doesn’t mean anything, but I think “Going to Morocco” is more about the feeling than anything else. You can spend a lot of time reading about what a “guttural stop” is in linguistics or you can just let the guitar wash over you. I recommend the latter.

373. Ultraviolet

A narrator defiantly stands against a hostile world in the Extra Glenns song “Ultraviolet.”

Track: “Ultraviolet”
Album: Martial Arts Weekend (2002)

John Darnielle has said two things of note about the Extra Glenns song “Ultraviolet.” He said it was a song about salvation, which makes sense given the lyrics. This is a song about someone going through something, which every song is in a way, but it’s expressly about protecting yourself and taking care of how you make it to tomorrow. He’s also said the title comes from a movie he was watching, which might make you think of the 2006 Milla Jovovich joint that people seem to really, truly hate, but the timeline doesn’t work. My best guess is that movie was a 1992 horror film about “psycho-sexual games,” but honestly, I think this is a mystery we can leave unsolved.

I love John Darnielle’s delivery of “I leaned a little while up against a barber pole” and the passionate ending. The whole song is about that ending for me, with the narrator who has “lost a quart of blood since Tuesday” demanding that they will not let someone take everything from them. “I didn’t let ’em take the very best part // the last lone bit of light left flickering in my heart” is a sentiment that dozens of Mountain Goats narrators could get behind, but it’s uniquely a Glenns song because of the instrumentation and the style. The extended outro lets you sit with that thought and invites you to wonder if you are protecting yourself as much as you should.

372. All Rooms Cable A/C Free Coffee

“All Rooms Cable A/C Free Coffee” fakes you out with the motel-sign title and sneaks away after just a taste of a story.

Track: “All Rooms Cable A/C Free Coffee”
Album: Martial Arts Weekend (2002)

“All Rooms Cable A/C Free Coffee” is pretty clearly something John Darnielle and/or Franklin Bruno saw on a motel sign. You can run with that and picture this all happening in that motel or you can accept the song’s title as part of the pattern of odd, sometimes unrelated descriptors. I don’t think you’ll find an answer. Judging by my looking, you won’t find anything at all. This one’s never been played live, at least as far as the usual sources are concerned, and the closest thing to commentary about it I can find is a Tumblr post where someone used the lyrics in a drawing they made.

The Extra Glenns/Lens are odd to talk about because they are a side project, but one where John Darnielle sings most of it and the songs rarely stray far from themes of his band proper. This one fits in with that description, as a character observes image after image and feels a sense of impending pressure as they express love and/or longing. It’s extremely familiar territory for a Mountain Goats song, but jazzed up into a fuller sound than the band was experimenting with in 2002.

I’ve always loved this one for that first verse. “Wine and honey // lipstick and spit” is arresting, but “I’m not supposed to think your death wish is cool // but then I see you knocking back tequilas by the pool” is the killer. Tequila should generally only be pluralized in certain situations, and one where someone’s death wish is romanticized is one of them. This one is over so fast, but it definitely leaves you wanting to know more.