Some Songs Considered

“You Are Invited” – The Dismemberment Plan 
(Words/music: The Dismemberment Plan, available on Emergency & I, DeSoto 1999 / Barsuk 2011) 

Part 2 of 2: “No date, no place, no time, no RSVP” 

I usually think about the contrasting sections in this song. Specifically, I think of the way the live band ambushes the programmed beat during the second chorus, only to recede back to the sequencer for the next verse. Recently, I started paying closer attention to the strange sounds that creep in during the end of the second verse. They happen right around the point the narrator goes to the party held by his “ex-thing,” and they’re mixed beneath the fast clicking that runs throughout the entire second beat. Maybe it’s from knowing that the full band waits ready to bust through the chorus, or maybe it’s from the type of tension I’d feel if I went to a party at my ex’s house, but these sounds made the rest of the verse feel nervous. This leads into the cathartic blast of guitar and drums in the verse, but also the relief in the narrative when Ex-Thing repeats the welcoming advice inscribed in the invitation. 

It’s this combination of social awkwardness followed by an immediate, almost superhuman transformation that made me think of Scott Pilgrim, the comics (and movie) about a twenty-something slacker who simultaneously fights video game-style villains and the inner conflicts that plague people in their teens and early twenties. It started with this image of a party combined with an anime-like “power up” triggered by this music, but then the message of optimism and proactivity in the song’s invitation struck me as the kind of thing Scott Pilgrim needed to hear. If nothing else, it was the kind of thing I needed to hear, whether from another human being or even just a random piece of mail, when I went through the mix of heartbreak and uncertainty and parylyzing indecision that Scott Pilgrim encountered in the comics. It’s still nice to hear and even better, as the song’s narrator learns in the final verse, to pass on to those who need it more than you do. 

More on The Dismemberment Plan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Back and Forth” – The Dismemberment Plan 
(Words/music: The Dismemberment Plan, available on Emergency & I, DeSoto 1999 / Barsuk 2011) 

PART 1 OF 2: “You’ll always be my hero / even if I never see you again.” 

I saw the Dismemberment Plan for the first time in 2002. I ended up with their final LP Change somewhat serendipitously when it came out and obsessed over it for a good stretch of time (so much that when I listened to it earlier this year in its entirety for the first time in ages, my hands instinctively drummed along to every little nuance out of muscle memory).  I never forgot that show – from the opening local band playing the Replacements’ “Left of the Dial,” to John Vanderslice’s tight supporting set and theatrical drummer – and the kind of spastic glee the Plan induced both on stage and in the crowd in the tiny Providence rock club.  It broke my heart when the band called it quits, and not being able to catch the band’s farewell tour only bummed me out further. 

So when the band came back together for a series of shows supporting the vinyl reissue of Emergency & I, I seized the second chance. I bought tickets months in advance and dug out my Dismemberment Plan records well in advance. The first step, of course, was falling back in love with these songs.  I expected the superhuman rhythm section and hairpin shifts to still catch my ear, but rather than just rely on my old favorites, I felt pulled toward songs that never grasped me the first time around.  In particular, “Back and Forth” bridged the things I knew I loved about this band with the things that I appreciated even more now. I probably fixated on the drumming when I first got the record, but a few months ago I found my attention centered on Travis Morrison’s vocals.  He runs through the lyrics of this song quickly, so rather than decode the entire song at one, I kept grasping onto specific parts.  Each time I listened, a new phrase caught my ear, and I marveled at the way Morrison could play with the sound of words and internal rhymes without sacrificing his storytelling and imagery.  Both the sound of the words and the words themselves worked together to paint this scene if joy and nervous excitement tempered by the reminder that the night would eventually end. This duality of sound and signifiers fits the song’s duality as well – one of the awareness of memory while it’s being created while still enjoying the moment. 

It was appropriate for seeing the band this past January as well.  Like the song’s narrator, I went into the night knowing that no matter how much fun I had (and I had a blast), I didn’t know if I’d ever have another chance to see the band again. Appropriately, they closed their nearly two hour set with this song, and a few days later it sunk in – it didn’t matter if this was the last time (and from the handful of gigs and festival appearances this summer, I’m holding out hope for periodic mini-tours every so often) because I had a hell of a time. Rather than fixate on the band’s absence like last time, I’m treasuring the memory (even months later) of an exceptional gig.

Tomorrow (or the next day or so): Hearing the right thing at the right times. 

More on The Dismemberment Plan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“The Other Side” – The Dismemberment Plan
(Words/music: The Dismemberment Plan, available on Change, DeSoto 2001)

I saw the Dismemberment Plan once before they broke up; they played for close to two hours before we had to leave so my friend could get up early the next day.  The live show only confirmed the sense of adventure I heard in their music.  As the band plowed through a series of fast paced, rhythmically complex songs, it felt like a sonic high wire act.  Rather than play it safe, the band pushed the more frantic songs to the edge, giving the illusion that the whole thing could come crashing down.  In reality, the band remained in control the entire night, whether building up one of their mid-tempo songs or letting loose on the fast ones. 

That night, the band felt close to perfection, and while their music relies on the flawless execution of complex arrangements, many of Travis Morrison’s lyrics focus on imperfections.  “The Other Side,” for instance, presents a series of circumstances that mire our lives – fights based on misunderstandings, weeks that take too long, and a general sense of feeling clueless and without direction.  Perhaps it’s not as exciting as their music – emotional honesty isn’t known for raising adrenaline – but it’s adventurous in its own right.  Morrison catalogs his vulnerabilities realistically, without downplaying or distorting the facts, and he does this as a way to achieve a personal breakthrough – in this case, to reach the “other side.”  Perhaps Morrison feels spurred on by the frenetic drumming behind him, or perhaps the quick pace reflects the urgency of his situation, but he’s trying to make progress through an honest self-assessment.  It’s not as glamorous as a high wire routine, but looking inward often feels like looking a long way down.

More on The Dismemberment Plan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm