The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
It was months and months of back and forth
You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore
Hung my head as I lost the war
and the sky turned black like a perfect storm
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
There was nothing left to do
When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room
So I punched a hole in the roof
Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you
The water filled my lungs
I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
I think I am finally clean
Said I think I am finally clean
10 months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it
10 months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it
The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you
I think I am finally clean
Finally clean
Think I'm finally clean
Think I'm finally clean
It's Monday morning. Let's talk about Taylor Swift. There's something a bit queasy/uncomfortable in her appropriation of Alcoholics Anonymous language. She's using AA lingo to describe her break-up from Harry Styles. Really? It feels a bit like someone using My Lai Massacre imagery for an account of a stubbed toe. The melodrama! But if you can get past that, there's a great song here. One other thing to get past. Some people object to the use of the word "clean" to describe a non-addicted state. There's a moralistic subtext; if "clean" works, then obviously anyone with an addiction is "dirty." TS seems not to care about this controversy. (And where is she learning about addiction? Has she become overly attached to kale shakes? My own favorite addiction books are the novels of Michelle Huneven and Anne Lamott, and "Cost," by Robinson, and the Bailey biographies of Richard Yates, John Cheever, and Charles Jackson, and the recent biography of Raymond Carver. Also, and I swear this is the truth: Long, long before "Clean," I had a daydream of filming a heroin documentary and setting it to the tune of "Walking on Broken Glass." I would use a song about love to describe a drug addiction! Just as TS would go on to use a song about addiction to describe a doomed love! My heroin documentary didn't get very far. I don't actually know very much about heroin. But think of Annie's lyrics: "The sun's still shining in the big blue sky, but it don't mean nothing to me! Whoa...let the rain come down. Let the wind blow through me. I'm living in an empty room, with all the windows smashed...." Perfect for heroin withdrawal! For a long while, I've wanted to read "The Trip to Echo Spring," which describes the alcoholism of Cheever and Tennessee Williams, among other writers. "Echo Spring" is a metaphor for inebriation; it's a state in which you can opt out of life, without actually being dead. I think--but don't quote me--that one of the questions "Echo Spring" raises is whether someone of Cheever's sensitivity almost *needed* to self-medicate--to get by. But maybe that's nonsense. Male artists tend to find many excuses for bad behavior. You can be a fully responsible person while maintaining your credibility as a daring artist. Just think of Alice Munro.)
TS thrives on ambivalence, and this song is so rich with it. Pushing and pulling. "There were months and months of back-and-forth." TS experiences her new state of lovelessness as a "drought," a state of thirst. Flowers wilt. And then the great simile: Harry Styles remains on TS "like a wine-stained dress I can't wear no more." The simile suggests both closeness and contamination; the reference to the wine continues the imagery of alcohol addiction; I've just watched the Gaga documentary, and-- though I'm fond of Mother Monster--you won't find this kind of writing in "Million Reasons."
Something striking now happens in the song. "The sky turned black like a perfect storm." (The TS who enjoys paradox especially likes the phrase "perfect storm." She leans on it maybe just a bit too much.) The brittle, self-medicating TS is now going to allow herself to feel pain. She is going to stop calling Mr. Styles and really experience loneliness. The excruciating process of full withdrawal is like a flood. "When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe." (Again! So bright! There's a paradox in refusing drugs; when you allow yourself to experience pain, you notice you're actually alive. This bit makes me think of the end of "Next to Normal": "Give me pain, if that's what's real. It's the price we pay to feel.") Spatial metaphors continue. There were butterflies in TS's room, and now they are dust. The only response is to "punch a hole in the roof" and allow pain to flood back in; it both drowns the speaker and helps to begin erasing memories of the ex. There's one last great moment of ambivalence in the song: "Ten months sober, I must admit: Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it." Such a pithy way of describing the allure of old bad habits. People have commented on the unnerving quality of TS's writing. The way, in adolescence, she brought Yoda-like wisdom to the experience of being fifteen. And how she did the same thing for twenty-two year-olds. And how--here--she seems to be channeling late-career Raymond Carver, when, really, she's just recently acquired the ability to vote.
My other favorite addiction story is "Smashed," by James Ponsoldt. He would go on to direct bigger movies. But I love "Smashed"--with its troubled central couple, with the charismatic first-grade teacher who knows she has a problem when she finds herself smoking crack. She stumbles into class the next day and vomits in front of her students. She then lies to the principal; the reason she's ill is that she is "pregnant." Fabulous storytelling! Who could stop watching at that point? Anne Lamott says the moment you choose sobriety is the moment when your bad behavior starts outpacing your ability to lower your own standards. That's all for today. Are you a "Clean" fan? Do you share my reservations? Listen-- below!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPUJMym4RF8
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
It was months and months of back and forth
You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore
Hung my head as I lost the war
and the sky turned black like a perfect storm
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
There was nothing left to do
When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room
So I punched a hole in the roof
Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you
The water filled my lungs
I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
I think I am finally clean
Said I think I am finally clean
10 months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it
10 months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it
The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you
I think I am finally clean
Finally clean
Think I'm finally clean
Think I'm finally clean
It's Monday morning. Let's talk about Taylor Swift. There's something a bit queasy/uncomfortable in her appropriation of Alcoholics Anonymous language. She's using AA lingo to describe her break-up from Harry Styles. Really? It feels a bit like someone using My Lai Massacre imagery for an account of a stubbed toe. The melodrama! But if you can get past that, there's a great song here. One other thing to get past. Some people object to the use of the word "clean" to describe a non-addicted state. There's a moralistic subtext; if "clean" works, then obviously anyone with an addiction is "dirty." TS seems not to care about this controversy. (And where is she learning about addiction? Has she become overly attached to kale shakes? My own favorite addiction books are the novels of Michelle Huneven and Anne Lamott, and "Cost," by Robinson, and the Bailey biographies of Richard Yates, John Cheever, and Charles Jackson, and the recent biography of Raymond Carver. Also, and I swear this is the truth: Long, long before "Clean," I had a daydream of filming a heroin documentary and setting it to the tune of "Walking on Broken Glass." I would use a song about love to describe a drug addiction! Just as TS would go on to use a song about addiction to describe a doomed love! My heroin documentary didn't get very far. I don't actually know very much about heroin. But think of Annie's lyrics: "The sun's still shining in the big blue sky, but it don't mean nothing to me! Whoa...let the rain come down. Let the wind blow through me. I'm living in an empty room, with all the windows smashed...." Perfect for heroin withdrawal! For a long while, I've wanted to read "The Trip to Echo Spring," which describes the alcoholism of Cheever and Tennessee Williams, among other writers. "Echo Spring" is a metaphor for inebriation; it's a state in which you can opt out of life, without actually being dead. I think--but don't quote me--that one of the questions "Echo Spring" raises is whether someone of Cheever's sensitivity almost *needed* to self-medicate--to get by. But maybe that's nonsense. Male artists tend to find many excuses for bad behavior. You can be a fully responsible person while maintaining your credibility as a daring artist. Just think of Alice Munro.)
TS thrives on ambivalence, and this song is so rich with it. Pushing and pulling. "There were months and months of back-and-forth." TS experiences her new state of lovelessness as a "drought," a state of thirst. Flowers wilt. And then the great simile: Harry Styles remains on TS "like a wine-stained dress I can't wear no more." The simile suggests both closeness and contamination; the reference to the wine continues the imagery of alcohol addiction; I've just watched the Gaga documentary, and-- though I'm fond of Mother Monster--you won't find this kind of writing in "Million Reasons."
Something striking now happens in the song. "The sky turned black like a perfect storm." (The TS who enjoys paradox especially likes the phrase "perfect storm." She leans on it maybe just a bit too much.) The brittle, self-medicating TS is now going to allow herself to feel pain. She is going to stop calling Mr. Styles and really experience loneliness. The excruciating process of full withdrawal is like a flood. "When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe." (Again! So bright! There's a paradox in refusing drugs; when you allow yourself to experience pain, you notice you're actually alive. This bit makes me think of the end of "Next to Normal": "Give me pain, if that's what's real. It's the price we pay to feel.") Spatial metaphors continue. There were butterflies in TS's room, and now they are dust. The only response is to "punch a hole in the roof" and allow pain to flood back in; it both drowns the speaker and helps to begin erasing memories of the ex. There's one last great moment of ambivalence in the song: "Ten months sober, I must admit: Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it." Such a pithy way of describing the allure of old bad habits. People have commented on the unnerving quality of TS's writing. The way, in adolescence, she brought Yoda-like wisdom to the experience of being fifteen. And how she did the same thing for twenty-two year-olds. And how--here--she seems to be channeling late-career Raymond Carver, when, really, she's just recently acquired the ability to vote.
My other favorite addiction story is "Smashed," by James Ponsoldt. He would go on to direct bigger movies. But I love "Smashed"--with its troubled central couple, with the charismatic first-grade teacher who knows she has a problem when she finds herself smoking crack. She stumbles into class the next day and vomits in front of her students. She then lies to the principal; the reason she's ill is that she is "pregnant." Fabulous storytelling! Who could stop watching at that point? Anne Lamott says the moment you choose sobriety is the moment when your bad behavior starts outpacing your ability to lower your own standards. That's all for today. Are you a "Clean" fan? Do you share my reservations? Listen-- below!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPUJMym4RF8
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