Nick Hornby is my favourite writer. I know it doesn’t make me appear intellectual, or even clever, but it’s the truth and I care more about being open about these things than winning your esteem based on artificial measures of superiority. Hornby’s the only one that got me to snap out of my adolescent resistance to literature and he is still the only author that can get me to buy a hardcover copy of his book at full price (because the last thing I want is to have to wait for the paperback). It’s like with every book he writes he’s taken a bit of my brain out and infused it into a story with make-believe characters (for example I’m a bit manic for Arsenal FC (see Fever Pitch) and I have Tony Hawk’s autobiography memorised (see Slam)). I can stay comfortably within my comfort zone and read something that isn’t a school book.
So, when word came that Hornby was going to be putting out an album where he would be writing the lyrics and multi-instrumentalist Ben Folds would be doing the music I was elated. Though the album didn’t come out until a few months ago, there were plenty of demos and live performance videos tumbling around on the internet, so I didn’t even have to wait very long to hear some of the results of this collaboration.
I have to admit, I am a bit disappointed with the final product. It’s not as catchy as I would have expected (or have liked) and though each song tells a story, I only find half of them engaging. In truth, when I give a listen to the cd on my stereo (yes I still listen to cds – I buy them too), I skip about half of the songs.
Yet, despite all of this there is one standout on the album – track #2, “Picture Window”. This was one of the first songs to have a demo leaked and exist in the world for outsider consumption. Even though the sound of the song has changed dramatically from the original man and his piano live performance footage to a layered and bombastic demo through to the subtler version of the song on the final album, it is still by far the album’s strongest track. But, of course, this is just my opinion and this is an opinion that runs contrary to many other commentaries on the album which pick it out as a weak spot and a track that just doesn’t fit stylistically.
To those critics I counter with the point that it is precisely because it doesn’t blend in stylistically with the rest of the album that makes it a phenomenal track. It is hauntingly beautiful in its darkness in a way that grabs your arm and yanks you back towards the light, whether you’ve dug your heels in or not. It lets you wallow, it lets you be angry with the world but it forces you to recognize that there is an irresistible human desire to feel happiness.
The basic story of the song is about a mother of an ill son who has to spend New Year’s Eve with him in a London hospital. Like most people during the darkest moments in their lives, she is at a breaking point. She doesn’t want to hear that she needs to keep hope and knows that things could very well not work out just fine. She’s angry with the concept of hope, as if it is some sort of higher power and a human being at the same time. She doesn’t want to see the good in the world, she can’t afford to because she knows that if she does she’ll fall apart with a combination of guilt and grief. But just as she’s reaching the edge of that emotional cliff, something happens that causes her to feel, if not happy, a little bit less deperate, if only for the briefest period of time - a fireworks display.
I think we’ve all been there, whether it’s trying to deal with a sick or dying parent, a bought of unemployment, a difficult break-up or just a general failure. We all have those points in our lives where we want to punch the next person square in the face who tells us to “keep our chin up” or “don’t worry, it’ll all work out”. We all hit that rock bottom where we don’t want to, and are incapable of hope, even if the feeling lasts only a second, or a minute. It’s only by allowing ourselves to go to that place that we can begin to claw our way forwards, one hand and one foot in front of the other with each inch a monumental victory. Some people snap, some people can’t claw their way back, and those people certainly need help and support (but I stand by my claim that they don’t simply need a generic “keep calm and carry on”), but most of us do. For most of us, it does all work out just fine.
For those of us who are internalizers, which I admittedly am (the only reason I can write this post about feelings is because they are feelings I am not currently feeling), this song is able to verbalize those things that we could never say ourselves. After all, even if we did try to say them, we’d ether be greeted with a “suck it up” or admitted for medical assistance. It might just be me, but I’ve always believed that this is something good music should do – give us the ability to say those things that we are too afraid to say under normal circumstances.
I invite you to listen to the song yourself and come to your own conclusions. If you think I’ve gotten it all wrong, please do let me know. Below are links to two versions of the song, the album version and a slightly more bombastic demo.
Album Version
Demo (still not my favourite version of the demo but until Hype Machine relaunches it will have to do)
http://media.smh.com.au/entertainment/red-carpet/ben-folds–picture-window-702928.html
