White Stripes: Get Behind Me Satan

--Over view
--Music Index

Get Behind Me Satan is elemental. Natural. It’s about the most simple, most primordial, most universal, most basic, yet most personally dramatic experiences that people can have: love, betrayal, longing, reversals of fortune, frustration, death, coming to terms. The album’s minimalist approach to instrumentation matches its minimalist approach to theme—its eccentric approach to style and arrangement matches its eccentric way of presenting theme. And the result is Beatlesesque. Poe inspired. Robustly human in a big, biblical way. The result is a great album, even without the White Stripes’ history of great albums.

Like later Beatles music, the Detroit-based White Stripes have always had an aura of “artsiness� and meaning about their music. “What do Jack White’s mysterious, childlike lyrics mean?� we ask, much as people used to ask, “Who is the walrus?� “What does this cover artwork mean?� we ask, much as people did with Sergeant Pepper. “What are they really like?� we ask of the band—Jack and Meg White, who have variously been thought to be brother and sister, husband and wife, or not related at all (turns out, they’re ex-husband-and-wife)—much as the personal lives of the Fab Four have always intrigued. There’s an enjoyment that comes from the apparent symbolic meaning of the music, the lyrics, the artwork, the color-coordinated costumes, the lives—an enjoyment that can definitely be had with GBMS. It’s enjoyable to wonder why, for example, Jack does things like adding the sound of a phone ringing over a line in “Take, Take, Take�—my personal favorite track. Or why the songs end the way they do, begin the way they do, feature particular instruments, become exercises in stereo panning or using chorus and reverb. Everything, the aura of the band gives the sense, is there for a reason.

And many times on GBMS, this sense of symbolic meaning facilitates songs that are dark, Edgar Allan Poe inspired narratives. “The Nurse� is a tale of danger, where the one you trust is exactly the one you shouldn’t. In “Little Ghost,� the storyteller is in love with an “apparition� that only he can see. “Take, Take, Take� finds its narrator in a “seedy� bar, where he encounters 1940s actress Rita Hayworth. Is it really happening? Is she a ghost? Is this the past? “Red Rain� has the same feel: the speaker stands in the “red rain� (blood?), calling for a girl who never answers. All of this has shades of Poe’s obsessions with betrayal, with unattainable or dead women, with fixation and love. Shades of “The Cask of Amontillado,� “The Raven,� “Annabel Lee.� And don’t forget that Poe married his cousin and wrote about incest—here the White Stripes toy with the idea of incest in “Passive Manipulation,� as they have in the past.

Like the Beatles did with the White Album, the White Stripes have created their most eclectic album with GBMS. “Blue Orchid� reprises their common guitar-plus-drums sound, but after that, everything is in play. Piano dominates many tracks, marimba two. The guitars are sometimes acoustic, sometimes played with a slide, sometimes sped-up with effects. Tambourine? Check. Fiddles? Check. Mandolin? Check. Depending on which song you hear, you might call this album folk, blues, country, rock, pop, soul, etc. The arrangements on GBMS are also unique, with not a traditional, verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus arrangement in sight. If you’ve listened to previous White Stripes albums, it’s probably enough to say that this album is lighter and different—not as “rocking,� but in an interesting, “experimental,� and good way.

Thematically, lyrically, Get Behind Me Satan is about those elemental experiences. Nearly every offering involves love and its accoutrements, usually negative ones. “Forever for Her (Is Over for Me)� is about losing someone, that someone being with someone else, and wanting that someone back. In “My Doorbell,� the singer is wanting someone to come back, yet wanting to be strong enough to not want that person back. “The Denial Twist:� infidelity, denial, moving on. “Take, Take, Take� and “As Ugly as I Seem,� to me, create a two-song suite about fame and the love of fans—a fan ambushes Rita Hayworth in a bar, Jack pleads for us to let him be him—but this is still riffing on love. “I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet)� finishes off the album with some humor, the same bitter-sweet longing for companionship, love, and family, yet a headstrong attitude.

Given all of this, is there a grand, overarching meaning to the whole of GBMS? A theme that would encompass, perhaps, the album cover, title, and lyrical content? I think so—at least, I have a theory. Starting with the cover: obvious religious references, Meg holding an apple like Eve, Jack holding something (is it supposed to be phallic?), with their backs to each other, fingers almost touching a la Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel, all under the ever-listening microphone (God? Fans?). Okay, we’ll come back to all that. The title: Get Behind Me Satan—another biblical reference. Jesus says, “Get behind me Satan� to Peter when he tries to stop Jesus from the course of action he’d chosen. Okay, I see a theme of moving on. Getting past someone else’s issues, even if that person doesn’t get their own issues. Doing what you have to do.

Does any of this fit with the actual lyrical themes? Definitely. Looking at each song, nearly every one features some kind of reversal or juxtaposition—a way it was and a way it has to be now. Each song features something to move on from. And it all kicks off with “Blue Orchid,� the only song to refer to the album’s title. Someone (Satan?) has “took a white orchid, turned it blue.� To me, this bespeaks the ultimate reversal, juxtaposition, betrayal: the biblical fall from innocence—definitely a theme Jack White is interested in. And, Jack is saying, this is the kind of thing, the kind of person, to “get behind� you. To move on from. On the cover, Jack and Meg have embraced their respective “things,� but have put each other behind, in the past . . . though the fingers betray that painful connection that’s still there, that requires songwriting.

So is it all just specifically about the Whites themselves? Is this an album about Jack and Meg splitting up? Moving on? I can’t say for sure, but I can say that the album applies to us all. Like the Bible itself, this is a big, eclectic collection of songs about the human experience, all circling around the theme that’s most central—conflict and resolution. Getting Satan behind you. And, like reading the Bible, listening to Get Behind Me Satan is like seeing yourself, and everyone you know, through a really interesting microscope. It magnifies, tells the truth, focuses on what’s important, gives insight, identifies your place, suggests future action. Like reading the Bible, listening to this album is a distinctly human activity, and definitely worthwhile.

--Over view
--Music Index

Wedding Crashers

—Overview
—Photos
—About this Film
—Spiritual Connections

Wedding Crashers starts off with a great premise, degenerates into raunchy American Pie/Meet the Parents shtick, finally resorts to romantic comedy clichés, and for the most part, I loved it. Wilson and Vaughn, each playing off his own well-established movie (and public) persona, hold this film together enough to make it worth a watch.

[Beware of the Spoilers!]

As previews have made abundantly clear, what you have here are two “guy’s guys.� Guys who arrive, uninvited, at wedding after wedding, choose back-stories, fake names, female targets, and then, with the words “I’m gonna get drunk� on their lips, rush in for the “kill.� It sounds fun, it looks fun, and for a while—years, according to the story—it is fun. But of course, we join the boys not long before Wilson’s character begins to tire of this empty ritual, and starts to question the whole endeavor.

With Vaughn’s prompting, the boys crash one more wedding. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s at this wedding that Wilson meets a girl (Rachel McAdams) that he’s legitimately interested in. Not as a conquest, but as a person. As someone, perhaps, to love. The girl’s father (Christopher Walken), it turns out, is the Treasury Secretary, but that doesn’t stop Wilson from getting himself and Vaughn—who has already “scored� with the Secretary’s other daughter—invited to the family’s estate for the weekend, fake names and back-stories in tow.

Hilarity ensues, McAdams is engaged to a real jerk, Wilson falls for her, the boys have their cover blown, Vaughn ends up with the sister, Wilson is saved from his suicidal grief over losing the girl by a revelation brought on by Will Ferrell (!), and it all culminates with that obligatory, romantic comedy “rush to the altar� scene, and a happy ending.

As a story, the movie works, though it is certainly formulaic. With romantic comedies, however, I think the formula is expected, and even appreciated when done right. This movie does do it right—even giving an on-screen nod to the formula when Wilson asks if it’d be cliché to kiss McAdams at the end of the “rush to the altar� scene. It is, but that’s okay. The performances of the actors are also a plus. Wilson makes a great straight-man, Vaughn has hilarious frat-boy appeal, and Christopher Walken does a fine job of being intimidating, believable, and funny—a cooler, more rounded version of DiNero’s Jack Byrnes. There are plenty of memorable, one-liner-type moments in this film. Lots of humorous, though sometimes stereotypical, insight into how men are, and how women are. Many, many laughs.

The main weakness of the film has to do with how intent the filmmakers were on showing a full range of change in Wilson’s character. Vaughn’s character changes, but it’s a simple change—and one we aren’t as invested in because Vaughn is the movie’s main source of comic relief, making him and his relationships more ridiculous. But with Wilson, there are no less than four major shifts in character, and that kind of thing takes lots of screen time. It’s great to have such a dynamic character, and it does fit with the story, but watching it flesh-out gives the movie a start-stop quality, and makes it about fifteen minutes too long.

But these character changes, though tedious, also facilitate some of Wedding Crashers’ most significant spiritual insights: using other people is vacuous, we all need someone to love us, there’s a sense of destiny about those “chance� connections that people make with each other, everything in moderation. Granted, none of these are staggering insights, and most of them are standard romantic comedy fare, but the difference is that the insights here are aimed at guys. A romantic comedy, typically, is aimed more towards women—featuring character and story types that appeal, traditionally, to women. But this movie, which will likely appeal to guys more, will hopefully actually speak its positive messages to real-life womanizers, users, and the like.

All told, this is a fun movie. The shock-value comedy will turn-off some viewers, but it’s a great date-movie choice for those who want to see a true, appeal-to-the-guys comedy, with chick-flick sensibilities—for me, only How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days has come this close in the past. And if you know any real-life, party-boy “wedding crashers,� invite them to see this . . . it may just get them to consider the error of their ways.

—Overview
—Photos
—About this Film
—Spiritual Connections

Weezer: Make Believe

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— Music review index

If you went to school during the 90s (like I did), then you probably remember Weezer. “Oh, yeah—the ‘Buddy Holly’ guys!� you’ll say. Or maybe: “yeah, the ‘Sweater Song’ guys,� or “yeah, the ‘Say It Ain’t So’ guys.� In any case, Weezer is “back.� But if you’re a real Weezer fan, you know that the “Hash Pipe� guys never went anywhere. Over the past 10-plus years, they’ve released five albums, though none has been as popular as 94’s Weezer (the “blue album�). Incidentally, if you don’t know who Weezer is—if you didn’t go to school during the 90s, if none of the above song titles jog your memory—then do yourself a favor and buy Weezer and 1996’s Pinkerton. These two albums represent some of the best indie rock/emo/power pop music you’ll find anywhere (“Say It Ain’t So� and “Across the Sea,� in my opinion two of the best songs ever written, are worth the price by themselves).

So, it’s 2005 and Weezer is “back� with Make Believe. Having lived with the album for a month or so now, my feelings about it have solidified some, but are still kind of ambivalent. Part of me wants to love Make Believe because it “sounds like Weezer,� and I love how Weezer sounds. Yet part of me hoped it’d be different because, well, it “sounds like Weezer,� and I was looking for some growth. Don’t get me wrong, the album is a standout when compared to other contemporary offerings. But in the context of this band, I long to see singer/songwriter Rivers Cuomo, after 10-plus years, finally reach that “higher plane� he refers to in the liner lyrics for “We Are All on Drugs.� Really, I long for Rivers to see that the 10-plus years of lovable whining, being introspective, being self-effacing—usually about girls, yes, but pining after love can so easily be metaphorical—have really been 10-plus years of seeking God. And I want to tell him that God is ready to find him. And that you don’t get more “higher plane� than that. And that . . . well, more on that later.

Like I’ve been indicating, Make Believe is a solid album. The guitars are punchy when they need to be, jangly when they need to be, clean when they need to be. The solo work is some of Weezer’s best. Vocally, the band continues its tradition of beautiful melodies, catchy choruses, and clean, retro-fifties harmonies. That retro-fifties sound extends to the chord progressions—another Weezer staple—especially on “Pardon Me,� “Hold Me,� and “The Other Way.� Partially because of the addition of keyboards, Make Believe also has a retro-eighties sound in a few places, particularly on “This is Such a Pity� and “The Damage in Your Heart.� Structurally, nearly every song on this album is super-tight. We’re talking verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus tight. And while I appreciate the adherence to the pop song bible, this is one place where Weezer could definitely stand some development.

Now, before moving on to Make Believe’s lyrics, its time for some random value assigning: “My Best Friend� wins the award for Best Beatles Song Not Written by The Beatles. “Beverly Hills,� the album’s first single, is a not-so-good and way-too-obviously-calculated attempt to recreate that old Weezer novelty-song appeal that began with Weezer’s “The Sweater Song� and continued through Pinkerton’s “El Scorcho� and Maladroit’s “Keep Fishing�—all better songs. “Freak Me Out� gives the most specific and quirky insight into Rivers’ personality—something that older albums, thankfully, did lots more of. “Perfect Situation� is the most Weezerish sounding song on the album. “Haunt You Every Day,� if I had to pick, is probably the “best� all-around song on the album, yet I find myself listening to “We Are All On Drugs� more than anything else.

As for the lyrics, Make Believe offers traditional Weezer fare. Nearly every song is about how Rivers’ life, in some way, isn’t how he wants it to be. Honestly, if you were to piece together the main ideas of each of the album’s twelve tracks, you’d get something like: I’m a born loser, I’m lonely, the relationships I do have suck, I need someone to hold me, I need peace, drugs aren’t the answer, I’m kind of used to it, I’m sorry, I love you, I might give up, I feel scared and isolated, and I’ll haunt you when I’m gone. Probably no more exposition is needed to get back to the earlier point about Rivers needing God. To me, when someone is saying—emotionally, poignantly—“I need to find some peace,� that someone is ultimately talking about God, even if that someone hasn’t realized it yet. When someone sings, “I am terrified of all things/Frightened of the dark, I am/You are taller than a mountain/Deeper than the sea, you are/Hold me, hold me/Take me with you/’cause I’m lonely,� they’re ultimately singing to God, even if they’re singing to someone else on the surface. Those last lyrics, from “Hold Me,� may as well be taken right from the Psalms.

Thematically, then, Make Believe turns out to be about what lots of things are about: the need for God. And given the rumored pains Rivers has taken to find the peace he sings about—higher education, hiatuses from the band, apparent drug use, self-imposed celibacy, self-imposed isolation, meditation, obsessively prolific songwriting, etc.—I just hope he’ll see that it really is time to take things to that “higher plane,� and that it can happen. I mean, when you’re 25, singing about girls not liking you and being unfulfilled, it’s probably alright. But when you’re 35, and you’re still singing about the same thing, it’s probably not. And—God forbid it that this unlikely possibility be true—if you are past those 25-year-old issues, but are just faking it for your fan base, then it’s even worse.

So Rivers, if you’ve secretly moved on somehow, please let it come through in the music. But if you haven’t, or if you’re someone who feels like Rivers does . . . boy can God fill all that inter-connected void. He can be that “Peace� that you need. He can be there when you cry, “Hold Me.� He can be that “Best Friend.� He can take you to that “higher plane/Where things will never be the same.� Through Jesus, he can forgive all the things you know you’ve done wrong, answering that call to “Pardon Me.� Life may still suck sometimes—feelings may not always reflect spiritual reality—but the perspective, the context, the relevance that is lent by that spiritual reality will always be there in life, and with even more after.

In the end, Make Believe is most valuable as a snapshot of the soul in search of God—like the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, only with no answers at the end. And while I've definitely got some room in my record collection for albums like that—especially ones as listenable as this—I've got even more hope that this kind of searching will eventually lead to finding. The Bible says that God will be found when he is sought with a whole heart. Keep looking, Rivers, and I'll keep listening . . . and maybe the next Weezer album will find that “higher plane,� that fulfillment, moved out of the realm of Make Believe, and, finally, into the realm of reality.

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