Higher Beams

LIke most of A.C. Newman's lyrics, this one is a sort of hybrid of literal storytelling and evocative imagery. He begins with the line, "just out of frame, with a passenger's name." I think this is a reference to someone waiting at a train station to meet in incoming passenger, the way car services wait for someone at the airport with their name written on a piece of paper. The focus then shifts to the arriving passenger, "though you're freight pulled behind, it was always a battle to arrive at the station alive." "Freight pulled behind" suggests the passenger is an afterthought, using the thoroughly dehumanizing term "freight" to describe a person. I suspect the passenger is a troubled son or daughter given the reference to the "battle to arrive at the station alive." The rest of this first verse fills in more of the picture. "With all the bags to unpack. All the plans for the future to protect. Because we've come to expect the trains on time." For me, the troubled, who I'll refer to as the passenger, is coming home, maybe from school or living elsewhere - maybe they're living on their own but still young - to demanding parents with high expectations, perhaps this is what he is referring to with the term "higher beams."

The second verse seems to describe leaving the same train station after a (likely) unpleasant visit. "A cloud of steam and we're out of the gate. Not a fashionable late." That's pretty straightforward. Then, like he frequently does when writing about specific protagonists, Newman fleshes out our passenger with more detail. "Wearing long sleeves to hide the mark of Cain. Got it when I was young. Half eternal, half sung." The first part of the line I suspect refers to a tattoo the passenger has to keep hidden from the uptight, disapproving parents. The "half eternal, half sung" line is more ambiguous. Eternal might refer to the permanent nature of tattoos but "half sung" has me stumped. It could be nothing more than the way the words flow and sound together with the previous line. Newman seems to use both the meaning and the "sound" of words, both by themselves or as used in a sequence, as part of his aural picture-painting. It could just be that he liked the way the phrase sounded when sung.

The rest of the verse describes the familial discord. "Play a sour note long enough it's right. And our finishing moves were fight or flight." Stay in a bad relationship, even if it's with parents, and it seems "right" but it nevertheless descended into conflict. The reference to the "finishing moves" being either "fight or flight" suggests the conflict was never really resolved. Newman then returns to the "higher beams" metaphor. "The higher beams that temporarily blind, that change your mind." I've puzzled over this line. I think being blinded, even temporarily, by ambition for one's self or one's kids is the root of the unhappiness, but I'm less clear if the "your" in the last part, "that change your mind" is the passenger addressing the parent or the more general "your" that could refer to anyone. I suspect it's the latter and refer to how someone else's expectations for you can change your mind. About what is less clear. I'm sure the ambiguity is deliberate. A lyricist as gifted as Newman certainly could be clear if he wanted to. I personally love that aspect of his writing. His use of ambiguity amidst clarity reflects the messiness of human emotions and interactions.

Now, here's where the song, which for some reason sounds like an old Irish folk song to me delivers a stinging message to the antagonist. "Thank you. Thank you for nothing. I didn't want in." I didn't want in is presumably a reference to not wanting whatever acceptance or admission into the fold or life that could have been had they met the high expectations.

The third verse puts a finer point of the proceedings and further embellishes the portrait of a dysfunctional family. "Deep in the culture of fear. We all hate living here. But you know when you can't afford to leave? So you stay in the lines. Navigate the land mines. Should have gone for the guided tour, got lost. I could see what we've crossed. I knew the cost." The first four lines of the verse obviously paint a grim picture of a shitty place that nobody wants to live in but that our passenger can't get out of. I think the "guided tour" symbolizes the safer route that if taken could have prevented the unhappiness, but then Newman kind of does the head shake, have seen the line (presumably of no return) that they crossed and knowing the human cost it would exact.

Now, I'm going to go out of order here and talk about the final verse, because I think the chorus or refrain (I can't play any instrument and I have no formal music education so I don't know what the proper names of song parts) that precedes it is the lynch pin of the song.

So, the last verse kind of wraps it all up. "You lost your train, but you're high on the fumes that are left in the room. When you dream of a team of higher beams that temporarily blind. That change your mind. That change your mind. That change your mind." The train here I don't think is literally the train of the first and second verses, but more akin to losing one's way or one's "train of thought" The fumes left in the room that get the passenger high are, to me, the smell of victory and chaos that linger long after the shouting is over and that are punctuated by contemplating the expectations that they chose not to attain.

The chorus or refrain that connects the third and final verses, "thank you, thank you for nothing. I didn't want in. Thank you, thank you for nothing. I didn't want in. Fuck you, fuck you for nothing. I didn't want in." It's literally a fond fuck you to the antagonist. It's delivery is perfect and on the first listen almost jarring in how easily it rolls off the tongue.

For some reason, the "parents" I see are white, upper crust types from Chicago or Connecticut. The type of people who wear plaid scarves and elegant gloves when it's cold, who own dogs they never pet and cars they don't know how to drive. Their disappointment in their rebellious child is more about the embarrassing gossip they'll endure than any genuine concern about the unmet expectations. I'm totally reading WAY too much into this, I'm sure.

Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written any sort of interpretation of a song. A.C. Newman would probably spit out his coffee if he read it but it's what the lyrics say to me. I love this song and the whole album. For that matter I've never heard one of his songs I didn't love. He's a fucking genius if you ask me.