I urge you to actually click and listen: Skinny Love
First and foremost, "grading" people on opinion may be the most futile and ignorant activity one could ever undertake. Over and above taking joy in subjectively (and most likely bias-ly) categorizing peers into stereotypical groups that will shape the future of thousands of naive middle school children, middle school English teachers spend their life analyzing and presenting great works in history that are far above their own intelligence level to a crowd of degenerates that literally wished you would drop dead. Satisfying career choice...I digress.
So why then is every single kid subject to years of tortuous and painstakingly awful interpretation of literature? I'll tell you why. Because every once in a while a person more brilliant than us all is able to capture an indescribable feeling so genuinely...so flawlessly.. and with such awesome precision that it will blow your fucking mind.
I know I'm different than most (understatement alert)...but I enjoyed dissecting poetry (shout out to Ms. Khorll, Mrs. Shulman). Poetry is like a little word game. A clue-laden, double-entendre-filled, surprise-packed, metaphor-sprinkled word game. You put the time in, you are rewarded with the full picture. And believe me, some of the poems you were forced to read as an adolescent are some of the most brilliant, chilling, and sometimes disturbing word games you could ever imagine. Edgar Alan Poe was one crazy motherfucker. My Last Duchess by Robert Browning is a brutally honest piece of work that (if anyone took the time to understand it) would allow the probing into the mind of the most suicidal, woefully love-stricken, lost soul in any generation. I can't express how impressive it is to create a piece of work that can transcend generations and generations of time when people themselves change so drastically in matters of years (think michael jackson or jared from subway).
Admittedly, I don't drive to Borders, buy poetry books and analyze them while wearing clogs and sipping on a latte. In fact I probably haven't read a poem since we were forced to do so in high school. Yet I can appreciate what our English teachers (poor souls) were getting at: read between the lines, take the piece as a whole, understand. All that...and most importantly: spell correctly. A little off track yet entirely important in and of itself. You look like a fool when you spell words wrong regardless of your intelligence level. Whoever invented spell check deserves something worthwhile.
So where the hell am I going with all this (a recurring question people that frequent this blog always seem to be asking themselves)? Every once in a while you come across a song that owns you. The type of song you say "thats so fucking true" or "Yes, that's what I was trying to say but I have absolutely no musical talent or any inkling of inclination to do anything other than watch tv". A song that captures an emotion or event in your life that you struggle to explain so just keep to yourself.
So this Bon Iver song is one of "those" songs for me. The song has no significance in my life currently but it beautifully depicts the ending of a relationship that has been slowly withering away for a while. If you've ever had a drawn out ending to a relationship I really urge you to listen to this song over and again. Or if you're to lazy to put in the time you can use my following lyric analysis to guide you.
"Come on skinny love just last the year
Pour a little salt we were never here
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer"
The "skinny love" is the withering relationship. You are at the end of a lengthy relationship with someone you do care about. Pour a little salt refers to trying to preserve the relationship as if they can just save everything and pretend like nothing ever happened. One definition of veneer is a decorative cover that disguises the true nature or feelings of something or someone. When he says "staring at the sink of blood and crush veneer" I can visualize one of the members of the dying relationship standing in front of a bathroom mirror. So frustrated and so exhausted from the painstaking process they are enduring and tired of putting up a false front that always disguises what they really want to say or do. So discouraged and upset that they smash the mirror in front of them and consequently destroy the mask (veneer) that camouflages their true emotions. Bloody sink-broken glass. Crushed veneer-symbolized in the broken glass (which just so happened to be the outer appearance of said tortured lover).
"I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right in this moment this order's tall"
I tell my love to wreck it all is a plea for the other person to end the relationship. It's like they both know that this is tearing them apart at the seams but they are hanging on spitefully...cut out all the ropes and let me fall. Just do or say something that will make things easier. Oh you cheated on me? That would cut the ropes and you could let go easier. Or how about "I don't love you". Thats what should be said but each avoids it because they don't want to take the blame. What if things actually can get better? Doubt is abundant..right in this moment the order is tall. The end of the relationship is looming. It is palpable. Yet neither want to "give up" or "give in". There must be a reason that things lasted for as long as they have right?
"And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind"
And finally the confrontation. All of the artillery is brought to this battle. Unfixable events occur. As the song continues, this chorus gets more and more emotional. It's kind of a longing or a pleaing...I told you what was wrong and what to do (yet notice the qualities mentioned are very vague and unspecific). Be balanced? Patient, fine? It is a vagueness and ridiculousness shared by two people that date a long time. Just the mannerisms and manipulation through words and actions that hint at the other to change their ways. Things that in this confrontation of confrontations seem brutally obvious to one party that the other party just blatantly ignored. But a relationship will not last if you expect unspoken hints and secret mannerisms to fix everything. And that is the closest statement to me admitting there is such thing as a fact in this world. You never said any of this...your veneer...but you knew that things were headed down an unfixable path but you lie to yourself.
"And in the morning I will be with you
but it will be a different kind
I'll be holding all the tickets
and you'll be owning all the fines"
So the end. The realization that things are over fetches dark and often times hidden qualities in people. Jealously, spite, bitterness, insecurity, resentfulness. This paragraph nails these universal feelings in under 30 words. I will be with you but it will be a different kind: its almost like a threat that you will haunt them in a way. You will compare everything new you ever encounter to what we did and what we had. I'll be holding all the tickets and you all the fines. Its like a childish way of giving up on everything you ever had and saying "I win". You won't find anyone like me. I have all the tickets but you'll be longing for what we had (paying all the fines). The longing in Bon Iver's voice here is chilling. He understands.
"Come on skinny love what happened here
suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
sullen load is full; so slow on the split"
So time goes by. Both are empty but not willing to concede this. You had something, it was real. What happened here? You cling to the impossible notion that maybe we can fix everything, just start anew. Such a helpless position to be in...like a baby suckling at it's mother. Completely helpless. Then sullen load is full. More quintessential feelings described in one line. Regret, heavy-heartedness, depression. This is the low point. And it is a "load"..a lot to carry. This would be the point of a movie where the character of interest is walking in a crowded area and all of a sudden the surroundings are in slow motion and the camera zooms in and the look of dismay presides. A "world stops spinning" type of moment. So slow on the split- this seems like it lasts forever. Will things ever change?
"And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind"
The chorus again with even more yearning than before. He sings with such genuine affliction. And as you know, I am a sucker for sincerity.
"And now all your love is wasted
And then who the hell was I?
And I'm breaking at the britches
At the end of all your lines"
Pure unadulterated passion. This was real for me. Was I important to you? Are you really okay? This is just fueled by the fact that every encounter after the final confrontation consists of each party attempting to appear as happy as possible. I am breaking at the britches-realizing what is important to oneself. At the end of all your lines...mutilating oneself over the unfixable statements presented in the final confrontation. I should have known. Guilt, anguish. You shouldn't have known though the clues were purposefully hidden.
"Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?"
Who is going to take my place? Who will take your place? It will not compare to us will it?
Only time will tell. That isn't an answer that Bon Iver can provide. Poe and Browning can't either. Especially not your English teacher...but thanks for instilling the importance of analyzing the importance of substance in a piece of work.
Now listen again: Skinny Love
BRYtunes Genius Recommendation: 9 Crimes- Damien Rice (111)
