"if a lion could talk, we would not understand him." but that begs the question: if a lion could talk, we probably could understand him. he just would not be a lion any more; or rather, his mind would no longer be a lion's mind.
- ludwig wittgenstein
for a band like the residents that revels in the weird and avant-garde, subjects relating war, cruelty, decadence, and the inexplicable dread of breaking away from reality seem like an odd fit for the satirical approach the group takes with a lot of their work [although they have made a flurry of albums dealing with serious subject matter]. animal lover however is a deeply emotional, confusing and frightening album that sees the residents [in my opinion] at their most conceptual and lucid in both lyricism and songwriting. released in the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the residents offer a sort of self reflection through many narratives that explore the destructive impulses of society, consequences of deranged environments, and the utter confusion about our own actions when looked at from afar, the latter accomplished by an accompanying perspective from the animals that witness the stories in the album. the physical release of the album has with it a booklet containing the side of the stories narrated by the animals as observers, an essential guide while listening to the album.
it wouldn't be a residents album if it had completely intelligible lyrics that perfectly fit into an overarching theme [assuming they intended a solid concept to begin with]. but the ambiguity of their messages and the occasional ludicrousy is what makes this album a gold mine for individual interpretations of intent, but just enough to the point that they don't stray away from the central set of motifs spearheading the album. ḑ̴̞̅e̸̼͑t̷͔̫̓͑à̷̗̂c̵͕̳̈́̋h̸̬͌̓͜m̸̟͇̔ẻ̷̢n̴̦̈́t̷̪͍́,̸̜͖͆ ̸̨̟̈́̊d̷̨̯͠é̸͍̫s̴̺͒͝e̵̬̲͋̊ñ̸͖s̵̨̛i̴̹̚ͅt̷̘͉̕i̷̞͝z̷̡̦̿͝a̶̺̔̎t̸͈̓̄i̴̢͍̇ö̶̜́̓ņ̶̄͝ͅ,̷̛̰ ̶̹͙͋d̵̞͗e̴͚̣̚p̴̙̝̓r̸̤̯͌̅ĕ̷̦͍́s̵͔̋̂ͅs̵̡̛͊ȉ̴̗͔̆o̵͚̬̚n̶͙̲̏,̸͈̑ ̴̖̈̂d̵̨̎͝é̵̱l̴͚͙͒u̶̡͓͒ś̵̝̠i̴̮͉͊ö̷͈͇́̆n̶͍̈́̌š̷̯͝,̴̘̬̈̒ ̷̢͖̿̿c̴̘̦͗̋o̸͚̝͒n̸̘̭͗̓s̷̳͆̈́u̷͎̺̍͑m̶̼̔̓e̴̛͂͜r̸͖̐̀í̴̼̈s̴̩̞͑m̷̨͓̀,̷̺͇̉ ̶̧̻͌͛ĉ̴̡r̷͕̽̔u̴̻̇̽e̵̮̙̋ļ̸̥͌t̵̫̱̅̈ỹ̵̡̘, nxt7ptx38584536780c15p631[':}{l:l:l"u)nne^!#@n678e36boo3
every song here is half the story in a way, even unintelligible without the animal's perspective to aid our understanding of a situation, and also give us an incomplete narrative as a result of the animals lack of understanding the human condition. in many ways one is even compelled to adopt the animals perspective of these events, either through the comfort their ignorance offers, or the humor in their interpretations of actions.
take for example the opening track titled "on the way (to oklahoma)" which talks about a man who having turned into a cat describes his love for a tiger named dolly. he purr's and walks, talks and thinks like any other beast, and is still kind enough to bring dolly a gift [a dog that he killed during his travel]. "his split became complete, reality had faded, his fantasy concrete" state the final lines of the song, suggesting a complete descent into psychotic delusions, transforming into something not-human. why or how did this happen? the album isn't really concerned with offering the listener answers in most of the songs, but rather leaves them open ended for our own minds to fill in the gaps the way we see fit, and focuses more on a radical shift in perspective through a non-human lens. what is the tigers perspective on all that transpires? dolly the tiger recounts that the man was obsessed with her, visiting her cage in the zoo every other day of the week, and that one day at night she sees him approach her with a lump of dog meat he had brought, presumably as a gift for her right before he was caught and taken away by the authorities.
the fourth song on the album titled "two lips" takes place during the tulip mania of the netherlands , a period during which tulip bulbs were priced as high as actual houses. "we will buy or we will die" says the narrator, possessed by the strongest of consumerist spirits and craze of accumulation, and tragically culminating in the sale of his wife and children on the market. the witnessing animals in the song are a group of ants who have settled near the narrator's property, they knew only of the man and his wife and child who he was proud of, and would notice the constant presence of parties and gatherings at the house. but as time passed by for the ants they noticed the house was no longer lively, with only the man residing in the empty husk spending his time obsessing over his prized tulips. the puzzled ants thought they tulips were just okay looking and never understood why the man was obsessed, they eventually had to leave the scene to go back and feed their colony.
the destructive effects of consumer culture and excessive materialistic attachment take center stage, reaching a point where the narrator trades his humanity for a commodity. listen to the adverts enough and over time the monocle wearing snail in our ear tells us we want this, with the ghost of objective value turning the unquantifiable into a question of trade, everything becomes a number, and all relations a result of simple arithmetic.
perhaps the most uncomfortable track on the album is the second song titled "olive and gray" which describes the narrator seeing a stranger indecently exposing themselves and subsequently being stoned to death. the narrator recalls this experience of being violated, one that so warped his own perception of his genitalia leading him to describe it as olive and grey. in retaliation the narrator calls for and brings about the lynching of the stranger. the animal witness to the violence that ensued [a stray dog] was a victim himself of ridicule and physical violence from people. however, on that day, the dog was pulled in by the rushing crowd which surrounded the confrontation. the dog clueless about what was happening barks out of sympathy and worry when the cornered man is stoned, perhaps a reaction to the same throwing of stones the dog experienced from the very people on the street, unaware of the gravity of the crime the man had committed. [trauma bonding gone horribly astray]
"incipit kant: we are not amphibians, but belong upon solid earth. let us renounce all strange voyages. the age of desire is past. the new humanity i anticipate has no use for enigmatic horizons; it knows the ocean is madness and disease. let me still your ancient tremors, and replace them with dreams of an iron shore." reason in its legitimate function is a defense against the sea, which is also an inhibition of the terrestrial; retarding our tendency to waste painstakingly accumulated resources in futile expeditions, a 'barrier opposed to the expenditure of forces' [ii 332] as bataille describes it. it is a fortified boundary, sealing out everything uncertain, irresolvable, dissolvent, a sea-wall against the unknown, against death.
- nick land
the album partially moves away from the violent imagery populating the first few songs, and delves into themes of emotional loss, the unaccounted costs of war, the allure of cults, and the cold indifference of death in battle to high ideals of heroic sacrifice.
track six titled "inner space" is about an estranged father-daughter relationship, with allusions to the aged veteran father's prior drug use and neglect of family. without time or the faculties to redeem himself he is left to die with the burden of his actions and inactions, given company only by his daughter who sits besides him silently for hours on end. the mouse who stayed inside the fathers room was treated with bacon by the daughter, he was puzzled as to why she'd visit him everyday? and was kind to him unlike other humans. she would sit by the bed of the old man and just hold his hand, no words exchanged, they wouldn't even look at each other, just keeping each other company in quietude.
an often overlooked highlight of the album is the wonderful use of gamelan instrumentals in a lot of the tracks, a particularly great choice considering the strange, unsettling, and almost mystical of the sounds of gamelan music [consiting of various bells, gongs and percussion played in extremely unconventional tones, pitches and polyrhythms]. a perfect sonic catalyst for the atmosphere the lyrics bring about.
the story of a broken soldier left to bear open wounds alone then transitions to the scene of a fallen army in the seventh track titled "dead men". describing the aftermath of a brutal battle, with corpses facing both towards the sky and facing down to the rocks. the song speaks of glory in battle [either as a voluntary impulse for a brilliant death or a manufactured purpose in the wake of being conscripted against their will] quashed by the view of all their corpses looking the same, greeted by a familiar dark void as they let go their last breath. their meaningless deaths are juxtaposed with a hero, who is said to attain heaven, and whose death is never in vain. they need not explain themselves, their power dictates whats truth and what's not, the promise of power with victory. the lone owl that watches the ruin from above has read neither evola nor mishima, and offers a far more bleak and alternate opinion on the calamity, one that obviously is of no use to the wisdom of philosophers of war but makes for an interesting dichotomy on how singular the concepts of the hero and the heroic death is to our species.
the choice of an owl being the animal watching from above is particularly interesting in the backdrop of the many associations owls have to death, war and ruin across cultures. the hotting that brings with it an air of desolation, the piercing eyes and nocturnal behavior, its silent flight, a creature of the night associated with omens of war and calamity. our owl looks over dead bodies after the chaos beneath dies down, excited by the mice the corpses invite. by the time they try to swoop in the mice hide under the dead bodies, these dead men to the owl are not heroes but obstacles in the way of the owls dinner.
the twelfth track titled "elmer's song" sees a choir of voices compelling us to shed our physical body while assuring us that god waits on the other side, and we need not dwell in doubt or fear. a lone voice then narrates his story, relating to their shared state of mind in a life surrounded by mediocrity and cruelty. the choir then proclaims that true love lies in rest, sleep, inaction, a state which they allude to is only fully attained in death. the lone voice then goes onto state that he was spoken to by a voice that said that he could finally be of relevance through surrender. the voice the narrator interprets as god says white people should remain in bed [a statement i would interpret holding racist connotations, one implying that only those fair in skin attain finality and liberation]. sleep is purified, sweet and sanctified, and we will give it to you. the animal concerned with this story is a chimpanzee owned by a follower of the above cult. the chimpanzee was separated from its mother at a very young age and though the white man showered it with every comfort nothing could ever compensate for his separation.
"[in the theatre of dissolution, thought loses traction]......disintegration of all ontological privileges. it is for this reason that even when we speak of 'acts of terrorism', which are instances of tellurian 'terror events, we cannot do so without reference to breakage, dismemberment, dissolution, incomprehension, stunning affectivity, and ultimately, to death. but, lurking behind our tellurian- specific explanations, what we are actually referring to is this breakdown and dissolution of patently tellurian ontological privileges, caused by seemingly abrupt interventions and of their scattering into the darkest recesses of a chasmic void of non-belonging-ness."
- manabrata guha
back at home, the chimpanzee saw the loneliness that the both of them shared, with everything one could want there was an air of isolation and sadness around the man. maybe he too had lost something like the chimpanzee? cult nightmares, preying on weakness, proselytizing through means of shared experiences and miracles, to the suggestion of exclusivity to truth by virtue of being part of a certain group. this song is eery to the core, calmed only by the sparse and beautiful guitar that oscillates throughout the track's runtime.
[sidenote: this album contains some of the most clear production in the residents discography, not to mention the scale of arrangements in songs like "my window", juxtaposed with barebone instrumentals in songs like "monkey man" and "elmer's song". beautiful guitars, warped and disgusting vocals, angelic choirs, the album is as fractured as the characters within it, and it somehow works brilliantly]
the album now takes a weird and almost surreal turn with the next few tracks describing almost dream like and unreal situations that resemble the first song on the album, starting with the thirteenth track titled "monkey man". a woman is deeply infatuated with a mythical monkey man, one who rides on a horse. deified by the lady, she says if she could she'd have a special china stand besides her china ponies.
she awaits him every morning, and recounts how he would smile from outside her window, and dances to entertain her whenever he could. she would await his return again tomorrow, she loves the monkey man.
the penultimate track "whispering boys" deals with the narrators schizophrenic experiences. the many voices proclaim themselves as sacred, and meet in the dead of night. the song follows a disturbing narration of the voices affirming their own reality through self mutilation and other unhinged acts that cement their presence in the narrator's waking state. the terror of inescapable presence(s) that walk besides in sleep and through the day, making themselves ever more apparent is one that weighs heavy on the listener.
the final track "burn my bones" documents the ghosts of war that have resided themselves deeply in the narrators unconscious, turning all they know into mud, where all experiences are decontextualized and far removed . the ghosts gnaw the insides of the narrator, not much is left at this point, this ghost is trying to free itself from the weight of the narrator pain, both antagonist and victim. the title of the track appears to be a plea for cremation, a practice some culture practice believing it to prevent ghosts from staying, with nothing to return to except ashes, they may not haunt others in the plane of the living.
the narrator tries asserting control, stating that he will eat them instead of them eating him, but towards the end cries for someone to burn him and spread his ashes, he has lost his inner battle.
the stone headed humanoids in the album art are probably symbolic of the inaccessibility of how our minds really work, and how incomprehensible the human condition can really be. we are all in some ways a black box of ideas trapped in meat suits, with the animals displayed in their original form, a possible allusion to their predictable and simple nature in contrast with ours. unsettling vocals, gamelan instrumentals, haunting atmospheres, and ambient meditations on the darkest dregs of society, the album stuns and disgusts in a way only a residents album could. a work of art that peers beyond the iron shores of reason, out of grasp to mind bound by its bars, perhaps the ingenuous alone can drag us back to safety [and delusion]. one of my favorite albums of all time precisely because tragedy has barely been conveyed this disturbingly and effectively in the medium of music, a genuine accomplishment and a highlight in the residents discography.
What about “What Have My Chickens Done Now”?
ReplyDeleteleft out my section on that track to keep the write-up relatively concise, focused instead on songs that i thought best captured the album’s overall mood. the ugliness of that track is already reflected to some extent in the two preceding it so didn't think it wasn’t necessary to go into detail on it separately. nevertheless, a brilliant song and a top 5 for me on the album.
ReplyDelete