New Slang (The Shins)
You've probably heard this song, though maybe not for a while. If you're of a certain age, you likely know the song already. Since New Slang was released in 2001, I would peg its inception at 2000, making this song 25 years old, give or take. Feel old?
I don't know what it was about the song that made me want to write something. Let's take a look at the lyrics for clues.
***
Gold teeth and a curse for this town
Were all in my mouth
Only I don't know how they got out, dear
Turn me back into the pet
I was when we met
I was happier then with no mindset
And if you took to me like a
Gull takes to the wind
Well, I'd've jumped from my trees
And I'd've danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would've fared well
New slang when you notice the stripes
The dirt in your fries
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely
And if you took to me like a
Gull takes to the wind
Well, I'd've jumped from my trees
And I'd've danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would've fared well
Godspeed, all the bakers at dawn
May they all cut their thumbs
And bleed into their buns 'til they melt away
I'm looking in on the good life
I might be doomed never to find
Without a trust, a flaming field
Am I too dumb to refine?
And if you took to me like
Well, I'd've danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would've fared well
***
Okay, the lyrics aren't much help. The song is about early-20s angst and confusion, according to Wikipedia, as well as the singer's attitude toward his hometown (Albuquerque). I absolutely get that. Think of where you were in 2000/2001. I wasn't doing too great, but I had my youth. I certainly wasn't listening to music like this, which reeks of soy boy bisexuality. In 2001, Snapcase was probably on heavy rotation in my vehicle, a Jeep, the worst vehicle I ever owned. Actually, no, it had a tape deck, as I recall, so it was CIV. And always Bad Religion. I didn't have many tapes, so whatever it was got heavy rotation. When the Jeep wasn't broken down.
Speaking of Snapcase, if you've heard them, you know they don't fit the mold for what I've written about in the past. I would call them hardcore, as opposed to melodic hardcore, which is what I preferred. I didn't have a damn clue what they were singing about, but I liked the music, which was diametrically opposed to whatever The Shins were doing with this song. This is the type of music you play while your vegan girlfriend has sex with her girlfriend after yoga class and you try to cover up the lovemaking sounds with this while you're in the kitchen making yourself a half-oat-milk-decaf frappe-what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life and call your friends on your flip phone, asking them to meet you at a parking lot to skate, take off your shirts, and feel free, like a kid again. It's the least aggressive and most polite answer to a strangling and unshakeable hopelessness. I went with Snapcase and AFI, but to each his own.
Let's admit life didn't turn out how we planned. Then this song makes sense. I'm not saying it turned out bad for all of us. It's just not how we planned, right? If you're one of those who got it right the first time, congratulations. What the hell are you doing reading this blog? This might be a bad decision for you, unless you like congratulating yourself that you didn't turn out like the curmudgeonly author-in-residence. Hey, if life was like a choose-your-own-adventure book, I admit I screwed up.
Anyway, this song is more than a protest against the singer's hometown, which he described as "macho, really heavy, and aggressive." Albuquerque was a town I considered moving to over the last year, so I understand. It's not for everyone. Definitely not for me either, homie. Probably was even rougher 25-50 years ago. The songwriter described what he was feeling when he created this song. The song was so well-received, it generated instant income for the band, generating ad deals, placement in movies and TV, and a record deal with Sub Pop (because, of course Sub Pop). It's safe to say that if this song came out in the 90s, it would have been even bigger because 2000 marked the shift toward prepackaged-bubble-gum pop like Britney and boy bands.
The video has the band aping other bands' iconic album cover art, which is a statement in itself. Only a true music fan would geek out enough to do that with such an important song of their own. I'm not sure what the point was, except to say, "Hey, we belong." Which is what all of us want. The song itself is interesting because the lyrics lay back into the music. The way it's mixed, they almost recede, forcing you to raise the volume and listen harder, but you're still frustrated because the lyrics aren't immediately understood. As with all art, what your first reaction says tells you more about yourself than anything else. For me, I was intrigued, yet a little frustrated, which forced me to look for answers. As with a guy speaking gibberish on a street corner, I could have continued walking, but I stopped to listen. I wouldn't ask his advice on anything, but it was a memorable five minutes we shared.
A lot of indie music is impenetrable. Obtuse. Difficult. It's meant to be. It's not for everyone, not for you, even. Part of its virtue is it turns some away. It's exclusive, polarizing, confusing, strange. If you still like it even after you decided you didn't understand it, what does that say? Then there's the song title, New Slang. Slang is how kids set themselves apart. I have a kid who is Gen Alpha, and he knows a lot of new slang. I teach myself so I know what he's saying. New words create a dividing line between generations. As a Gen X kid, I simultaneously understand Boomer-speak, plus much of what kids are saying now. I didn't break any codes. I'm on TikTok, so run into it, whether I want to or not. Eventually, you start to understand what the kids are saying. As I mentioned in another post, language is powerful. It heals, it kills, it can force us apart, or bring us together. A peculiarity of this song is how often double contractions like "I'd've" are used. Honestly, that's not new, nor is it slang, but it riled me up considerably. Whatever works. Y'all bought houses after this shit went viral, so can't argue with that. I'd've done the same thing, given that trajectory.
There are many interpretations for the lyrics. That's the beauty of art. It gets people invested, as they lay thick their own meaning upon its many cracks, hoping to fill them from their own experiences. Perhaps that's why people still talk about this song. When I write poetry, it's a different part of my brain. It makes sense to me, but someone else looks at it, and it means something else to them. Or nothing at all. All the love letters I wrote didn't resonate with the one with whom they were intended. Instead, others passed by, read them, and felt touched somehow. How many love songs were written for women who never knew they held sway with a songwriter? But someone else felt those lines and melted. I think that's fascinating, ironic, and not at all sad. That's just the humor of life.
Thank you for reading. And God bless.
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