384. Love Hymn to Aphrodite

A narrator describes quite the sight on a very specific day in July in “Love Hymn to Aphrodite.”

Track: “Love Hymn to Aphrodite”
Album: Hot Garden Stomp (1993)

There are a handful of songs from the original cassettes where John Darnielle recites the date before the song. “Love Hymn to Aphrodite” is one such song, where he says “the actual date is the 17th of April.” He has to say “the actual date” to differentiate from the song, where the narrator says “it’s the 18th of July.” What is the significance of this date? Is this a reference to the Battle of the Allia, where invading forces started a sack of Rome? The Romans called Aphrodite Venus, so probably not, but is it still important that we marvel at the fact that Tacitus listed the exact date in his history? It was 2,400 years ago, but we can tell you it was also on a Sunday, assuming Tacitus got it right. Assuming, very broadly and probably incorrectly, that this was the 18th of July in 1992, that was also the date of the very first photo ever uploaded online. An auspicious day!

More likely, this is a date chosen to add some specificity, much like a lot of the locations in the “Going to…” series. You need that for this one because there isn’t much, otherwise. The narrator tells us someone is floating and spinning in perfect circles, then asks “what, what are you doing?” The ending is curious and then devolves into rapid bongos or other drums played by hand. This is a weird one, and a tough one to relate to the title, but I love the choice to pick a date for a song like this. It makes you wonder why that one, when in reality you know that question is unanswerable.

383. Dogs of Clinic 17

Whether you think “Dogs of Clinic 17” is about real dogs or not, it is undeniably a song about how far hope can take you.

Track: “Dogs of Clinic 17”
Album: Undercard (2010)

The good folks at the Mountain Goats Wiki excerpted some stage banter between Franklin Bruno and John Darnielle during a performance of “Dogs of Clinic 17” in New York in 2010. John Darnielle says he doesn’t know how to introduce it and then both members of the Extra Lens explicitly say it is actually about the dogs in the title. After some discussion about how that could be true, given the back-and-forth between a dog and a scientist about how many dogs you need for this experiment, John Darnielle says “Franklin, to that I would ask you, what is reality?” I mention all of this not to elucidate what is going on here, because I think you really have to take this one at face value, but to make a case for you to go see John Darnielle live whenever you can. What is reality, indeed.

Undercard closes with “Dogs of Clinic 17,” which we have to assume is really about a group of the five remaining dogs from a group of twenty. The language is more powerful individually than it is when you try to construct a narrative for this one. You really focus in on that lyric that led to the stage banter there and the somewhat chilling notion of a scientist responding to a dog that notices that three-fourths of them are gone by saying “five is plenty.” That said, the verses don’t necessarily connect the way they do on a lot of the rest of Undercard. I don’t think that’s a problem, especially because it allows for the powerful offramp of the last verse. It feels positive and rising, but the final words tell a true tale of what’s coming next.

382. Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods

“Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods” shows us one way to respond to a world as it falls apart.

Track: “Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods”
Album: Undercard (2010)

There’s a good video of “Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods” here, where John Darnielle played it as part of a cruise that Barenaked Ladies did called Ships and Dip. We lack the space to unpack that, but what a detail. It was originally a Mountain Goats song and was played a few times before becoming an Extra Lens song and appearing on Undercard decades later. There are no huge differences between the two versions, which is notable mostly because John Darnielle kept the lyric about the “Financial News Network,” which existed when he wrote the song but was a long-distant memory when it came out on Undercard in 2010. The Extra Lens version has a fuller sound, as with most of their music, and that may be a plus or a minus depending on the kind of thing you’re looking for.

Why “Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods?” I couldn’t tell you, but the naming convention shows up again in “Rockin’ Rockin’ Pet Store,” which is at least about a pet store. It’s an interesting song to hear in 2021, as the character hears increasingly dire financial news of the world but clings to the idea that their world is actually blossoming in unrealistic, magical ways. Given the other narrators in this world we can assume the “unrealistic” part, but what a headspace to vacation in for just a moment.

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.