"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
Aesop Rock - Antisocial
[looped sample]
It’s like antisocial
hazardous portion organically nourished couraged to flourish and muses often
Lunged nicotine dream missing languorous
Caution we proclaim until brain’s off like Sagittarius
Shield. Yield to the eye mescaline [??]
Stonegates marching moodily until plural styles immaculated beautifully.
Rudely awoke.
Sing rumble blue conglomerates sucking up lung while brushing parasitic critics to my left side.
I test glide kamikaze crashed to thoughtless on my preface.
The therapeutic unit recommended.
Now slow-mo Quasimotos teeter on ringleader status while I spit satellite photos while teetering on the stratus.
Sleepwalking the atlas after none. [??] my ninety-nine octane brain to one-oh-one.
Run to organize my mood like quarterize my wound and climb up.
Lovely samaritans line up like bar codes for a fraction of my factions.
The hollow of his hand beholds contraptions via
Amplified files collapsed in cacophonic conquest. My specs up.
More postille and docile insubordinance your phylum.
For a dotta asylum swarmed your coordinates. Rush
Must not sleep, must warn others.
I’ll tourniquet your turbulence then trample on your stutters.
If I could displace every vagrant in America with traces of my character the Earth would be a more pitiful habitat.
With infinite acres of auto-cry eight can aid ya. Swung open the nomenclature to obscure wool-lock trickery. Pure
Has not got tossed back by liquors supporting patience, working knuckles for audio duplication.
That’s like fiending for a purpose.
[looped sample]
Aesop Rock, prototype Robocop
Jabberwocky rocking on the highest hilltop.
I possess two siamese styles that’s like connected at the mic hollering monstrous.
Poly-tech impeded indidgy progress, deaf,
Swept off your meridian. It’s operation Start With a Slummy Raped Your Milk and Honey.
Can I like
Conjure up like all potent components of like
Middle siblings scribbling on his lonesome like
Hit him with my ninety-nine metal plated mics upon the wall, take them down, pass them round, rock them all. Bust it.
I’m forever building my City of Lost Children ripping rungs off your ladder at a
Sardonic smirk. Ebonics lurking where the crop circles got stamped out from the rain dance.
Tsunami rain blast tipped off like origami frames and sloppy braincasted class-a-piece mastered to capture your flag then flutter.
While slaves defy water, start roofing paper bags.
The magic-maker dragging devils to add triple sixes melted triple glitches on your console.
I calibrate my mics prior to claim and shit is rockable.
Unlock and pull a backdoor for the bounce.
While cannily panicking was the average. I broadcast modern boredom messes poetry pupils.
Caught up in scruples from the inimical nature of my program.
Elegant, the overcast password cursed on a tactless bastard, catatonic until personal practice mastered.
[looped sample]
[looped sample]
It’s like antisocial
hazardous portion organically nourished couraged to flourish and muses often
Lunged nicotine dream missing languorous
Caution we proclaim until brain’s off like Sagittarius
Shield. Yield to the eye mescaline [??]
Stonegates marching moodily until plural styles immaculated beautifully.
Rudely awoke.
Sing rumble blue conglomerates sucking up lung while brushing parasitic critics to my left side.
I test glide kamikaze crashed to thoughtless on my preface.
The therapeutic unit recommended.
Now slow-mo Quasimotos teeter on ringleader status while I spit satellite photos while teetering on the stratus.
Sleepwalking the atlas after none. [??] my ninety-nine octane brain to one-oh-one.
Run to organize my mood like quarterize my wound and climb up.
Lovely samaritans line up like bar codes for a fraction of my factions.
The hollow of his hand beholds contraptions via
Amplified files collapsed in cacophonic conquest. My specs up.
More postille and docile insubordinance your phylum.
For a dotta asylum swarmed your coordinates. Rush
Must not sleep, must warn others.
I’ll tourniquet your turbulence then trample on your stutters.
If I could displace every vagrant in America with traces of my character the Earth would be a more pitiful habitat.
With infinite acres of auto-cry eight can aid ya. Swung open the nomenclature to obscure wool-lock trickery. Pure
Has not got tossed back by liquors supporting patience, working knuckles for audio duplication.
That’s like fiending for a purpose.
[looped sample]
Aesop Rock, prototype Robocop
Jabberwocky rocking on the highest hilltop.
I possess two siamese styles that’s like connected at the mic hollering monstrous.
Poly-tech impeded indidgy progress, deaf,
Swept off your meridian. It’s operation Start With a Slummy Raped Your Milk and Honey.
Can I like
Conjure up like all potent components of like
Middle siblings scribbling on his lonesome like
Hit him with my ninety-nine metal plated mics upon the wall, take them down, pass them round, rock them all. Bust it.
I’m forever building my City of Lost Children ripping rungs off your ladder at a
Sardonic smirk. Ebonics lurking where the crop circles got stamped out from the rain dance.
Tsunami rain blast tipped off like origami frames and sloppy braincasted class-a-piece mastered to capture your flag then flutter.
While slaves defy water, start roofing paper bags.
The magic-maker dragging devils to add triple sixes melted triple glitches on your console.
I calibrate my mics prior to claim and shit is rockable.
Unlock and pull a backdoor for the bounce.
While cannily panicking was the average. I broadcast modern boredom messes poetry pupils.
Caught up in scruples from the inimical nature of my program.
Elegant, the overcast password cursed on a tactless bastard, catatonic until personal practice mastered.
[looped sample]
Lyrics submitted by soitgoesrambo
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Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
Tracy Chapman
I Can't Go To Sleep
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
No Surprises
Radiohead
Radiohead
Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
Page
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
There aren’t many things that’ll hurt more than giving love a chance against your better judgement only to have your heart crushed yet again. Ed Sheeran tells such a story on “Page.” On this track, he is devastated to have lost his lover and even more saddened by the feeling that he may never move on from this.
Plastic Bag
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
“Plastic Bag” is a song about searching for an escape from personal problems and hoping to find it in the lively atmosphere of a Saturday night party. Ed Sheeran tells the story of his friend and the myriad of troubles he is going through. Unable to find any solutions, this friend seeks a last resort in a party and the vanity that comes with it.
“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.
i love this song. that sample is so spooky and awesome. aesop rocks the shit.