064. Age of Kings

As the star-crossed lovers of the album, the couple in “Age of Kings” meets the only end such lovers can meet.

Track: “Age of Kings”
Album: All Eternals Deck (2011)

“Age of Kings” is another of the tarot cards on All Eternals Deck. Every song on the album is supposedly a different card in a supposedly lost tarot deck, and this one must be the Star-Crossed Lovers card. The song opens with the couple hiding in a stone tower, but the line “why should we hide from anyone?” tells you all you need to know about where they stand. They love their love, and that’s honestly fairly rare in the world of the Goats.

The couple agonizes over hiding and protecting themselves in this sad tale. They decry their time as the “age of kings” and “the lost age.” They talk about the sword in “the waiting stone.” They live in fantastical times, but they have a very relatable problem and that problem is about to be solved in a very negative way. You generally don’t want wolves in your hallway, but you definitely don’t want them to be “gaining ground.”

While it’s a fairly straightforward song lyrically, the melancholy delivery and the strings really add some detail. Musically it fits on the album, but it doesn’t have the strong message that a lot of the rest of the tarot cards. What do these lovers want us to know about their plight, beyond its sadness? What, beyond love, has been lost here? For John Darnielle and All Eternals Deck the passing feeling of sadness for lovers from another time is enough, but it may leave some listeners curious for more detail. That said, “felt like God’s anointed // when you didn’t push me away” are some all-time lines, and things like that keep a song memorable long after the first listen.

063. Night Light

 

Jenny from “All Hail West Texas” shows up in “Night Light” as a source of lost hope for a troubled narrator.

Track: “Night Light”
Album: Transcendental Youth (2012)

Transcendental Youth explodes with songs like “Harlem Roulette,” “Amy AKA Spent Gladiator 1,” and “The Diaz Brothers.” Those three are all-timers and they’re united as “fun” songs, even if they’re anthems about outcasts. The entire album is about the afflicted and the alone, but those three stand out so clearly that it can be easy to gloss over some of the slower tracks. Let’s not do that.

If “Spent Gladiator 2” is the song you play as you approach the end, “Night Light” is the song you play at night in motels stays on the drive to the end. The narrator is panicked, clearly, but possibly with good reason. “Counterfeit Florida Plates” on the same album describes a paranoid person who is actually hiding from nothing, but this person might have actual heat on them. While the “ambitious young policemen” probably aren’t real, they’re plugging in literal and metaphorical night lights because those “small dark corners” have some real evil in them.

It’s interesting that the “evil” there has to do with Jenny, a figure any Goats fan will recognize from All Hail West Texas. Jenny and our narrator have a history — we can infer that it’s romantic, but it might just as easily be a deeper dependency than that — and they have no present. She calls them from Montana, but by the end they just know “possibly Jenny’s headed east.” There’s no blame here and there’s no explanation of what happened. All we know is what the narrator tells us: Jenny is out there headed out from Montana and they’re in here using night lights to run from a darkness that’s following them around.

062. Orange Ball of Love

In “Orange Ball of Love” one lover finally gives up and gets serious about the confrontation he’s been avoiding.

Track: “Orange Ball of Love
Album: Zopilote Machine (1994)

There are four “Orange Ball” songs: Love, Hate, Peace, and Pain. “Peace” and “Hate” both have really solid jokes in them and they’re funny songs. “Pain” is, predictably, very sad. “Orange Ball of Love” is more difficult to diagnose. The four songs are tied together only by naming convention, and John Darnielle has said that they aren’t meant to be connected any other way. Rather than comparing it with the other three, it’s better to look at “Orange Ball of Love” as a part of the album Zopilote Machine. It’s a really angry album, which isn’t surprising given songs titles like “Standard Bitter Love Song #7” and “We Have Seen the Enemy,” but “Orange Ball of Love” is interesting beyond the anger.

It opens with some twangy guitar and John’s familiar snarl in the line “when I catch sight of your face.” By the end of the stanza the narrator is trying to find “a good place to hide.” He accuses his target of “wearing a wire.” It goes beyond figurative language to the point where you have to consider that this may be a person confronting an actual enemy. Lots of Goats songs are about lovers in their darkest moments, but the confrontation is rarely this dramatic.

Whether you think it’s figurative or not isn’t really important. The language is severe enough that either works. When the sun sets it sets into a “burial ground.” When it rises it “rears up” and “swallows” the couple. These are people in a standoff and the narrator has decided he’s going to come clean about how he feels about all this. You feel the corner he’s in, even if you’ve never had to accuse someone of giving you a fake name like this guy does.

061. Adair

 

“Adair” is a wavering, quiet love song about the kind of moment you remember for the rest of your life.

Track: “Adair”
Album: Jack and Faye (Unreleased, recorded 1995 or 1996)

The title of Jack and Faye comes from the stars of Chinatown. John Darnielle never released it, but you can download it freely from the Goats’ website and the standout “Raid on Entebbe” gets played live from time to time. If you’re a fan, all of those details combine to form a mythos that’s undeniable. Chinatown has a strangeness about it despite being one of the greatest films of all time and the Goats are very particular about what they release and don’t release. That should pique your interest for a love song on such an album.

In the interest of disclosure, “Adair” has always been one of my favorite love songs. The specificity of a scar that “runs clear from your temple to your jawline” and “the blazing dead center of July” create a clear picture of two lovers who have spent a lot of time together. They know the contours of their lover perfectly, and we all have that memory of one small imperfection of another person that made them feel special.

There is so much longing in “Adair.” The line “all my hopes hung on one gorgeous promise” is dripping with sentiment and it’s impossible to remain unmoved when you hear it. John Darnielle delivers the song with a wavering, quiet tone and it may not strike you if you’re not in the right mood. But if you listen to “Adair” when you’re feeling wistful, it will signal boost that emotion perfectly. “I want to tell you what the sky has done to me // I want you to tell me who we are” is the kind of sentiment that might seem sappy in the wrong place, but in “Adair” it will remind you of a forgotten moment with someone you absolutely never forget.

 

060. Horseradish Road

“Horseradish Road” features two lovers who can’t quite end their story without a last moment of reflection.

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

The Coroner’s Gambit is aptly named. It’s one of the heaviest Mountain Goats albums, even though that feels like a big claim to lay on it. Songs like “Baboon” and “Family Happiness” are contenders for the angriest moments in Goats history and “Shadow Song” and “Elijah” speak directly with death. Even the love song references darkness in its title: “There Will Be No Divorce.” On such an album, what would you expect John Darnielle to say in his song about two lovers?

“Horseradish Road” is complex. I’ll confess that I had to look up both pop culture references in the song: the beleaguered, depressed opera singer Maria Callas and the musical cryptogram Enigma Variations. You can go down a big information hole and read about them online, but their use in this song is very simple. Callas had an impossible life and was driven to be the greatest of her time and Variations contains an unsolvable puzzle. They are both beautiful and impossible. The couple in “Horseradish Road” is surrounding themselves with lovely things that they deliberately can’t fix.

“You’ve done something awful // I’ve done something worse” is a solid Goats lyric, and it largely sums up the ethos of John Darnielle’s lovers who are past the point of no return. It’s rare that lovers assign blame in both directions, but the Goats are always careful to mention that neither person can be fully blamed for any demise. It’s always a joint decision, and despite the beautiful violin and the high-minded cultural references, “Horseradish Road” boils down to one seething person looking at another reprehensible one. They aren’t quite finished, but every Goats song is about that very long moment where it’s too late, but it’s not quite over.

059. Going to Spain

John Darnielle calls “Going to Spain” one of the saddest songs he’s ever written, and he sells it with a pained delivery.

Track: “Going to Spain”
Album: The Hound Chronicles (1992)

There are “early” songs and then there’s The Hound Chronicles. There’s officially an album before it, but The Hound Chronicles feels like the first real complete release. Songs like “The Garden Song” and “Going to Chino” are perfect bridges between what the original sound of the Mountain Goats was and the themes that the band still loves to explore. There’s always room for the weirdest of the early songs, but it’s in the ones that would still sound reasonable now (cleaned up a little, of course) that you can hear the eternal John Darnielle. From “Going to Alaska” on the first album to Beat the Champ‘s opener “Southwestern Territory,” Darnielle’s interest in the downtrodden has never waned.

“Going to Spain” is a little more on-the-nose than the material on Get Lonely, the modern breakup album, but not by much. “You’re gonna leave me now // but I don’t care” and “go on and leave me // I don’t care anymore” are classic boasts from a hurt lover, but they hit even harder here because Darnielle delivers them full of pain rather than anger. It’s a narrator that’s trying to act tough, not someone trying to wound their partner. “I see you hold his hand // I see you wave goodbye” is sad, but “I don’t know you anymore // so I’m not going to cry now” is even sadder because it’s a lie.

With the rest of the catalog the way it is, it would be possible to wonder what this person has done to deserve this fate. With no judgement offered in the song either way, it’s not possible for us to attribute blame. That keeps this song one of the saddest in the collection, and you can feel it in how hard Darnielle tries to keep it together when he plays it.

058. Teenage World

In “Teenage World,” the narrator is baffled by a present from someone they’re clearly fed up with in other ways.

Track: “Teenage World”
Album: Transmissions to Horace (1993) and Bitter Melon Farm (1999)

At a show in 2014, John Darnielle played every song from Transmissions to Horace and repeatedly referenced it with some self-deprecating commentary. Darnielle mostly walks a line between “the old songs aren’t as good” and “there are people who love these old songs” and the result is that everything gets played, but some of it gets played with a bit of a smile.

During “Teenage World” at that old-school set, Darnielle got one line into the song before he had to ask the crowd for a line. When you have hundreds and hundreds of songs in your catalog, you can be forgiven for not remembering every detail about all of them. I’ve always found it endearing that Darnielle is willing to play songs that he still loves but might not really know anymore. There are stories of fans having to pull up lyrics on their phone to help the band get through particularly obscure moments, but my favorite is a live performance of “Riches and Wonders” where Darnielle forgot a line, only to hear one lone female voice help out with “we are strong!” from the crowd. A Goats show is a unique experience, but a Goats show with older songs is something else entirely.

“Teenage World” is fairly straightforward: the narrator gets a gift of a rabbit and doesn’t know what it’s supposed to signify. They decide to make the best of it and drive the rabbit into the rich part of town while they roll on down the highway pumped up full of recreational ADHD drugs. It’s specific, but that feeling of not understanding your significant other is very relatable. “I’m sick and tired of trying to figure out your gestures?” We’ve all been there.

057. Hatha Hill

The meaning of “Hatha Hill” will change depending on who you ask, but that ambiguous nature feels intentional.

Track: “Hatha Hill”
Album: Orange Raja, Blood Royal (1995) and Ghana (1999)

There are four songs on Orange Raja, Blood Royal and they really deserve to be listened to as one unit. The singles and EPs are less thematically cohesive than the full length releases, but this one is certainly united in other ways. The droning, eerie “Blood Royal” sets the stage and comes off as especially haunting with guest Alastair Galbraith’s violin. “The Only Thing I Know” is more familiar snarling between lovers, but again Galbraith sets the song apart as unique with harmonica accompaniment. “Raja Vocative” is the standout, with some beautiful violin and true pain in John Darnielle’s vocals and lyrics. Where does that leave the closer “Hatha Hill?”

The shorter songs from the early days can sometimes feel slight in comparison to the explosive fury of “Oceanographer’s Choice” or the scene changes of “The Mess Inside.” People aren’t screaming for “Hatha Hill” when they see the Mountain Goats, but that doesn’t mean it can be glossed over. It deserves attention because of its placement on such a great single, even if “Raja Vocative” is the one that’s endured.

There’s a lot tied up in very few words. “As the sun went away // you were sending out signals” will mean something different to you than it means to me, and John Darnielle’s relatively liberal allowance for “what this song means” in general leaves enough room for everyone to be right. The exact intention of what “sugar” is in this song is almost certainly impossible to derive, but it doesn’t really matter. The lines about sugar exist to get to the ending, which you can read as part of the grand tradition of Mountain Goats narrators being distrustful or you can start the song over and continue to look for specific meaning in what may be an intentionally undecipherable song.

056. It Froze Me

“It Froze Me” is one of the few true love songs that doesn’t examine the bad that sometimes follows the good.

Track: “It Froze Me”
Album: Nothing for Juice (1996)

Nothing for Juice has “Going to Scotland” on it, so you would be forgiven for missing that it has an even better love song. John Darnielle is explicit when he introduces “It Froze Me” live. He almost always seems to say — and says this this exactly — “this is a love song.” You don’t get that level of specificity from Darnielle often, and you get that succinct of an answer even less often. He’s a wordsmith and he’s given to lengthy, beautiful descriptions of his work. When he tells you “this is a love song” you have to stand up and take notice.

There doesn’t seem to be much else to consider for “It Froze Me,” but that’s what makes it special. “Going to Scotland” can be taken a dozen ways and every way is “right.” With “It Froze Me,” it’s just one person seeing one other person and being locked in space and time as they consider their connection. In the middle of a career about divorce and destruction there exists one song about which all you can say is “this is a love song.”

As you unfold the catalog and you consider the development of John Darnielle the songwriter alongside the development of John Darnielle the person growing up in the world, you latch on to different elements. Maybe in your low points you think “Waving at You” is your anthem. Maybe in your most solitary you find some hope in “Wild Sage.” Maybe when you’re stricken with guilt you consider what “Cotton” means to other guilt-stricken people. John Darnielle has often said that he hopes his songs are there for you when you need something to sing, and “It Froze Me” is his song for you and yours in the good times.

055. Palmcorder Yajna

“Palmcorder Yajna” may be the most plainly stated Mountain Goats song about the day-to-day of an addict.

Track: “Palmcorder Yajna”
Album: We Shall All Be Healed (2004)

The term “single” is a strange one. For “the song of the Summer” and whatnot it still makes sense, but for a band like the Mountain Goats it mostly strikes me as an interesting bit of trivia. The people that are going to get consumed by an album of songs about tweakers in the Pacific Northwest aren’t going to do it because they heard the single. Sometimes it’s fascinating to find out what the “single” is from an album. That said for some albums, the single from the anti-meth-but-mostly-just-reflective-about-meth We Shall All Be Healed is “Palmcorder Yajna” and it couldn’t really be anything else.

“Letter from Belgium” rocks enough (and was the second single as a result) and “Pigs That Ran Straightaway into the Water, Triumph Of” is fun enough that it was recently played on Late Night with Seth Meyers, but the perfectly sneered vocals and infectious drums of “Palmcorder Yajna” leave no room for dispute. You might call it “fun” the first few times you hear it. The scream of “if anybody comes to see me // tell ’em they just missed me by a minute // if anybody comes into our room while we’re asleep // I hope they incinerate everybody in it” is peak yelling John Darnielle, and it makes this the kind of song even a casual fan can appreciate.

Under the surface, it’s terrifying. The opening lines describe Holt Boulevard, where a younger John Darnielle was told to tell the cops he bought his heroin if he ever got caught, because there were too many dealers for the cops to ever figure out which he meant. The Travelodge of “Palmcorder Yajna” is really the setting for all the terror on the album, and it may be the closest to perspective that Darnielle ever lets his addicts get.