The Meadowlands is my go-to album when I’m on my man period. And when I’m on my man period, Charles Bissell writes better lyrics than anyone I can think of.
Fourth floor room
Each girl I’ve brought back home to bloom
All fold on close inspection
Each one leaves
A banner hanging from the eaves marking the eve of election
Ex-girl collection, why
Into why not
What else you got
It’s just how men mark time
Ann slams in
Another lightning round begins
This could get interesting
Where’s Ann been?
She pours herself a don’t-ask gin
No ice and light on the bitters
I’m done with quitters
Charles I found out
Wipe that smile off your mouth
I think it’s tell-me time”
Britt hit hard
She found my box of Beth’s best cards
Hand cut and signed with Xs
Called at work
“Happy anniversary, jerk”
And I just laughed at the timing
With you on line two still crying
“Why play sex on the cuff
Does Beth like it rough
And learn your dirty lines?
And keep her hair cropped
(the other shoe dropped)
Is this how men mark time in couples?”
(this sounds so rehearsed)
As Ann, hand on hip, accusing me to the rafters
The words turn and spit and scratch right through to the plaster
I’m called ten kinds of a bastard
Curses come faster
[some lyrics that aren’t on the lyric sheet]
Into why not
Into Charles gone to pot
In hotter water
Line up to lift up a toast
To the ones I hurt most
And how the well’s gone lime
With Charles on the plow
I’m roger over and how
Slower now men mark time
What else you got?
“Unfinished Sympathy hit me like a sledgehammer when it came out and Safe From Harm was like another larger sledgehammer swooping in to hit my mom as she rushed over to cradle my prone, broken body.”—Dan Perry
So I’ve been listening to Metallica’s Death Magnetic lately and thinking: You know, this really is a return to form. And really nodding my head when I read things like:
"There comes a time when a popular, long-lasting band has to accept that they’re no longer innovators, to simply learn to have fun by sticking to their strengths and put out good, solid albums that please the fans. The Rolling Stones know that, metal gods Iron Maiden, Motörhead, and Judas Priest know that, and in recent years, both U2 and R.E.M. have learned it as well."
And for someone who is aging with every single passing day, that is profoundly comforting.
But now I’m listening to Master of Puppets and I’m like: OMG this is infinity times better than the Rick Rubin retread. This is something that elder statesmen could never dream of accomplishing, not with all their hard-earned wisdom.
And I’m like: Well great. It’s too late to make my own Master of Puppets. What exactly the fuck am I supposed to do at this late hour?