Review: You Never Listen To me
Review: You Never Listen To Me
Note: The imagery I describe below is my own interpretation. It is not intended to reflect anything in the singer's or songwriter's life - personally, I'm guessing the song is about a relationship after childhood, or about something the songwriter saw in life.
It has been ages since I have heard this. At one time, it had a very negative connotation to it for me, because it described how I felt about my relationship with my mother. Now, those things have been resolved... or at least, I moved out, and we've since grown both apart and together in a more healthy, meaningful way.
The song starts out with a definite note of seething, cautionary anger. It sounds dangerous, the only word I can use to describe it with any accuracy. As if someone is standing there in its midst, about to explode. It brings forth images of a dark alleyway, shadows cast upon the walls from a streetlight shining in at an angle. The shadows move, and within the alley is a frightened teenager, hiding within a gang, the only place this person feels he belongs. Then the song opens up to tell the tale.
He is off alone in this alley, with the shadows moving off on one end, him in the shadows. He thinks back to his parents, who would not grant him any attention. His inner voice is hurt and angry. The guitar nods its agreement. He left home and joined this gang so that they would miss him, but of course they don't, and he's even angrier. They must be blind; they haven't noticed him gone, wasting their precious time! How could they not notice? Little splatters of a stringed instrument tangle themselves in the melody. Synths weave slowly through the tale, lending an eerie, angry tone, phantasmal in its vague, hazy appearance. An electric bass becomes his army of one, marching to the sound of the battle's heat.
All he wants is for someone to listen to him. Ghostly voices murmur this dissent in the background. The guitar echoes his pain. Synthesizers thread through his hideaway, building walls to keep out the damp, musky mold that grows on the trash in the alley. He shivers with the cold as he yells out, "I can't go on, knowing you're never a part of me." The ghosts continue to haunt him in the background. They won't leave him alone. He's one with the gang now. He cannot leave and keep what little remains of his sad, bitter life. His hopes refused to be dashed, but he does not know how to get out, to find happiness.
[Note: I LOVE the way he pronounces some of these words, "I can't go on" for instance... omg, it's almost British even!]
As he recedes behind a scrabble of trash cans, his army of one marches on down the alleyway, lending cover to his scrawny frame. He falls asleep in the noise of the battle.
~whitney
Note: The imagery I describe below is my own interpretation. It is not intended to reflect anything in the singer's or songwriter's life - personally, I'm guessing the song is about a relationship after childhood, or about something the songwriter saw in life.
It has been ages since I have heard this. At one time, it had a very negative connotation to it for me, because it described how I felt about my relationship with my mother. Now, those things have been resolved... or at least, I moved out, and we've since grown both apart and together in a more healthy, meaningful way.
The song starts out with a definite note of seething, cautionary anger. It sounds dangerous, the only word I can use to describe it with any accuracy. As if someone is standing there in its midst, about to explode. It brings forth images of a dark alleyway, shadows cast upon the walls from a streetlight shining in at an angle. The shadows move, and within the alley is a frightened teenager, hiding within a gang, the only place this person feels he belongs. Then the song opens up to tell the tale.
He is off alone in this alley, with the shadows moving off on one end, him in the shadows. He thinks back to his parents, who would not grant him any attention. His inner voice is hurt and angry. The guitar nods its agreement. He left home and joined this gang so that they would miss him, but of course they don't, and he's even angrier. They must be blind; they haven't noticed him gone, wasting their precious time! How could they not notice? Little splatters of a stringed instrument tangle themselves in the melody. Synths weave slowly through the tale, lending an eerie, angry tone, phantasmal in its vague, hazy appearance. An electric bass becomes his army of one, marching to the sound of the battle's heat.
All he wants is for someone to listen to him. Ghostly voices murmur this dissent in the background. The guitar echoes his pain. Synthesizers thread through his hideaway, building walls to keep out the damp, musky mold that grows on the trash in the alley. He shivers with the cold as he yells out, "I can't go on, knowing you're never a part of me." The ghosts continue to haunt him in the background. They won't leave him alone. He's one with the gang now. He cannot leave and keep what little remains of his sad, bitter life. His hopes refused to be dashed, but he does not know how to get out, to find happiness.
[Note: I LOVE the way he pronounces some of these words, "I can't go on" for instance... omg, it's almost British even!]
As he recedes behind a scrabble of trash cans, his army of one marches on down the alleyway, lending cover to his scrawny frame. He falls asleep in the noise of the battle.
~whitney
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home