Tag Archives: 1995

Song Analysis #49: Oasis – Don’t Look Back in Anger

Title: ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’
Where to find it: ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ (1995, Creation)
Performed by: Oasis
Words by: Noel Gallagher

Musically, for most of my teens, I was all about the Sixties. The late night DJ on the local oldies station thought it was hilarious that someone my age would call in to request songs or enter trivia contests…and win them. I became convinced I was born in the wrong decade. I loved the Beatles and the flood of other British Invasion artists who came after them, especially the Dave Clark Five, the Hollies, and the Kinks, as well as seminal American bands like the Byrds and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Well, before the really wigged out, psychedelic stuff, which I didn’t get or like at all. (I still remember hearing ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ weird tape loop for the first time and being horrified, and then getting horrified again when my brother pointed out John Lennon singing “cranberry sauce.”) If it wasn’t British Invasion or Led Zeppelin (the one holdover from my years of being around an older brother), I didn’t want to give it the time of day. I couldn’t even tell you what was on top 40 radio back then, because I wasn’t listening to it.

My cousin Chris, about a year older than me, came to visit with his family as they always did every summer from Taiwan and showed me the CDs he’d brought with him. He was eager to impress on me his musical taste, but usually I was unmoved and entirely underwhelmed with what he had on offer. That particular summer, he had three he wanted to show me. The first two met my usual eyes glazing over as we played them on my dad’s then top of the line hi-fi: Blues Traveler’s ‘four’ and the Notorious B.I.G.’s ‘Ready to Die.’

The third was far more interesting. It was the second album from Oasis, ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ I think he knew subconsciously I’d “get” Oasis because of my being such a huge Beatles fan and the obvious Beatles references Noel Gallagher added into the song. But you have to remember that back in 1996, it wasn’t like we were all on the Internet, and certainly we didn’t Google at our disposal. I did remember talking to Chris about Oasis being from Manchester. Like Liverpool had become for me with the Beatles, in my head I had this grand idea Manchester was this amazing faraway land, and one day I would see it for myself. (It didn’t disappoint. I would get my chance a decade later, making my first trip to England, Manchester being my first port of call so I could see Morrissey gig there three times over 3 nights.)

While I never became as big of an Oasis fan as I was of the Beatles, I still prefer Oasis over Blur (sorry, Damon). And despite an unfortunate run-in I had with Noel’s security 3 years ago in DC that resulted from a misunderstanding by venue staff, I still listen to ‘(What’s the Story)…’ with great fondness. When I visited the Beatles Story on Albert Dock in Liverpool some 11 years later and saw the white piano on which John Lennon wrote ‘Imagine,’ it all seemed to have come full circle for me. Regardless of how you feel about him or his big mouth, and even if he admits that he doesn’t know what the words mean in his songs because he was too stoned at the time, Noel Gallagher will always be remembered as one heck of a songwriter.

First, the words:

Verse 1
Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don’t you know you might find
A better place to play
You said that you’d never been
All the things that you’ve seen
Will slowly fade away

Pre-chorus
So I’ll start the revolution from my bed
‘Cos you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside ‘cos summertime’s in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out

Chorus
So Sally can wait
she knows it’s too late as we’re walking on by
Her soul slides away
“But don’t look back in anger,” I heard you say

Verse 2
Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows if it’s night or day
Please don’t put your life in the hands
Of a rock ‘n’ roll band
Who’ll throw it all away

Pre-chorus
Gonna start the revolution from my bed
‘Cos you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside ‘cos summertime’s in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace, take that look from off your face
‘Cos you ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out

Chorus X 2 (slightly modified lyrics)
So Sally can wait
She knows it’s too late as she’s walking on by
My soul slides away
“But don’t look back in anger,” I heard you say

So Sally can wait
She knows it’s too late as we’re walking on by
Her soul slides away
“But don’t look back in anger,” I heard you say

Modified chorus
So Sally can wait
She knows it’s too late as she’s walking on by
My soul slides away
“But don’t look back in anger, don’t look back in anger”
I heard you say, “at least not today”

Now, the analysis:

There are a lot of interesting bits in ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger,’ even if Noel says he wrote the lyrics when he was stoned and they mean nothing, and fans have come up with lyrical meanings that ring very personal to themselves. That alone is a sign of a very well-penned pop song. To me, the themes in this song that speak loudest to me are those of innocence, regret, and hope.

If we take the song and lyrics at their most basic and view it in the context of what nearly all pop songs are about, a romance between a boy and a girl gone sour, a lot of it seems pretty literal: this girl Sally is waiting for a reconciliation with her greatest love that will never come. I remember thinking as a teenager, and one who had never had a boyfriend yet by this time in her life, that this song was so sad, so tragic. Be still my heart! The pain of young love! Oh, how innocent hearts get it all wrong.

The two verses are dreamy, ambiguous. I look at the lyrics to verse 1 as if the singer is telling Sally to meditate, to go to a better place by using her mind (“don’t you know you might find / a better place to play“) and banish any bad thoughts using the meditation (“you said that you’d never been / all the things that you’ve seen / will slowly fade away“). This positive slant reminds me of a favourite song of mine in my blogging career, ‘Dreaming of Another World’ by Mystery Jets. The singer also says later in verse 2, “take me to the place where you go / where nobody knows if it’s night or day,” as if he wants a means of escape or probably more likely, a utopia, a place where such things don’t matter. When night falls, some things become final, and in the light of day, they become obvious in their permanence. In both verses, it’s not clear to me if the voice of the singer is the object of Sally’s affection, but for the sake of argument, let’s say the voice isn’t.

Gallagher has admitted that the lines in the pre-chorus “gonna start the revolution from my bed / ‘cos you said the brains I had went to my head” were lifted straight from a spoken word tape of John Lennon’s, and because they don’t make a whole lot of sense to me in my overall interpretation, I’m going to leave them. That leaves the rest of the pre-chorus, which is pretty perfect to me. “Step outside ‘cos summertime’s in bloom / stand up beside the fireplace, take that look from off your face“: stop pining, stop wallowing, get out of the shadows and into the sunshine and enjoy life, and turn that frown into a smile. Why? Because summertime is in bloom, life is wonderful, and life is out there for the taking. I’m on the fence about the line “‘cos you ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out,” because it’s sung sweetly, not angrily, and rather melodically (well done, Noel), even though the sentiment seems to be, “look, I know you’re angry with me/him, but that’s not going to solve anything.” This makes sense in the context of trying to get Sally to look on the bright side of things, to refocus on better days.

A brief aside on why I find the mention of “please don’t put your life in the hands / of a rock ‘n’ roll band / who’ll throw it all away” amusing: I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve been told as a woman to avoid getting involved with musicians at all costs. Ask me in 20 years’ time how it’s going…

The choruses are slightly different each time, with either the emphasis of “she’s walking on by” (Sally alone) or “we’re walking on by,” presumably Sally’s ex stepping out with a new woman. However, in all cases, the chorus ends with “‘but don’t look back in anger,’ I heard you say,” with someone telling Sally or Sally herself hearing within herself that she shouldn’t live in regret. I remember watching this video on MTV and at the end, with Noel singing the last few words as he looked out of the back of the car driving away from the house, “‘But don’t look back in anger, don’t look back in anger,’” his voice slightly cracking as if getting emotional himself. Cue sobbing.

The parting words “I heard you say, ‘at least not today’” seem pretty beautiful to me too. Every day is a snapshot of the whole of our lives, isn’t it? I think the voice of the song was meant to be thoughtful and caring towards Sally. He is aware of her pain, of her regret of what once was and what can never be again. But he also knows that one day Sally can come to acceptance of what’s happened and she won’t look back in anger. He’s hopeful, though, that through his healing words, he can get her through this one day and to the next one.

Lastly, the song, in its promo form, those round red spectacles of Noel’s that are forever etched in my mind. That and a lot of tissues…

Song Analysis #29: Pulp – Disco 2000

Title: ‘Disco 2000’
Where to find it: ‘Different Class’ (1995, Island)
Performed by: Pulp
Words by: Jarvis Cocker

It seems very strange to me that we now look at Jarvis Cocker not so much as the frontman of legendary Sheffield Britpop band Pulp but as the host of BBC 6music weekend programme Sunday Service. It should probably come as no surprise based on the wittiness of his lyrics in those days back when Pulp were chart kings that he’s an excellent presenter and you can’t help getting sucked into his show. (I’m very to sorry to report this, but it looks like he’s taking a break from the 6music controls until 2015, so if you want some Northern flavour, you’ll just have to be content with Guy Garvey‘s Finest Hour in the meantime.)

Right. So why did I choose this song? It’s been in the back of my mind for a long time. There used to be this wonderful Britpop / indie night at the Black Cat in DC called Razzmatazz that my friends and I used to go to. We’d be there for hours and it was one of the few dances I actually enjoyed, because I’d know all the songs. (It also helped that I knew the one of the DJs, so I could request songs ahead of time. He had been so grateful for the bands I’d tipped him off to, such as Golden Silvers.) I always watched the huge response on the floor for Pulp’s ‘Common People’ and ‘Disco 2000’ with some level of amazement. I still have these images of these girls in big skirts and heels going absolutely mental for both songs, which conflicted with what was going on in my mind, “um, isn’t this some serious stuff he’s talking about in the song?” Of course, when you’re out with your drunk friends on a night out, that’s probably not the best time to start any philosophical talk…

Most of the songwriters that I like have one thing in common: they tend not to go for the obvious in either theme or word choice. With Jarvis Cocker, you always knew he was going to give you something left of centre. Back in the ’60s during the psychedelic era, there was all this talk about being individuals. What Pulp wanted was an extension of that, “we don’t want no trouble, we just want the right to be different. That’s all.” They were different. I’m just wondering how many people realised just how different they were, if that makes sense.

First, the words:

Verse 1
Well we were born within 1 hour of each other.
Our mothers said we could be sister and brother.
Your name is Deborah, Deborah.
It never suited ya.
They said that when we grew up,
we’d get married, and never split up.
We never dated, although often I thought of it.

Pre-chorus
Oh Deborah, do you recall?
Your house was very small,
with wood chip on the wall.
When I came around to call,
you didn’t notice me at all.

Chorus
I said, “let’s all meet up in the year 2000.
Won’t it be strange when we’re all fully grown.
Be there 2 o’clock by the fountain down the road.”
I never knew that you’d get married.
I would be living down here on my own
on that damp and lonely Thursday years ago.

Verse 2
You were the first girl at school to get breasts.
Martin said that yours were the best.
The boys all loved you but I was a mess.
I had to watch them trying to get you undressed.
We were friends but that was as far as it went.
I used to walk you home sometimes but it meant,
oh it meant nothing to you,
‘cos you were so popular.

Pre-chorus
Deborah, do you recall?
Your house was very small,
with woodchip on the wall.
When I came around to call,
you didn’t notice me at all.

Chorus
I said, “let’s all meet up in the year 2000.
Won’t it be strange when we’re all fully grown.
Be there 2 o’clock by the fountain down the road.
I never knew that you’d get married.
I would be living down here on my own
on that damp and lonely Thursday years ago.

Bridge
Oh yeah,
oh yeah.

(spoken)
And now it’s all over,
You’ve paid your money and you’ve taken your choice
And I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again
But Deborah, I just wanted you to know
I remember every single thing

Pre-chorus
Oh Deborah, do you recall?
Your house was very small,
with wood chip on the wall.
When I came around to call,
you didn’t notice me at all.

Extended chorus
I said let’s all meet up in the year 2000.
Won’t it be strange when we’re all fully grown.
Be there 2 o’clock by the fountain down the road.
I never knew that you’d get married.
I would be living down here on my own,
on that damp and lonely Thursday years ago.

Outro
Oh, what are you doing Sunday, baby.
Would you like to come and meet me maybe?
You can even bring your baby.
Ohhh ooh ooh. Ooh ooh ooh ooh.
What are you doing Sunday, baby.
Would you like to come and meet me maybe?
You can even bring your baby.
Ooh ooh oh. Ooh ooh ooh ooh. Ooh ooh ooh ooh. Oh.

Now, the analysis:

Cocker has said the lyrics are based on personal experience, with the fountain mentioned being one that exists in Sheffield. I hate the term “friend zone”, but there really is no other way to describe such a situation: we’ve all grown up with people of the opposite sex we’ve found attractive (physically, mentally, or otherwise) and for whatever reason, we never end up with them. There are scores of reasons why this happens. Sometimes we’re scared of losing the friendships that matter and we decide it’s safer to play “what if” for the rest of our lives instead of risking rejection and possibly banishment from our friends’ lives, because they mean too much to us. Sometimes it’s clear the other person doesn’t like us like that and we make the voluntary choice to stay in that person’s life, even if it hurts just being around him or her. In any event, being in the friend zone is not a pleasant thing. It is fraught with the worry of embarrassing yourself, making social gaffes in front of the other person, etc. etc. etc. Not a good place to be in. And all because your silly heart had to get involved!

‘Disco 2000′ is quite deceptive because at the end, it sounds like the protagonist is okay with reuniting with the crush of his young life, even offering up “you can even bring your baby” when they meet in the year 2000. But is he really thinking that? As a woman, I think I’d avoid meeting the wife and/or children of guys I used to like in my school days. Why risk putting yourself in a situation that might stir up feelings inside, no matter how long time has passed? That’s why I’m thinking, why oh why in god’s name would he agree to see her baby? Wouldn’t that just tear him up inside, having to see the product of this woman he loved in secret when they were kids and the guy she just happened to end up with? (I know, maybe the guy she married isn’t so bad at all. But I’m speaking to the protagonist’s emotional investment in this woman, which trumps all.)

From the start, Cocker makes it clear that there was some part of destiny that they had become friends. They were born on the same day, within the same hour. (This bit sounded strange and pushing it to me, but okay. Go on, storyteller Jarvis.) Their mothers knew each other, and people joked that because they were so close, they expected them to get married when they were older. Not so uncommon: I hear stories like this all the time, but more from my parents’ generation than my own, and if the “wood chip” wallpaper properly dates the song, they were kids back in the ’60s and ’70s. Meeting in the year 2000 would mean they’d be in their 40s or 50s by the time they met.

As the song goes on, it becomes clearer that the 21st century equivalent to this song is Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong With Me’. Sometimes it’s fantastic having a friend of the opposite sex. You can be yourself around him/her. It’s nice to have someone with you who looks out for you and cares about you, and all the while you don’t have to worry all he/she cares about is getting into your pants. You trust each other as friends. The problem comes along when you’ve determined you have feelings for that other person and have sit on the sidelines, while others of your sex go after your friend. You can’t do anything, because you’ve already have indicated you don’t have romantic feelings for your friend. Uncomfortable much?

In both songs, it sounds like it’s not so much what the person singing it could have done but that he/she was invisible to the other person, having so many more prominent, interesting people in her life to occupy her time: “I used to walk you home sometimes / but it meant, oh it meant nothing to you / ‘cos you were so popular.” I can’t really say what is causing the invisibility, as it’s happened so many times in my life with guys, it’s become ridiculous, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how it happens. Maybe it’s true what they say, nice guys/girls finish last? “I never knew that you’d get married / I would be living down here on my own / on that damp and lonely Thursday years ago”: in 20/20 hindsight, he is kicking himself for not having done anything. Time seems to past so quickly, doesn’t it? Time has escaped him, and he realises the error of his ways: that “damp and lonely Thursday years ago” seemed to be one tiny, inconsequential unit of time while in the moment, but now it’s looming large in his psyche. He made a mistake, he should have done something then, and now he can’t go back. “The boys all loved you but I was a mess”: not sure what made him “a mess” but maybe he was not in a position to do anything? Maybe he was conflicted on how he should act?

Going back to those lines when he’s imploring this woman to come meet him and bring her baby – part of her now matured life – I get very uncomfortable when Jarvis sings, “Oh what are you doing Sunday, baby”. It’s like he’s trying to infantilise her by calling her “baby”, as if that would be the magic pill that would take them back to those “years ago”. And his effort here is now coming across as cocky. He’s trying desperately to make things light but I hear them coming through loud and clear as “I’m sad and lonely”. Even the “oohs” at the end are uncomfortable to me. Why he is so happy? Or maybe he’s doing what Morrissey has done so many times so deftly: made a song that is filled with hurt and pain but disguised it behind a ‘happy’ melody that it’s virtually undetectable, just that Morrissey prefers “lalalas” over “ooh ooh oohs”. (Okay, that just looks weird in print…)

One of those girls in DC in a big skirt and heels dancing blissfully unaware as I mentioned earlier in this analysis, I will never forget what she looked like. The same woman hit me in the face with her elbow and pushed me out of the way the night The Big Pink were in town at the Black Cat, clambering onstage like some kind of lumbering animal to get their set list. I suspect she’s the kind of person I think the meaning of this song will be lost on.

Lastly, the song, in its quirky promo form. The video doesn’t match what’s going on the lyrics, so I don’t know if the band did that on purpose (knowing no-one would want to watch a video that was the lyrics played out literally) but sadly, it takes away from the meaning and cheapens it. (Yes, yes, I know, sex sells…but god almighty, there is more to life than sex, people!) In that respect, I’m really glad I heard the song long before I saw the music video. That said, it’s interesting how a lot of commenters are saying that with its square frame format, this video predicted Instagram years before its arrival. Hmm…