ANNOTATED ROCK!!!! --- Annotations to three other somewhat opaque songs.
Nota bene: I, Nick, did not write every single word of this document. Many lines are from other sources, including Internet sites and books. Since this is not a scholarly or serious work, I did not keep track of attributions. So let it be known that this work, while in my words, is (mostly) not my own.
Last modified October 2, 2005 [no new content; minor editing]
Song #1:
"American Pie," Don MacLean
The entire song is a tribute to Buddy Holly and a commentary on how rock and roll changed in the years since his death. McLean seems to be lamenting the lack of "danceable" music in rock and roll and (in part) attributing that lack to the absence of Buddy Holly et al.
As to the title
Rumors abound that "American Pie" was the name of the plane that carried the trio when they crashed, but in interviews, McLean has denied this angrily, saying it diminishes his contribution. What a grouch!
This article refutes the rumor that "American Pie" was the plane's name, saying instead that the plane had only a number, N3794N. Not such a catchy song title.
A long, long time ago...
The album American Pie was released in 1971; the song "American Pie" reached number one in the US in 1972. Buddy Holly died in February of 1959, but rose in popularity as a songwriter and singer in 1957 and 1958. So if MacLean is referring in the song to Buddy Holly and his ilk ("that music" --- see below) then the "long time ago" would be twelve years or more.
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance, and maybe they'd be happy for a while.
One of early rock and roll's functions was to provide dance music for various social events for teens such as sock hops. McLean here may be recalling his youthful ambition to become a musician playing that sort of music.
But February made me shiver...
Buddy Holly died on February 3, 1959 in a plane crash in Iowa during a snowstorm following a conert in Clear Lake.
With every paper I'd deliver.
Don McLean's only job besides being a full-time singer-songwriter was being a paperboy.
Bad news on the doorstep; I couldn't take one more step. I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride...
Holly's recent bride was pregnant when the crash took place; she had a miscarriage shortly afterward.
...But something touched me deep inside the day the music died.
The same plane crash that killed Buddy Holly also took the lives of Richie Valens ("La Bamba") and The Big Bopper ("Chantilly Lace"). Since all three were very big at the time, February 3, 1959, became known as "The Day The Music Died".
So bye bye Miss American Pie...
I have heard that McLean dated a Miss America candidate at one point in his youth, but have never seen verification. The same article that refutes the "name of the plane" rumor denies this rumor as well.
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
A levee, in this context, is a pier or an embankment by a river. Many teen couples in the '50s used such places as sites to park their cars and make out. There are a lot of old blues numbers that mention "goin' down to the levee," but I don't see a connection.
Them good ol' boys were drinkin whiskey and rye Singing "This'll be the day that I die, this'll be the day that I die."
One of Holly's hits was "That'll be the Day;" the chorus contains the line "That'll be the day that I die". Incidentally, this phrase, "That'll be the day," is probably taken from the film The Searchers, a Western in which John Wayne's character repeats it several times.
Did you write the book of love...
The Book of Love" was a 1958 hit by the Monotones.
And do you have faith in God above if the Bible tells you so?
In 1955, Don Cornell did a song entitled "The Bible Tells Me So".
There's also a Sunday School song dating from the nineteenth century which goes: "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so."
Now do you believe in rock 'n roll?
The Lovin' Spoonful had a hit in 1965 with John Sebastian's "Do You Believe in Magic?" The song has the lines: "Do you believe in magic" and "It's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll."
Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Dancing slow was an important part of early rock and roll dance events, but declined in importance through the '60s and '70s with the rise of psychedelia and glam rock.
Well I know you're in love with him 'cause I saw you dancing in the gym.
In the '50s, among teens, dancing together was considered an expression of love, and carried a connotation of committment. Dance partners were not so readily exchanged as they would be later.
You both kicked off your shoes.
A reference to the corny "sock hop" dance. Street shoes tear up wooden basketball floors of the gyms where dances were held -- so dancers had to take off their shoes. Voila!
Man, I dig those rhythm 'n' blues!
Before rock and roll broke down color barriers, music, like much else in the US, was segregated. The popular music of black performers for largely black audiences was called, "black music," which was later known as rhythm and blues. (Much the same way, today, most black artists that aren't rap are called by record companies R&B, even acts such as Boys II men.) In the early '50s, radio personalities such as Allan Freed ("Mister Rock and Roll") got white teenagers listening, too. White kids mostly heard the white versions, cleaned up and de-souled: Pat Boone's take on Little Richard's bawdy "Tutti Frutti," Big Joe Turner's "Shake Rattle and Roll", cleaned up, sort of, by Bill Haley; the Chords' "Sh-Boom", covered by the silly Crew-Cuts; and so forth. By the mid-fifties, some of the real artists, such as Fats Domino and Little Richard, were able to get records on the pop charts.
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck with a pink carnation and a pickup truck...
"A White Sport Coat (And a Pink Carnation)", was a hit for Marty Robbins in 1957. The pickup truck has endured as a symbol of sexual independence and potency, especially in a Texas context. Yeee-haw. (For what it's worth, Jimmy Buffet parodied this tune in a song about "a white sport coat and a pink crustacean.")
Now for ten years we've been on our own
McLean probably wrote this song in the late '60s, about ten years after the crash. So for ten years, we've been on our own --- that is, without Holly and his music.
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
It's unclear who the "rolling stone" is supposed to be. It could be Dylan, since "Like a Rolling Stone" (1965) was his first major hit; and since he was busy writing songs extolling the virtues of simple love, family and contentment while staying at home (he didn't tour from '66 to '74) and raking in the royalties. This was quite a change from the earlier, angrier Dylan.
Or it could refer to rock and rollers in general, and the changes that had taken place in the business in the '60s, especially the huge amounts of cash some of them were beginning to make, and the relative stagnation that entered the music at the same time. Thus, perhaps, it's also a reference to the stagnation in rock and roll itself.
Or, finally, it could refer to the Rolling Stones themselves; a lot of musicians were angry at the Stones for "selling out." John Foxx of Ultravox was sufficiently miffed to write a song titled "Life At Rainbow's End (For All The Tax Exiles On Main Street)" --- the Stones at had become citizens of America to save on taxes.
But that's not how it used to be when the jester sang for the King and Queen...
The jester is almost certainly Bob Dylan, as will become clear later. There are several interpretations of king and queen: some think that Elvis Presley the king, which seems pretty obvious. The queen is said to be either Connie Francis or Little Richard.
Speaking of Bob Dylan, "queen" could mean, literally, the Queen of England -- see the next note. But this is going a bit far, methinks.
An alternate interpretation is that this refers to the Kennedys -- the king and queen of "Camelot" -- who were present at a Washington DC civil rights rally featuring Martin Luther King. Or, duh, Martin Luther King could be the King. (There's a recording of Dylan performing at this rally.)
...In a coat he borrowed from James Dean...
In the movie "Rebel Without a Cause," James Dean has a red windbreaker that holds symbolic meaning throughout the film. In one particularly intense scene, Dean lends his coat to a guy who is shot and killed; Dean's father arrives, sees the coat on the dead man, thinks it's Dean, and falls apart with grief. But the red windbreaker is important throughout the film. When he put it on, it meant that it was time to face the music, time to do what he thought had to be done, and other melodramatic but thoroughly enjoyable stuff like that. The week after the movie came out, virtually every clothing store in the U.S. was sold out of red windbreakers. Dean's impact was similar to Dylan's: both were a symbol for the youth of their time, a reminder that they had something to say and demanded to be listened to.
On the cover of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Dylan is wearing just such a red windbreaker, so "the jester" is thus "borrowing" Dean's coat.
Bob Dylan played a command performance for the Queen of England. He was not properly attired, so perhaps this is a reference to his apparel.
...And a voice that came from you and me.
Bob Dylan's roots are in American folk music, with people like Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie. Folk music is by definition the music of the masses, hence the "...came from you and me". Or, of course, it could refer to the fact that, from a purely melodic point of view, his voice was widely judged to be no better, perhaps worse, than the average Joe's off the street.
Oh, and while the King was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown
This could be a reference to Elvis's decline and Dylan's ascendance (i.e. Presley is looking down from a height as Dylan takes his place). The thorny crown might be a reference to the price of fame. Dylan has said that he wanted to be as famous as Elvis, one of his early idols.
The courtroom was adjourned, no verdict was returned.
This could be the 1969 trial of the Chicago Seven.
It seems unlikely to be a reference to the Dylan song "Drifter's Escape," off the 1968 album John Wesley Harding -- but in this song the defendant gets away after the courtroom is destroyed during his trial, so it's worth mentioning at least, especially since McLean was surely aware of the Dylan song.
And while Lennon read a book on Marx...
Literally, John Lennon reading about Karl Marx; figuratively, the introduction of radical politics into the music of the Beatles.
Of course, he could be referring to Groucho Marx, but that doesn't seem quite consistent with McLean's overall tone. On the other hand, some of the wordplay in Lennon's lyrics and books is reminiscent of Groucho. The "Marx-Lennon" wordplay has also been used by others, most notably the Firesign Theatre on the cover of their album How Can You Be In Two Places At Once When You're Not Anywhere At All? Also, a famous French witticism was "Je suis Marxiste, tendance Groucho" ("I'm a Marxist of the Groucho variety").
The quartet practiced in the park...
There are two schools of thought about this; the obvious one is Beatles playing in Shea Stadium, but note that the previous line has John Lennon doing something else at the same time. This tends to support the theory that this is a reference to the Weavers, who were blacklisted during the McCarthy era. McLean had become friends with Lee Hays of the Weavers in the early '60s while performing in coffeehouses and clubs in upstate New York and New York City. He was also well-acquainted with Pete Seeger; in fact, McLean, Seeger, and others took a trip on the Hudson river singing anti-pollution songs at one point. Seeger's LP God Bless the Grass contains many of these songs.
And we sang dirges in the dark...
A "dirge" is a funeral or mourning song, so perhaps this is meant literally...or, perhaps, this is a (very oblique!) reference to some of the new "art rock" groups, like the Velvet Underground, which played long, deep, angst-ridden pieces, quite unrelated to previous "dance" music.
Helter Skelter in a summer swelter...
Helter Skelter" is a Beatles song which appears on The Beatles (white album). Charles Manson, claiming to have been "inspired" by the song (through which he thought some force was speaking to him through his dog) led his followers in the Tate-LaBianca murders.
"Summer swelter" could be a reference to the "Summer of love" or the "long hot summer" of the 1965 race riots in Watts, a neighborhood of Los Angeles.
The birds flew off with the fallout shelter, eight miles high and falling fast.
The Byrd's "Eight Miles High" was on their late 1966 release Fifth Dimension. It was one of the first records to be widely banned because of supposedly drug-oriented lyrics.
Many Americans in the '50s invested in fallout shelters, areas in or near their homes which were touted as places they could go for safety in case of atomic warfare.
It landed foul on the grass
Grass," of course (?), is pot, man. One of the Byrds was busted for possesion of marijuana. Many other musicians, including the Stones and Beatles, had thier share of troubles with the weed as well.
But what would be eight miles high and falling "foul"? Most likely, the plane that carried Buddy Holly. Yes, it was a small plane and not flying eight miles high, but let's be figurative here.
The players tried for a forward pass...
Obviously a football metaphor, but about what? It could be the Rolling Stones, i.e. they were waiting for an opening which really didn't happen until the Beatles broke up.
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.
This seems clear. On July 29, 1966, Dylan crashed his Triumph 55 motorcycle while riding near his home in Woodstock, New York. He spent nine months in seclusion while recuperating from the accident.
Now the halftime air was sweet perfume...
Drugs, man. Well, now, wait a minute; that's probably too obvious. It's possible that this line and the next few refer to the 1968 Democratic National Convention. The "sweet perfume" may be an ironic reference to tear gas.
While sergeants played a marching tune...
Following from the thought above, the sergeants would be the Chicago Police and the Illinois National Guard, who marched the protestors out of the park and into jail.
Alternatively, this could refer to the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967), on the cover of which the musicians were dressed in colorful military-esque uniforms.
Or, perhaps McLean refers to the Beatles' music in general as "marching" because it wasn't music for dancing, as in the old early rock tradition.
Or, finally, the "marching tune" could be the draft.
We all got up to dance, oh, but we never got the chance.
Politically, "to dance" could mean to be free, to "give peace a chance." But "we never got the chance" because the cops busted them. See below.
Musically, this could be a reference to the Beatles' 1966 Candlestick Park concert which only lasted 35 minutes. Therefore, this could mean either there wasn't any music to dance to because the concert stopped abruptly, though this seems kind of... trite.
Most basically, this could mean that the old '50s rock style, music to dance to, lasted too brief a time, being cut short in part due to Holly's death.
'Cause the players tried to take the field; the marching band refused to yield.
Following on from the Chicago reference above, this could be another comment on protests -- if the players are the protestors at Kent State, and the marching band the Ohio National Guard. Thus, this might be a comment which follows up on the earlier reference to the draft: the government/military-industrial-complex establishment refused to accede to the demands of the peace movement.
Alternatively, this could be a reference to the dominance of the Beatles on the rock and roll scene. For instance, the Beach Boys released Pet Sounds in 1966 — an album which featured some of the same sort of studied and electronic experimentation as Sgt. Pepper.
This might also be a comment about how the dominance of the Beatles in the rock world led to more "pop art" music, leading in turn to a dearth of traditional rock and roll. This despite the fact that the Beatles recorded and extolled this kind of music all through their careers. Hell, Paul McCartney released an album of roots rock, Run Devil Run, in 1999.
Do you recall what was revealed...
Possibly a reference to Bob Dylan's song "The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest," off the 1967 album John Wesley Harding. The penultimate verse ends with the lines, "And he ["the little neighbor boy"] just walked along, alone / With his guilt so well concealed / And muttered underneath his breath / "Nothing is revealed." [Thanks to Henry R.]
And there we were all in one place...
Woodstock, most likely --- a huge gathering of people for a weekend of music, love, drugs, and understanding.
A generation lost in space...
Some people think this is a reference to the US space program, which it might be; but that seems a bit too literal. Why "lost" in space? The US found its way to the moon. Perhaps because too much attention was being put on the space program when domestic issues, civil rights, and peace were better issues for discussion and funding?
Perhaps this is a reference to hippies, who were sometimes known as the "lost generation," partially because of their particularly acute alientation from their parents, and partially because of their presumed preoccupation with drugs.
It could also be a reference to the TV show "Lost in Space"... but does this fit the overall allegorical structure of the song? Not really.
With no time left to start again.
The "lost generation" spent too much time being stoned, and had wasted their lives?
Or, perhaps, their preference for psychedelia had pushed rock and roll so far from Holly's music that it couldn't be retrieved.
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick...
Possibly a reference to Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones; "Jumpin' Jack Flash" was released in May, 1968.
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick...
Is this the Stones' Candlestick park concert?
Or, this may refer to Kennedy; see next line.
'Cause fire is the devil's only friend.
Musically, this could continue the reference to the Rolling Stones. They recorded a 1965 song called "Play With Fire" ("don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire") and an album called Their Satanic Majesties Request), just to name two examples. They were widely perceived and condemned as being a "dangerous" band (as opposed to the Beatles and other more peace- and pop-oriented groups).
It's also possible that this is a reference to the Grateful Dead's "Friend of the Devil," but it's a rather sudden jump and doesn't fit the context of the previous lines.
A political interpretation of the last four lines may refer to John "Jack" Kennedy and his quick decisions during the Cuban Missile Crisis; the candlesticks and fire refer to ICBMs and nuclear war.
And as I watched him on the stage my hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell could break that satan's spell.
While playing a concert at the Altamont Speedway in 1968, the Stones, on a tip from the Grateful Dead, appointed members of the Hell's Angels as security. During a show, near the front of the stage, a young man named Meredith Hunter was beaten and stabbed death by the Angels. I don't know the direct causes of the violence or what Hunter was doing, if anything, to provoke the Angels. Public outcry that the song "Sympathy For the Devil" had somehow incited the incident caused the Stones to drop the song from their show for the next few years. This incident is chronicled in the documentary film Gimme Shelter.
It's also possible that McLean himself viewed or views the Stones as being negatively inspired (remember, he had a religious background) by virtue of "Sympathy for the Devil," Their Satanic Majesties Request and so on. This despite the fact that the Stones recorded a lot of "roots" rock and roll, including Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away."
The most tenuous link worth mentioning in reference to this line is Bob Dylan's fabled 1965 concert at the Newport Folk Festival, where Pete Seeger is rumored to have been so angry at Dylan's electrified versions of folk songs that he threatened (jokingly?) to take an axe to the power. Dylan was also famously booed at his 1966 Manchester concert with the Band, for the same sin of electrifying his songs. But the only connection here is watching someone on stage and being angry; the context of the line offers nothing to reinforce the idea that MacLean is thinking of Dylan here.
And as the flames climbed high into the night to light the sacrificial rite...
The most likely interpretation is that McLean is still talking about Altamont, and in particular Mick Jagger's prancing and posing while it was happening. The sacrifice is Meredith Hunter, and the literal bonfires around the area, if not the Stones' fiery, Satanic connotations referred to above, provide the flames.
Or it could be a reference to Jimi Hendrix burning his Stratocaster at the Monterey Pop Festival.
I saw Satan laughing with delight...
If the Altamont theory above is correct, then Satan would be Jagger.
I met a girl who sang the blues...
Janis Joplin, most likely.
And I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away.
Joplin died of an accidental heroin overdose on October 4, 1970.
I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before...
The "sacred store" could be Bill Graham's Fillmore West, one of the great rock and roll venues of all time. (What year did the Fillmore West close?)
Alternatively, this refers to record stores in general, and their longtime practice of allowing customers to preview records in the store. It could also refer to record stores as "sacred" because this is where one goes to get "saved." (See above lyric "Can music save your mortal soul?")
But the man there said the music wouldn't play.
Perhaps he means that nobody is interested in hearing Buddy Holly et.al.'s music anymore?
Or, as above, the discontinuation of the in-store listening booths.
Or, more simply, this refers to Holly's death.
And in the streets the children screamed...
Protesting hippies, or "flower children," being beaten by police and National Guard troops; in particular, perhaps, the People's Park riots in Berkeley in 1969 and 1970, or the riots in Chicago in 1968 organized by Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin.
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed...
The trend towards psychedelic music in the '60s? Or the rise of more poetic lyrics due to the influence of Bob Dylan?
But not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken.
It could be that the broken bells are the dead musicians: neither can produce any more music.
And the three men I admire most, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost...
Holly, The Big Bopper, and Valens.
Or, Hank Williams, Presley and Holly? Seems very unlikely.
Or, JFK, Martin Luther King, and Bobby Kennedy.
Or, literally, the Holy Trinity. McLean had attended several Catholic schools.
They caught the last train for the coast.
This could be a reference to New Age California religions, or could just be a way of saying that they've left (or died --- but I don't see this as a euphemism for death). In which case, if the "three men" are the Trinity, this is a reference to the famous "God is Dead" headline in the New York Times.
This could also be an oblique reference to a line in Procol Harum's "Whiter Shade of Pale", but I'm not sure I buy that; for one thing, all of McLean's musical references are to much older "roots" rock and roll songs; and anyway I think it's more likely that this line shows up in both songs simply because it's a common cultural metaphor.
The day the music died.
That they caught the train on the day the music died tends to support the conjecture that the "three men" were Holly/Bopper/Valens, and the train symbolizes some transcendental journey like death.
Song #2:
"Jitterbug Boy," Tom Waits
On the surface, this song is a litany of the past accomplishments of a washed-up, boasting or lying drunk. It also harkens back to a past era, with the famous figures it refers to all being long dead.
Well I'm a jitterbug boy by the shoeshine...
The jitterbug was a particularly acrobatic couple dance popular during the 1930s and '40s. Because of the acerbic and aloof tone of the narrator, this is probably an ironic self-description.
...Resting on my laurels and my Hardys too.
A pun, playing on the phrase "resting on one's laurels" (meaning harking back to past achievements) and the popular comedians and filmmakers Stan Laurel (1890-1965) and Oliver Hardy (1892-1957).
Life of Riley on the swing shift, gears follow my drift.
Life of Riley:" a life of ease and luxury. Again, probably ironic and bitter from the point of view of this working stiff. Perhaps the gears "following his drift" are parts on a conveyor belt in an assembly line? To "follow one's drift" is also to understand someone.
Once upon a time I was in show biz too. I seen the Brooklyn Dodgers playin' at Ebbets Field...
The Los Angeles Dodgers were the Brooklyn Dodgers until 1958. They won the world series at Ebbets Field in 1955. Ebbets Field was the Brooklyn ballpark; it opened in 1913 and was closed in 1957. It was demolished in 1960.
...Seen the Kentucky Derby too.
A famous annual horse race for three-year-olds, part of the Triple Crown.
It's fast women, slow horses, unreliable sources...
A reference to the previous line: the narrator has had plenty of bad tips and bet on slow horses. "Fast women" means loose women, so this is a play on words as well.
...And I'm holding up the lamp post if you wanna know.
"Holding up the lamp post" is an expression meaning one is just hanging around doing nothing.
I've seen the Wabash Cannonball --- buddy I've done it all.
This refers to a famous train, a ten-wheeler, called 4-6-0, meaning that it had four wheels in front, six in back and none beyond. It was a steam train that ran from St. Louis to Detroit along the Wabash River. It stopped running in 1971.
Also, "The Wabash Cannonball" is the title of a perennial favorite by country singer-songwriter Roy Acuff (1903-1992).
Because I slept with the lions...
Cf. The Biblical book of Daniel, chapter 6. The king Darius was convinced to sign a decree saying anyone who made petition to any god or man but he should be thrown into a lions' den for thirty days. Daniel, one of Darius' most powerful ministers, knowing of the decree continued to pray to God thrice daily anyway. He was cast into the lions' den, against Darius' true wishes. After it was seen that Daniel had remained miraculously untouched overnight, he was taken out and his accusers thrown in, along with their wives and children. Seems harsh.
...And Marilyn Monroe.
Celebrated sex symbol (1926-62), perhaps the pinnacle of all sex symbols. Another play on words as the narrator uses "sleep" in two different senses, but both phrases are meant to show his prowress.
Had breakfast in the eye of a hurricane. Fought Rocky Marciano...
Marciano was a great boxer (1923-69), heavyweight champion from 1951 to 1956. He beat the great Joe Louis and remains the only undefeated heavyweight champion ever (he retired with a 49-0 record). He is considered to have been a very strong puncher.
...Played Minnesota Fats.
A billiard personality; real name Rudolph Wanderone (1913-1996). Although he never won a billiard chamionship and is not as great as true billiard champions of the era such a Willie Mosconi, the narrator probably drops Fats' name because it is much better known. Fats had a TV show in which he played pool with celebrities and played in exhibition games; he was generally a comic and colorful figure. Originally known as "New York [or Brooklyn] Fats," Wanderone took the name by which he is known today name from a fictional character of the same name portrayed by Jackie Gleason in the Paul Newman movie "The Hustler."
Burned hundred dollar bills, I've eaten Mulligan stew.
There is a marked contrast here, showing the rise and fall of the narrator's fortunes. "Mulligan stew" was the name for any kind of food (usually really stew or soup) that hobos and tramps would prepare collectively.
Got drunk with Louis Armstrong --- what's that old song?
Armstrong (1900-71) was one of the greatest horn players ever and extremely influential in jazz. He recorded and appeared in films throughout the 1920s, '30s, '40s, '50s and '60s. His recordings number about 1500, so it's hard to say what in particular "that old song" is.
I taught Mickey Mantle everything that he knows.
Mantle (1931-1995) was a great baseball player for the NY Yankees. Despite repeated injury to his legs and knees, Mantle scored 536 home runs in 2401 games and was elected Most Valuable Player in 1956, '57 and '62.
Song #3:
"Purple Toupee," They Might Be Giants
The song, overall, is a hilarious jumble of 1960s references. Although some events are described as a young child of the 1980s or '90s might see them, the lyrics make clear that the narrator is a present-day successful man, grown overweight and bald, who is trying to recall his hippie days, or at least the 1960s, and finds that, perhaps due to having choked his mind with drugs, perhaps because he never paid attention, perhaps both, can't really put all the pieces together clearly...
I remember, the year I went to camp I heard about some lady named Selma and some blacks.
This refers to the black voter registration drive organized by Martin Luther King in 1965, and the following civil rights demonstrations in Selma, Alabama. The "lady" is a blurred memory of the Alabama-born civil rights leader Rosa Parks, who in 1955 would not move to the back of the bus.
Somebody put their finger in the president's ears; it wasn't too much later they came out with Johnson's Wax.
Johnson's Wax is a polishing product made by S.C. Johnson Wax. A joke that predates TMBG goes along the lines of:
Q: How do you make Johnson's wax?
A: Put your finger in the president's ear!
There was specifically a famous photograph that was published at the time, showing Johnson holding his beagles (Him and Her) by the ears. It made a stir because it made the president look like a buffoon (the strange pose and apparent cruelty, plus LBJ's own sizable ears).
It could also, though this is stretching it, be a reference to "finger on the trigger" and the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963, and Johnson's ascension to the Presidency.
Also, and with more likelihood, could refer to Johnson's implacable attitude towards continuing the Vietnam War, despite the mood of the country, advice of aides, etc. Thus, figuratively, he has his "fingers in his ears."
I remember the book depository where they crowned the King of Cuba...
The Dallas, Texas, book depository where Lee Harvey Oswald, JFK's assassin, hid on the 6th floor. The narrator is probably conflating this with the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, in which JFK faced down Kruschev over the issue of Soviet troops in Cuba.
But note that "King" in the '60s automatically makes one think of Martin Luther King, Jr.
But the "King of Cuba" most likely refers to Fidel Castro. Interestingly, Oswald was a supporter of Castro and of communism in general. Going out on the loonie fringe, Oswald was supposedly involved in a CIA plan to overthrow Castro.
The Warren Commission report, supposedly the final official word on who shot Kennedy, was issued Sept 27, 1964.
That's all I can think of, but I'm sure there's something else --- way down inside me I can hear it coming back.
Deep in the recesses of his mind, he can "hear" the memories, which implies that music is the focus of the following:
Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down. Purple toupee and gold lamé will turn your brain around.
Purple is widely regarded as the color of psychadelia. Jimi Hendrix' biggest smash hit was, of course, "Purple Haze." Jimi didn't wear a toupee, but had a wild hairstyle, and wore gold lamé (at the same time as every color of the rainbow; he certainly had a unique sense of fashion). "Purple Haze" and some of the rest of Jimi's debut album are definitely about drugs. There was a variety of LSD known as Purple Haze, though I don't know whether it was named after the song or vice versa.
"Purple Toupee" could be a play on both the title and the music of Prince's song "Raspberry Beret," but this seems incongruous with the '60s references.
Another possible (drug-free) interpretation of "turn your brain around": Jimi was and still is considered one of the most (if not the most) influential rock musicians in history. He turned the music world upside-down.
Chinese people were fighting in the park; we tried to help them fight, no one appreciated that.
This is most likely a reference to the fact that the USA "interfered" in the Vietnam War (which began, of course, as a civil war), since the song is about Sixties events mangled up in the narrator's mind (which does not necessarily rule out Korea as well, if "park" refers to Park Chung Hee --- see below). To the confused narrator, Asian people fighting (on TV, naturally) were assumed to be Chinese; the "park" part comes from the fact that Vietnam's jungle may resemble, to the unaware or the drug-addled, a park. "No one appreciated that" would refer to, of course, all the protests of U.S. involvement the narrator would have seen on the news.
Another Asian-Park link is the fact that one of the leading Asian generals in the Korean War was named General Park Chung Hee. He plotted a coup d'etat in 1961, becaume president in 1963 and was assassinated in 1979.
Or, this could refer to the Chinese Civil War (although this occurred before the 1960s, 1946-1949), where the U.S. gave aid to the repressive nationalist side, because the other side was Communist. In the end, of course, the Communists won.
Martin X was mad when they outlawed bell bottoms; ten years later they were sharing the same cell.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. again, conflated with less pacifistic civil-rights leader Malcolm X (ten years later they were both dead).
I shouted out "Free the expo 67"...
Abbie Hoffman and the Chicago Seven were widely regarded as political prisoners following their arrest for disrupting the Democratic National Convention in 1968.
This is therefore probably is a confused reference to the call "Free the Chicago Seven," possibly mixed with a reference to Expo '67, in Montreal, Québec, in which de Gaulle said "Vive le Québec libre."
Till they stepped on my hair, and they told me I was fat.
When the Beatles (who had incredibly long hair for those days, and were slammed for it by conservatives and various other sticks-in-the-mud) first arrived in the U.S. during the British Invasion, John was just a trifle porky. The newspapers immediately dubbed him "the fat Beatle."
Now I'm very big, I'm a big important man and the only thing that's different is underneath my hat.
He is now an aging yuppie, grown fat and indolent (or a successful establishment businessman, depending on your point of view). He considers himself the same person has he was in the '60s, though, except that now instead of long hair he's bald (he has a toupee, remember?).
Purple toupee is here to stay after the hair has gone away. The purple brigade is marching from the grave.
Hair" was a popular and influential Broadway musical, from which came the songs "Aquarius" (the dawning of the age of aquarius / "the spawning of the cage and aquarium," another TMBG lyric), "Let the Sun Shine In", and of course, "Hair" (give me a head with hair / long beautiful hair").
As to "purple brigade": The "Red Brigade" is an Italian Marxist-Leninist group bent on revolution. Formed in 1969, it carries out its agenda through terrorism (such as the murder of a former Prime Minister and an American Brigadier General).
Finally, people who saw TMBG in the New York area prior to 1988 may remember that "Purple Toupee" was often dedicated to Joe Franklin, a local TV personality whose very-late-night show was a celebration of local, rather Times-Square-of-the-'50s talent --- comics, singers, minor celebs etc. Joe, who just retired last year, would be very generous with his air time, and it was on The Joe Franklin Show that John & John first met the etherealized waves -- back in '83 or '84. Anyway, if you ever saw Joe, you'd know that "Purple Toupee" and "gold lame" are both appropriate to the show's dress code.
The end.
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