Joey (Concrete Blonde)


Joey
Baby
Don't get crazy
Detours, fences
I get defensive

I know you've heard it all before
So I don't say it anymore
I just stand by and let you
Fight your secret war

And though I used to wonder why
I used to cry 'til I was dry
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside
Oh Joey if you're hurting so am I

Joey
Honey
I've got the money

All is forgiven
Listen, listen

But if I seem to be confused
I didn't mean to be with you
And when you said I scared you
Well, I guess you scared me too

But we got lucky once before
And I don't want to close the door
And if you're somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor

Oh
Joey, I'm not angry anymore
Joey
Baby
Don't get crazy
Detours, fences
I get defensive

I know you've heard it all before
So I don't say it anymore
I just stand by and let you
Fight your secret war

And though I used to wonder why
I used to cry 'til I was dry
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside
Oh Joey if you're hurting so am I

Joey
Honey
I've got the money

All is forgiven
Listen, listen

But if I seem to be confused
I didn't mean to be with you
And when you said I scared you
Well, I guess you scared me too

But we got lucky once before
And I don't want to close the door
And if you're somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor

Oh
Joey, I'm not angry anymore

If you've been inside a dive bar in the last 35 years, you probably heard this song wailing from a lonely juke box in the corner. It's the kind of song that makes you close your eyes, chase a swig of beer with a deep drag of a cigarette, and step into its world. 

When I say Concrete Blonde, I mean Johnette Napolitano, singer/songwriter/bassist (which seems like a rare combination). She's creating from the perspective of the bassist, but also the lyricist and singer. That's talent. Her family said, as a child, she played Somewhere Over the Rainbow by ear on piano. That's a bit of a red flag, as that song has always been used for trauma-based mind control because it encourages dissociation. It wasn't out there and someone decided to use it for that purpose. It was created for that purpose. Consider also that this song was released on the album Bloodletting, and the single had cover art featuring a masonic floor with blood and a broken vase of roses. Not just symbolic. Not just art. This song was written on a cab ride and was the last song recorded for the album because of Johnette's reluctance, for obvious reasons. 


Dissociation is pretty much the name of the game. It's how we all get through life. I had this talk with someone the other day. Basically, we retain a childlike, bare-wire way of interacting with the world until trauma steps in and takes us out of the driver's seat. We go from being present and in charge to being along for the ride. Watch the guy fighting his way through traffic, weaving in and out, trying to get to his destination (probably a Popeyes) two minutes faster. Traffic control is a closed system. It is designed to get a large number of people from one point to another safely. It is not designed to, nor does it allow, an individual to make their own rules and leave everyone else behind. Try as you might, you can't get much farther ahead than anyone else. Extrapolate what you want from that and apply is to the overall world system (the matrix, the simulation, etc.). Hotel California. We're all just prisoners here. It helps to dissociate and leave this world behind for a moment. Some of us don't come back, though. 

As you're filling your stomach with booze, lungs with nicotine, and your ears with this song, what comes to mind? Does it sound like a healthy relationship? Is it another inversion of love? What you're hearing is a real story, which is why the song continues to resonate. Johnette was with Marc Moreland (Wall of Voodoo guitarist, as only musicians understand musicians), who died of alcoholism in 2002. Whatever you think about someone's addiction, I guarantee you don't know the half of it unless you've gone through it yourself.  

Put yourself in Johnette's shoes. The woman was in love with a man who was fighting a "secret war," which is a kind way of saying he was killing himself, making it a tragic love triangle (reminds me of The Handsome Family and Brett's pills). That secret war he fought I know well. As with many who endured child abuse and bad relationships, alcohol felt like love to me. Those first two drinks especially. The warmth that spread through my body. The letting go. I could finally breathe. Could close my eyes and float away. The harder I drank, the more likely I would wake with a shaved head and a stolen bike in the living room. Thankfully, I didn't drink to get drunk. Just liked the feeling of not feeling. Sometimes it took a little more. 


There's also a Bad Religion connection. Did you know Johnette sang backup on the song Struck a Nerve (from the 1993 album Recipe for Hate)? Incidentally, Eddie Vedder, who was "hanging around the studio" as a BR fanboy, sang on two tracks on that album also. Johnette also cowrote with Mr. Brett and sang on Television (a notable BR dud, in my opinion). I thought she and Brett were romantic at one point, but I can't find that anymore. May have imagined it. Mr. Brett also knows addiction (heroin). I believe he was using at the time he collaborated with her. 

If you've been loved by someone while you were killing yourself with an addiction, you may understand this song. The way Johnette sings, I get goosebumps. She doesn't just sing and play bass. She haunts you for life. This song was lived. This song was born out of creative sacrifice. Before lyrics were written by machines. Maybe it is a love song after all. 

That's my cue to thank everyone who helped me through those long, dark, and difficult years of alcoholism. More than 11 years since I quit. Some days I remember why I drank, but even more days are a reminder of why I quit. Love exists. God is good. 

***

Besides Jesus, I don't have a whole lot in common with modern Christianity. He's really all I want, as long as I live. Really struggling with the idea of even going back to church. It seems to be for people who just want to look good or feel good about themselves. I soak up a lot of sermons but always feel like a stranger in church. Their Christ is a foreign concept. Sort of a hippy, dippy guy with long hair and flowing robes. Not masculine. Very clearly a product of the female-centric modern church. There isn't anything for men in churches. I can't even recommend finding a Christian wife because they are worse than the rest. Good luck to anyone searching for a mate. I have a friend who is upset I gave up on women, but he's married. And unsatisfied by his marriage, I might add. Recently went down the rabbit hole of "the little season" theology, which says the millennial reign of Christ already occurred. I disagree for numerous reasons, not the least of which is we still have the Great Whore of Babylon with us, but keep in mind the whole point of releasing the devil after 1,000 years is it shows the bulk of mankind will choose error over utopia, truth, love, whenever given a choice. (The devil offers a choice. But Christ has to be present. Is He here now? No, thus we are not in the little season. People will believe anything to avoid the tribulation.) When Christ reigns on earth, there will be unprecedented peace. Then the devil is released after being bound 1,000 years, and somehow he convinces dumbass mankind to make war with their Creator. It's wild. I think mankind only cares about two things: making babies and making war. Not necessarily in that order. Think about how lost a race is that decides utopia, love, and peace is not enough, that God reigning on earth is just not good enough. There's gotta be something more, something better. Maybe we will let Eve off the hook after we see that. 

If you haven't asked Jesus into your heart, wouldn't you like to? You can say a simple prayer like this: "Lord Jesus, if I've never asked you into my heart before, please come into my heart now and save me from all my sins." If you mean it, He will, and you just started your own adventure with God. 

Thank you for reading. And God bless.

And my other blog, None Dare Call It Treason.  

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Naked and Famous - Young Blood

Image
Maybe you were curious what happened to the guy who had his heart destroyed. Maybe you thought he was a pussy for crashing out over the biggest disappointment of his life. Maybe you never knew the backstory. Wandering through Gatsby’s abandoned mansion, you wondered what transpired. Maybe you just stumbled in. In any case, you’re here. [Could have split into two posts. To save space, I refer to my ex-wife as K and the woman I fell in love with after divorce as C.] There’s a scene in the movie Drive where a bad guy calmly slits a man’s wrist (the right way — the long way) and tells him to sit down, be calm, because, “It’s done, it’s over, there’s no pain.” That’s how I imagined C ending things. I held out my hand for a friendly goodbye handshake, and she slit my wrist cooly, as if it was her duty. But, it wasn’t over, and there was pain. I sat down, bleeding. I’m still here, and it still hurts.   I hate when people experience a small disruption and attach to it spiritual significanc...
Read more

A letter to an abused heart

Image
I talked to the girl I love for a couple of hours yesterday. I love her dearly. It's impossible to express how much. One thing that became apparent years ago after she came back into my life (more than six years now) was how much she went through. The evidence was there. One of the first things she told me was she felt like a doormat. And then it was revealed she was neglected, abused, and cheated on. My heart went out to her because I endured much the same. I really hope she doesn't see this post in a negative light. It is a love letter of a different sort. I want her to know I will always be there for her and will do everything I can to protect her heart.  I don't know how deep the wounds go. Something tells me she put on a cheerful front for so long she doesn't even know. She is so used to distrusting she has to fight through her protective mechanisms and inclination to see my words and actions in a negative light. I pray to see her blossom and realize intimacy with ...
Read more

A farewell to sex

Image
Living the life of a divorced man was something I never foresaw. Actually, being married was something I didn't foresee, as well. At this point in my life, I think I've been wandering around like a blind man most of the time. Nothing else can explain my utter cluelessness about everything.  When you get a divorce, you lose many things. Mostly, you lose the security of what you had. You lose money and things and people you thought would always be there. Men especially seem to be clueless about how to move on. Our male friendships don't support us through things like this. And, if you're a loner like me, you don't have that option anyway.  Above everything else, I miss sex. There are all kinds of sex that people can have. I just miss sex. Any kind. I'm a one woman kind of man, and I've only been with one woman. So, going out and having sex with some stranger won't work for me. I'm not built that way. The only option I have is to simply m...
Read more