Firewall

This is ridiculously impressive. I've not listened to Bright Eyes in many months... and yet the magic of reading these words floods back as if I was hearing Lifted for the first time again. Viva la Conor.

From The People's Key digital booklet:

I do my best to sleep through the caterwaul The classicists, the posturing avant-garde I bought a grey macaw named him Jules Verne He'll probably outlive me he's a bright bird Keeps me company I teach him new words

I saw a hologram at the theme park She looked as real as me through the white fog Then she melted down to her ankles Turned into a million-watt candle If I knew where she went I would follow

Walking through the land of tomorrow Martian trinkets, plastic Apollos In the sunshine try to act normal My veins are full of flat cherry-cola Slept on a bench by the rollercoaster

Dreamt I was riding on a motorbike Lion of Judah painted on the side

I'm doing fine, I'm back in the Palisades Life's a wash, a pastoral school play China shops and cold ivory towers I and I make toasts to the Caesars Forcing down the dregs of Decembers

Madeline she spins in a slow bang All through the house the strong smell of burnt sage Let's make it clean and run out the spirits I know a diving bell when I hear it We're going down now under the surface

Light to dark can shift in an instant Feeling close but keeping my distance On all fours she's just so insistent Fills my mind with jump ropes and slit wrists Bust through the Firewall into heaven

Then I'm standing in that blinding light Crooked crossed falling from the sky

Seen yeah seen by I and I

From Bright Eyes' official listening party on Youtube where the lyrics were shown on a projector:

"Melted down to a million-watt candle" "Martian trinkets, plastic Apollos" "In the sunshine, try to act normal My veins are full of flat cherry cola" "Life's a wash, a pastoral school play" "I and I make toasts to the Caesars" "Madeline, she spins in a slow bang" "I know a diving bell when I hear it" "We're going down now under the surface" "Fills my mind with jump ropes and slit wrists"

Seen, yeah, seen by I and I...

I remember learning in elementary school that some cultures burn incense in houses to rid the houses of evil spirits, I think that's what he's talking about with the "burnt sage..." lines. I also feel like this song, as well as a lot of the rest of the album, is talking about heaven or what else there might be after life. And here, when he talks about the hologram woman melting, he says he'd follow her if he was sure of where she was going. That's a reason many people choose to follow religion as it is, a sense of knowing what happens when we die. So I think it's partially about a fear of dying, or just the general uncertainty about death.

Like classic Bright Eyes, this song is layered and image-filled... It's also typical in its stream of consciousness style jumping from topic to topic in an effort to string together deeper meaning (perhaps) or perhaps I'm just a posturing poster. One thing that stands out to me is his repeated imagery of love being revelation/illumination, and sex as (bad?) religion... I'm not sure if it works, but it's a theme I've seen before

I've noticed something really interesting :

Denny Brewer , the guy who does the intro , speaks of some Alien creatures and describes thusly : "They had snake-like eyes, a tail, and, uh, scales, right?"

Now an excerpt from the intro to Fevers and Mirrors , where a kid reads the story " Mitchell is moving":

"And you look at me and think, same old face, same old tail, same old scales

Since face and eyes are almost the same I think it seems to me that it's not really a coincidence

what are your thoughts on that ?

I also believe much of this album explores the dmt our body releases when we die. Check it out on wikipedia. It is a chemical we all have in our bodies and some scientists believe it causes us to hallucinate when we die (this is one explanation for near death experiences)

They have done studies with DMT and many people reported experiences with 'reptilian creatures' some of which where loving and others horrifying.

So if you think about. Life can be a series of hallucinations. Dreams within dreams.

It's not about Disneyland, and sorry for my terrible spell check. It's about this Post-Apocalyptic world and breaking free from that through the Firewall. Maybe a theme park is an example of how run down and ridiculous the world may seem at this point.

First--before anything--I have to say that this is an awesome song. Lyrically beautiful.

To me, then, the song is interestingly layered but overall about combating loneliness. Here me out: The first part (“I bought a grey macaw, named him Jules Verne / He’ll probably outlive me, he’s a bright bird / Keeps me company, I teach him new words”) seems to be about language. Or, more rather, the power language has to–at the very least–make us feel less lonely. First he names the bird Jules Verne, this is a reference to the author (of course) but also maybe to the idea that when you read books (be it Verne or Beckett or Bolaño) you’re somewhat communicating on some level with that author, or, to be less specific, at least with the ether of the author’s ideas. Secondly, he teaches the bird to speak, hinting toward language or communication again curing us of loneliness, or hinting toward an attempt to use language to cure loneliness.

Too, the hologram part seems like another strive at connection, but (now that I look at it again) it could actually be, interestingly enough, how the forming of a relationship (be it dating or simply friendship or whatever) has happened but the connection has either soured or not been there in the first place, or paradoxically the relationship itself being the driving force of loneliness in the speaker. Think about it, “The she melted down to her ankles / Turned into a million-watt candle / If I knew where she went, I would follow.” How could you not know where a million-watt candle went? Hyperbole aside, it’d be bright as shit. That makes me think that he’s lying to himself. That he doesn’t want to follow an unsatisfying connection if such a thing just leads to loneliness in the long run.

The line “Dreamt I was riding on a motorbike / Lion of Judah painted on the side” is, again, an attempt to battle loneliness, but in a different way. Where the human connection failed earlier, the speaker seems to be trying to find a connection in both a sociological aspect and a religious or spiritual aspect. References to the Lion of Judah can be found in Christianity, Judaism, and Rastafarian, and in all three the reference is toward a tribe of Judah. ‘Tribe’ connoting a sense of place, of belonging (which, then, would certainly lead to a destroyed sense of loneliness).

“I’m doing fine, I’m back in the Palisades” seems to be a last-ditch effort to essentially feel better, a retreat inside oneself. Traditionally a ‘palisade’ is (from the NOAD): “a fence of wooden stakes or iron railings fixed in the ground, forming an enclosure or defense.” However, the speaker uses the word as a proper noun and (with the definite article in front of it) is probably referring to (again from the NOAD) “a ridge of high basalt cliffs that line the western side of the Hudson River, in New Jersey and in New York, beginning across from New York City in New Jersey and extending north to Newburgh in New York.” You all more than likely know this and I’ve probably just insulted you by repeating it. I’m sorry. But, taken what the Palisades is and combining that with the definition of ‘palisade’ you get a sort of natural protective barrier, which I think is what the speaker is doing. Naturally (as in ‘doing what comes natural’ not ‘belonging to nature’) retreating inside himself. A sort of defense mode.

Still, although he feels comfort now, his attempt to connect, to battle loneliness is stunted. Life, for him, has turned into a series of motions. The “pastoral school play” part seems to simply refer to a bad attempt to romanticize his situation (in art [i.e. visual art] ‘pastoral’ often refers to a piece portraying country life in a romanticized form, and usually in literature or really every-day-speak, referring to something as a ‘school play’ connotes a tedious and ill-gained situation). “China shops and cold ivory towers” again refer to the speaker’s inability to make a connection. In this case, he is the ‘bull in the China shop,’ unable to form lasting, unbreakable relationships, forcing him to retreat to a safe (but lonely) ivory tower of sorts (again a retreat inside himself). “I and I make toast to the Caesars” to me simply means being virtually alone, or feeling virtually alone, for that matter.

Madeline I do think is a real person (or, at least, real to the speaker) and another connection attempt for him. But, I think both sides of the Madeline debate on here are essentially right. Like I said, I think she’s a real person, but I also think she’s a very spiritual person and someone the speaker is maybe jealous of. She’s found a way (a personal way) to make lasting connections and successfully battles loneliness, and the speaker knows this, wants this more than anything. The line “I know a diving bell when I hear it” I think refers to his attempt to connect to something the way she does. A diving bell (again [and I know you’re tired of this already] from the NOAD) is: “an open-bottomed chamber supplied with compressed air, in which a person can be let down under water.” But, traditionally diving bells were used as a sort of base or means of transport for a small number of divers, so, both the speaker and Madeline are going (via diving bell, if you will) “under the surface” of her religion or spirituality to attempt to form the aforementioned connection.

This, however, leads to sex (“Light to dark can shift in an instant / On all fours she’s just so insistent”), but whereas a sexual connection with a person would/could be (and is) such a good thing and amazing (possibly life changing) experience for the speaker, he however cannot connect with her, and the meaningless sex (where it may be good for some) simply reminds the speaker of horrible times (“Fills my mind with jump ropes and slit wrists”).

The final bit of the song (“Then I’m standing in that blinding light / Crooked crosses falling from the sky / Seen yeah seen by I and I”) seems to be another last-ditch effort by the speaker to stifle loneliness through personal experience.

All of this, of course, is up in the air. We all know that interpretation is 90% subjective. However, given that, this is just the way I see it. In fact, the entire album (to me) seems to be transitioning in and out of this overarching theme: combating loneliness. Finding something (be it religion, spirituality, humanity, et cetera et cetera) to get you through the day. And this song (in a very Nietzscheian sort of way) destroys all preconceived notions and paradigms in order to build up new, personal ones.

All in all, again, fucking amazing song.

This is such an insane song. It took me a couple listens to get into the spoken intro, but now I absolutely love it. I had thought, after a few disappointing side projects (both Mystic Valley Band records, Monsters of Folk) that Oberst might have lost his edge, but... if this is really the last Bright Eyes record, then he's going out with a big, honking bang. The record is fairly close to perfect, and I love it.