Cluck, cluck, cluck
Jan. 16th, 2009 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12As you all know, I blog at the drop of a hat (or, you know, when it's a day ending in 'y'. Yay for random Buffy references!) so you'll be unsurprised to discover that I'm writing about two pregnancy-related songs.
The first is Me In Honey by REM.
As always, I went for the lyrics. You can find them behind the cut.
I sat there looking ugly
Looking ugly and mean
I knew what you were saying
You were saying to me
Baby's got some new rules
Baby, said she's had it with me
It seems a shame you waste your time on me
It seems a lot to waste your time for me
(chorus)
Left me to love
What it's doing to me
There's a lot of honey in this world
Baby, this honey's for me
You've got to do what you do
Do it with me
It seems a shame you waste your time for me
(repeat chorus)
Knocked silly
Knock flat
Sideways down
These things they pick you up
And they turn you around
Say your piece
Say you're sweet for me
It's all the same to share the pain with me
It's all the same. Save the shame for me
(repeat chorus)
Baby's got some new rules
Baby, says she's had it with me
There's a fly in the honey
And baby's got a baby with me
That's a part
That's a part of me
(repeat chorus 2x)
What about me?
What about me?
The other song is Brick by Ben Folds Five. It is, of course, not strictly about pregnancy, but rather is about abortion.
Stupid YouTube disabling embedding!
Lyrics behind the cut.
6 am day after Christmas
I throw some clothes on in the dark
The smell of cold
Car seat is freezing
The world is sleeping
I am numb
Up the stairs to her apartment
She is balled up on the couch
Her mom and dad went down to Charlotte
they're not home to find us out
And we drive
Now that I have found someone
I'm feeling more alone
Than I ever have before
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
they call her name at 7:30
I pace around the parking lot
then I walk down to buy her flowers
And sell some gifts that I got
Can't you see
It's not me you're dying for
Now she's feeling more alone
Then she ever has before
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
off the coast and I'm headed nowhere
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
As weeks went by
It showed that she was not fine
They told me son it's time to tell the truth
She broke down and I broke down
Cause I was tired of lying
Driving home to her apartment
For the moment we're alone
She's alone
I'm alone
Now I know it
What intrigues me is that these wonderful, complex songs are both written by men. Now I'm not a guy, and I may be wrong, but what these songs capture perfectly is male unease and ambivalence about what their partner's pregnancy means to them. The men writing these songs are also torn between detachment and attachment, and struggle to figure out which is more appropriate. To put it simply, these songs are saying, in their own ways, 'I'm half responsible for your existence, but I don't feel responsible, but then again I do feel responsible, but I don't know if I want to admit that I do feel responsible, and then again I don't know if it would be right for me to admit responsibility'. Phew! What a struggle to get your head around that concept!
I tried to think of a comparably interesting song written by a woman about pregnancy, but all I could think of were Suzanne Vega's Birthday (Love Made Real) and Sinead O'Connor's Healing Room. Both of those are beautiful songs, but they're not exactly brimming full of interesting ideas. They're both about the joys of birth and pregnancy. They're uncomplicated, unconflicted and pretty.
I may be drawing far too much on my own experiences (not of pregnancy, of course) here, but two things struck me. Firstly, pregnancy does not evoke a simple, comprehensible reaction in men, and they struggle to articulate the conflicting emotions it causes them. There is no guidance in society as to how they should react, in any case. Secondly, there are very clearly expected and defined reactions for women, and it is very difficult for them to express any kind of ambivalence about the experience.
Remember, however, that this is just me doing what I do best: deriving a whole theory about some aspect of culture from one or two of my current obsessions. The academic in me says, 'we need more examples before conclusively deciding the veracity of this statement'. The blog-happy fangirl in me says, 'intriguing'.
The first is Me In Honey by REM.
As always, I went for the lyrics. You can find them behind the cut.
I sat there looking ugly
Looking ugly and mean
I knew what you were saying
You were saying to me
Baby's got some new rules
Baby, said she's had it with me
It seems a shame you waste your time on me
It seems a lot to waste your time for me
(chorus)
Left me to love
What it's doing to me
There's a lot of honey in this world
Baby, this honey's for me
You've got to do what you do
Do it with me
It seems a shame you waste your time for me
(repeat chorus)
Knocked silly
Knock flat
Sideways down
These things they pick you up
And they turn you around
Say your piece
Say you're sweet for me
It's all the same to share the pain with me
It's all the same. Save the shame for me
(repeat chorus)
Baby's got some new rules
Baby, says she's had it with me
There's a fly in the honey
And baby's got a baby with me
That's a part
That's a part of me
(repeat chorus 2x)
What about me?
What about me?
The other song is Brick by Ben Folds Five. It is, of course, not strictly about pregnancy, but rather is about abortion.
Stupid YouTube disabling embedding!
Lyrics behind the cut.
6 am day after Christmas
I throw some clothes on in the dark
The smell of cold
Car seat is freezing
The world is sleeping
I am numb
Up the stairs to her apartment
She is balled up on the couch
Her mom and dad went down to Charlotte
they're not home to find us out
And we drive
Now that I have found someone
I'm feeling more alone
Than I ever have before
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
they call her name at 7:30
I pace around the parking lot
then I walk down to buy her flowers
And sell some gifts that I got
Can't you see
It's not me you're dying for
Now she's feeling more alone
Then she ever has before
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
off the coast and I'm headed nowhere
She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
As weeks went by
It showed that she was not fine
They told me son it's time to tell the truth
She broke down and I broke down
Cause I was tired of lying
Driving home to her apartment
For the moment we're alone
She's alone
I'm alone
Now I know it
What intrigues me is that these wonderful, complex songs are both written by men. Now I'm not a guy, and I may be wrong, but what these songs capture perfectly is male unease and ambivalence about what their partner's pregnancy means to them. The men writing these songs are also torn between detachment and attachment, and struggle to figure out which is more appropriate. To put it simply, these songs are saying, in their own ways, 'I'm half responsible for your existence, but I don't feel responsible, but then again I do feel responsible, but I don't know if I want to admit that I do feel responsible, and then again I don't know if it would be right for me to admit responsibility'. Phew! What a struggle to get your head around that concept!
I tried to think of a comparably interesting song written by a woman about pregnancy, but all I could think of were Suzanne Vega's Birthday (Love Made Real) and Sinead O'Connor's Healing Room. Both of those are beautiful songs, but they're not exactly brimming full of interesting ideas. They're both about the joys of birth and pregnancy. They're uncomplicated, unconflicted and pretty.
I may be drawing far too much on my own experiences (not of pregnancy, of course) here, but two things struck me. Firstly, pregnancy does not evoke a simple, comprehensible reaction in men, and they struggle to articulate the conflicting emotions it causes them. There is no guidance in society as to how they should react, in any case. Secondly, there are very clearly expected and defined reactions for women, and it is very difficult for them to express any kind of ambivalence about the experience.
Remember, however, that this is just me doing what I do best: deriving a whole theory about some aspect of culture from one or two of my current obsessions. The academic in me says, 'we need more examples before conclusively deciding the veracity of this statement'. The blog-happy fangirl in me says, 'intriguing'.
