Life of a Wife
If Robert Pollard ever settles down and writes the true rock opera that is surely in him, "Life of a Wife" proves he has the knack for it. The song, with it's quietly strummed acoustic guitar and tinkling piano practically screams "I was influenced by Tommy!" That's no surprise, given Pollard's Who fandom.
Hearing lines like "I know it's a long way home," I assumed at first that the song was perhaps written for Pollard's new wife, Sarah Zade, acknowledging (warning?) the odd life of a musician and, by extension, that of his wife. Such a song would fit great with a rock opera about rock, which would seem right up Pollard's alley. But listening more carefully, I realize I was trying to shoehorn Pollard's song into my own idea, and that it probably isn't about that at all. One assumes Pollard wouldn't refer to his wife as "Mother of the wicked and the saved."
Rather, this feels like a song about a particular character, drawn from a book or a movie (or Pollard's fertile imagination). With its references to gardens and painting and past lives and "going down through the ages," it feels Victorian, the only anachronistic elements being a reference to phones and the line, "Noticing how East Coast traffic blows."
Musically, the song feels twee, like the quiet, more precious side of Pete Townshend's early work, or even something from the Left Banke. When the guitars kick in toward the end, the Left Banke comparisons go out the window, but Pollard cuts things short before an obvious spot for a solo break, keeping things to a tight two minutes. It's a good strategy, because when the song ends, I want nothing more than to cue it up again.
Hearing lines like "I know it's a long way home," I assumed at first that the song was perhaps written for Pollard's new wife, Sarah Zade, acknowledging (warning?) the odd life of a musician and, by extension, that of his wife. Such a song would fit great with a rock opera about rock, which would seem right up Pollard's alley. But listening more carefully, I realize I was trying to shoehorn Pollard's song into my own idea, and that it probably isn't about that at all. One assumes Pollard wouldn't refer to his wife as "Mother of the wicked and the saved."
Rather, this feels like a song about a particular character, drawn from a book or a movie (or Pollard's fertile imagination). With its references to gardens and painting and past lives and "going down through the ages," it feels Victorian, the only anachronistic elements being a reference to phones and the line, "Noticing how East Coast traffic blows."
Musically, the song feels twee, like the quiet, more precious side of Pete Townshend's early work, or even something from the Left Banke. When the guitars kick in toward the end, the Left Banke comparisons go out the window, but Pollard cuts things short before an obvious spot for a solo break, keeping things to a tight two minutes. It's a good strategy, because when the song ends, I want nothing more than to cue it up again.
Labels: Coast to Coast Carpet of Love