Like many teenage males, I felt this way most of my adolescence. It became my normal. If I had known any better (and I was too much of an dillweed to have any good musical taste at the time) - I would have loved, absolutely loved the Beach Boys' "In My Room".
I command you, listen!
It's one of Brian Wilson's best and when I did discover this song in college, I did fall in love with it. The song is about retreating to one's room, cocooning away from the world to remain safe and secure. Contrast this idea with the later Paul Simon song, "I am a Rock", in which Simon narrates a tale of a self-imposed isolation because of his heart break. Wilson isn't alone because of someone or something that happened - he's alone, (I'm alone) because of who he is (who I am).
All you have to do is listen to him speak. The guy is a genius, but it's clear he would have a hard time"fitting in" under any circumstances.
This is why the song succeeds so well. Sure, life events happen that can cause direct or further alienation but fundamentally, life is about overcoming alienation. From ourselves, others and God. At some level, to quote from Cobain, "all in all is all we are" - we are alone and have to figure things out that way. Wilson doesn't write as though the room is only a place of despair or sadness (although, where else is a teenage boy going to "do my crying and my sighing"?). His room is a place of comfort, where he can "lock out all my worries and my fears". He can be who he is without judgment.
Still there is a underlying somberness to the tune that can't be ignored.
As I have matured, I've come to terms with being different. Maybe it's me or maybe it's society, but I don't open up with people very often. I have close friends, but not many. I honestly think only two people in this world truly "get me". Maybe that's not that different from everyone else - but somehow there is always something that divides me from my family (politics and lifestyle), church (theology and politics), work (religion), life (everything). Simply put, I feel like an outsider. I'm okay with that too...and I suppose deep down, there's more outsiders than you'd think...
This year Weezer's excellent "Blue Album" turned 18. It was my first "favorite" album. When I bought the album (I had to wait about 8 weeks though Columbia House) - my first favorite song was "Buddy Holly". Then, it rotated to "No One Else", "My Name is Jonas", then it changed to "Say it Ain't So", "Holiday" and "The World Has Turned and Left Me Here", etc. etc. Every few weeks, I would change my mind. I still think this is the one album I wouldn't want to live without. It was the soundtrack to my 1995. I would argue it ranks up there with anything recorded in pop music, although most rock critics would say I am nuts.
No matter, it's a record that is "mine" in every sense of the word. Not only is it filled with catchy hooks and melodic guitar solos but the album is full of songs about...yep, you guessed it, alienation. All I had to do was look at the album cover close up for the first time - just four regular guys. I understood immediately, they were just like me - four dorky white guys.
I rarely watched MTV at the time so for the longest time I thought Brian Bell (far right) was the lead singer.
This brings us to the album's ultimate statement on alienation, "In the Garage" - it's a clear reply to Wilson's "In My Room". If you've come this far, then go a little further and listen:
Rivers Cuomo paints a more detailed picture than Wilson. He's into Dungeons and Dragons ("12-sided die") , comic books ("Kitty Pyde and Nightcrawler ") and KISS (in a time when KISS was the antithesis of grunge music). He's a geek and it's front and center of the song.
It's clear the garage serves a similar purpose as Wilson's room, "it's safe" and "no one cares/laughs about my ways". It is a place hidden from judgement. While the song opens with the sad-souled harmonica and a dirge-like guitar, it won't stay this way. It is a rock song after all, so it packs a little more punch than a somber Beach Boys tune. Lyrically, the song also takes a more Emerson-like outlook:
"I've got an electric guitar
I play my stupid songs
I write these stupid words
And I love every one"
It's unclear if Cuomo thinks of the songs as stupid himself, if he's playing humble or if he's simply stating what he thinks others think of his songs - the point is he loves them. They are his.
Musically, the song builds with each verse, climaxing with a delightful guitar solo and a few rounds of the chorus sung again. It's in this section the background vocals are highlighted (wonderfully sung by the Sass-Master, Brian Bell). The last few lines are sung with conviction and with more oomph than before. It's here the song's feeling and intent becomes clear.
The garage isn't only a place to feel safe. It's embracing your inner-awkwardness. We can rock out in celebration of not fitting in. It doesn't matter what "they" think....the truth is, it's more fun to be yourself.
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