Beck has developed an internal vocabulary to his work, and he invites us to experience the whole song, not just the lyrics. I think this song is a major statement of Beck's beliefs, and an example of a completely successful song, one of his best, and among his most political. It's over 15 years old now, and I daresay our situation has actually declined, and if he ever sequeled the song, I believe pt.II would sound much darker.
The snipers are passed out in the bushes in a society where even the government agents of control don't even give a shit about professionalism. The riots must be a common event at this point, so Beck notes his advantage at having his suits cleaned, expressing the same blase indifference to current affairs or social conflict.
Within this world, we are presented with mechanical metaphors and the sounds of urban inertia and labor in the music itself. The broken train is the Orwellian dystopia that Beck suggests is already here, close by, or coming soon. It is world of contrast between rich and poor, billionaires and breadlines, crystal tiaras and grey rivieras, etc.
The song opens with an intoxicating rhythm recalling for me Working In The Coal Mine, by Alan Toussaint, a song about the sufferings of a working class man too exhausted to able to enjoy his free time. Devo covered the song in '81, their electronic style finding the same pick on stone drum beat a versatile carrier for their social commentary as well.
A synthesizer overlay has a twilight zone feel, suggesting to us we are entering a different world much in the way the wavy effect recalls a flashback memory in visual terms. As the whole thing just maintains it's perfect synch inexorably marching forward, what sounds to me like a baritone sax, comes in with a G, doubling down on the synths ascending triad, then a defeatist whaaaaaaah: a crass response to the ethereal synth. To me it sounds like a truck hitting its horn and downshifting while stuck in traffic. The background din surrounds us with the clinking of construction. Hold On! I don't know if I want to ride your train Beck!
Beck gives us a wink, In this song the voice of the speaker is that of an intelligence "advisor" to a client state in the midst of adopting US methods of societal control and repression. It is a post Orwellian fascist client state which trades exploitation of their subjects and country's resources, for political backing and financial military aid. Dollar Diplomacy. It suggests the apathy of a society that is overwhelmingly "have not", controlled by a minority of "haves." "Cause there's only rehashed faces on the bread line tonight Soon you'll be a figment of some infamous life" suggests that there is no real rehabilitation in this society, only the purgatory of death row by apparent free will for those who fail to conform.
Billionaires smile like weapons passing out platinum pensions They're out of control No one know how low they'll go is self explanatory. Beck is looking back at his own "controllers". military and intelligence bigwigs peddling aid packages to countries and corporations with which they will buy weapons and self-enrich themselves, while using the weapons to enforce the police state that maintains their power over an enslaved populace.
Beck invites us to take a ride on this train. "What are you suggesting, Mr. Beck? Right here in the US? OMG. Are we that apathetic to ever allow that? That harmonica reminds me of a hobo music from the economically ravaged south and west of the dust bowl and great depression.
The next stanza is somewhat difficult, but IMHO: These bra burning deportees At the service station They know that beige Is the color of resignation.
This is a society that exiles any social activists that confront issues of gender equality. In a functioning democracy, the parts contribute like a mosaic of separateness and dissent. In this society women's issues have to do with breeding. Beige is what you get when you blend Black, White, Red and Yellow, and turn it into an institutional monochrome. I think this reading really calls attention to what Beck may be referring to as a service station. Allow feminism, but insofar it doesn't interfere with their purpose of breeding: producing the beige uniconsumers of the future in their womb factories. Wanna burn your bra (i.e.: advocate feminism or homosexuality and express you freedom of speech or non-violent protest)? GTFO. Deportee.
The last stanza has to do with the ease with which people of subsistence means can be exploited to gratify their oppressors' appetites. He is so blase that he comes right out and blows his own cover, knowing they don't care, nor is there any possibility of any counterintelligence threat. He is only trolling, hoping some girl might find it exciting enough to throw him a lay. After all, what is he there for anyway? Isn't he a cowboy? Sound's better than shepherd.
Zip code is another one of those metaphors linking economic and social codes with geographic zones like ghettos, and calling attention to the many and various ironies and contradictions that the extreme inequity of the society imposes through stereotyping and environmental racism.
Beck has developed an internal vocabulary to his work, and he invites us to experience the whole song, not just the lyrics. I think this song is a major statement of Beck's beliefs, and an example of a completely successful song, one of his best, and among his most political. It's over 15 years old now, and I daresay our situation has actually declined, and if he ever sequeled the song, I believe pt.II would sound much darker. The snipers are passed out in the bushes in a society where even the government agents of control don't even give a shit about professionalism. The riots must be a common event at this point, so Beck notes his advantage at having his suits cleaned, expressing the same blase indifference to current affairs or social conflict.
Within this world, we are presented with mechanical metaphors and the sounds of urban inertia and labor in the music itself. The broken train is the Orwellian dystopia that Beck suggests is already here, close by, or coming soon. It is world of contrast between rich and poor, billionaires and breadlines, crystal tiaras and grey rivieras, etc. The song opens with an intoxicating rhythm recalling for me Working In The Coal Mine, by Alan Toussaint, a song about the sufferings of a working class man too exhausted to able to enjoy his free time. Devo covered the song in '81, their electronic style finding the same pick on stone drum beat a versatile carrier for their social commentary as well. A synthesizer overlay has a twilight zone feel, suggesting to us we are entering a different world much in the way the wavy effect recalls a flashback memory in visual terms. As the whole thing just maintains it's perfect synch inexorably marching forward, what sounds to me like a baritone sax, comes in with a G, doubling down on the synths ascending triad, then a defeatist whaaaaaaah: a crass response to the ethereal synth. To me it sounds like a truck hitting its horn and downshifting while stuck in traffic. The background din surrounds us with the clinking of construction. Hold On! I don't know if I want to ride your train Beck!
Beck gives us a wink, In this song the voice of the speaker is that of an intelligence "advisor" to a client state in the midst of adopting US methods of societal control and repression. It is a post Orwellian fascist client state which trades exploitation of their subjects and country's resources, for political backing and financial military aid. Dollar Diplomacy. It suggests the apathy of a society that is overwhelmingly "have not", controlled by a minority of "haves." "Cause there's only rehashed faces on the bread line tonight Soon you'll be a figment of some infamous life" suggests that there is no real rehabilitation in this society, only the purgatory of death row by apparent free will for those who fail to conform.
Billionaires smile like weapons passing out platinum pensions They're out of control No one know how low they'll go is self explanatory. Beck is looking back at his own "controllers". military and intelligence bigwigs peddling aid packages to countries and corporations with which they will buy weapons and self-enrich themselves, while using the weapons to enforce the police state that maintains their power over an enslaved populace.
Beck invites us to take a ride on this train. "What are you suggesting, Mr. Beck? Right here in the US? OMG. Are we that apathetic to ever allow that? That harmonica reminds me of a hobo music from the economically ravaged south and west of the dust bowl and great depression.
The next stanza is somewhat difficult, but IMHO: These bra burning deportees At the service station They know that beige Is the color of resignation. This is a society that exiles any social activists that confront issues of gender equality. In a functioning democracy, the parts contribute like a mosaic of separateness and dissent. In this society women's issues have to do with breeding. Beige is what you get when you blend Black, White, Red and Yellow, and turn it into an institutional monochrome. I think this reading really calls attention to what Beck may be referring to as a service station. Allow feminism, but insofar it doesn't interfere with their purpose of breeding: producing the beige uniconsumers of the future in their womb factories. Wanna burn your bra (i.e.: advocate feminism or homosexuality and express you freedom of speech or non-violent protest)? GTFO. Deportee.
The last stanza has to do with the ease with which people of subsistence means can be exploited to gratify their oppressors' appetites. He is so blase that he comes right out and blows his own cover, knowing they don't care, nor is there any possibility of any counterintelligence threat. He is only trolling, hoping some girl might find it exciting enough to throw him a lay. After all, what is he there for anyway? Isn't he a cowboy? Sound's better than shepherd.
Zip code is another one of those metaphors linking economic and social codes with geographic zones like ghettos, and calling attention to the many and various ironies and contradictions that the extreme inequity of the society imposes through stereotyping and environmental racism.