I... think I just did some meta?
Shitty and nonacademic analysis of a song follows, be warned. I know nothing about music theory; this is purely my emotional/intellectual reaction to the music.
So. America’s Suitehearts.
When I read the title, I didn’t understand. Par for the Pete Wentz course, I think.
The intro: During the first chord, I visualize a flat plane, blank canvas, and the bass/drums/clapping starts in and it builds suspense. My heartbeat seems to fall in synch, and the chord jumps higher, and I think - this will be good, a pleasant revelation, harmonious. Suspense, and the chord climbs, still pleasant, anticipatory. The final chord of the intro is a seventh, I think, purposefully discordant and intended to leave the ear desiring more to round it out, and that discord suddenly turns it around and seems ominous. I’m more anxious for the song than excited, and I don’t know what to expect.
The intro ends with the instruments cutting off, and for a moment, nothing. The suspense of the intro hangs on - Patrick’s voice swoops in, low and strong, catching the song, and from the first syllable there is a palpable rhythm in the words. (I’ll discuss the lyrics later, perhaps.) There isn’t any constant backup from the instruments; the drums remain unobtrusive, primarily cymbals and reinforcing the beat of the vocals, and the guitar and bass have small, fiddly fingerwork to embellish and echo the singer. The vocals are the driving force of the song, at this point.
The falsetto, softer backup vocals, which end the first few lines, drop to a low and seem resigned or solemn. The speaker has achieved nothing in particular, at this point, and his flagging hope that he ever will is communicated by these soft voices. Because they are so limp, the ear almost doesn’t recognize the word sung, while the vocals, especially the penultimate word, are strong and precise, with a discrete progression down the scale.
The tempo is slow, waiting for each beat, emphasizing the sense of sobriety, deliberate and restrained. Hard, steady work to reach where the speaker is going.
The repetition of ‘why’ blurs the word into an incomplete sound - it looses meaning the more times it’s asked, until it’s simply ‘wah-wah-wah’ - and the vocals end the line high and strained, whining. In conjunction with the lyrics: ‘Why won’t the world revolve around me?’, this implies that whining and demanding popularity only serve to paint the speaker in a negative, juvenile light. The backup vocals are almost identical to the primary voice in strength, but greater in numbers; many people ask the same question, the speaker is unique but not separate.
At the first chorus, the bass fills in with more purpose; the vocals are not longer alone, they have accrued a following, some support. Still, falsetto backup vocals repeat the last word of each line, ineffective and nearly mocking. The drums and guitar are background noise, independent of the overall piece.
‘Media blitz’, and the remaining two instruments breaking from previous patterns to fall in with the vocals, powerfully hitting the last half-beats before a pause, and then the intensely different chorus.
The vocals speed up to half-time, and soar into a sustained note. The instruments carry the song, leaving the vocals to do fiddly things with notes; rather than slid through the scales, like the first backup vocals, he hits each note in between, stopping to see the sights. The voice is continuous, no longer clipping each word separately and distinctly.
‘Let’s hear it for America’s Suitehearts’ is repeated, with a lengthening of ‘hearts’. Analyzed with a mind toward these lyrics; the speaker has achieved popularity, gathered a following (the instruments, doing the heavy lifting), and is now free to do whatever he wants. As one of America’s sweethearts, he can do no wrong. The freedom and showing off of the vocals reflects a fun, irresponsible time, doing whatever he wants (to excess, perhaps.) Oh, the life of a celebrity.
The vocals slow to the original tempo, more controlled, with discrete, separate notes, to admit; ‘I’m in love with my own sins.’ The speaker recognizes that he is changed from the personality of earlier in the song, and returns to that frame of mind to recognize that his fame is causing his uncontrolled behavior. In the repeat, the vocals soar, and he embraces the fame once more.
In the second verse, the instruments disperse and do their own thing once more, and the vocals sober up and return to the pre-fame normal; however, the backup vocals are absent, and the vocalist himself adds the final word, unavoidably making it stronger. That normality is not completely achievable, as the speaker now has the self-confidence of a star. The lyrics are, ‘pretend that you don’t know you’re a legend’. Ignoring his celebrity status will not make the changes in himself and his perception of the world reverse themselves.
At ‘don’t’, the instruments pause, shut out entirely by the speaker’s insistence.
‘Time’, repeated, emphasizes and demarks the time passing in monotony, one day like another, no matter the level of fame. The life the speaker worked for loses the gleam and glitter of fame and fades into unimportance; behind the vocalist, the speaker casually says, ‘Yeah, sorry I was late’, shrugging it off. He is comfortable in his position as a legend; again, as America’s sweetheart, he can do whatever he wants and never lose favor.
The vocals adopt a shadow, backup vocals very similar and yet different enough to be distinct. The second set is slightly off time, but they seem to compete, running to the second chorus. Again, the bass is the first to get behind the vocals, which here diverge and actively one-up each other for a few lines - this second voice is a rival for the spotlight, challenging the speaker’s status. The primary vocals regain strength lost in the lull of the second verse (when he became complacent), and, renewed, he launches into the true chorus.
The instruments, his fanbase, are stronger than ever, and the vocals don’t need to rest or break. Back into a serious attempt to resecure his position, the star is not taking chances; he is determined to appreciate this life, because obviously he is capable of screwing this up for himself.
When he repeats ‘sins’, the instruments taper off and the vocalist is flying for that one, sustained note - in the first chorus, this was the moment when he embraced the celebrity lifestyle and indulged to excess, and now he’s made a mistake in committing to a risky act. As he pulls ahead of and above his fans, they (the instruments) fall into a pounding, suspenseful beat, as in the intro, egging him on and he holds and holds the note. The vocalist pulls out of it gracefully, no break in his voice, and he’s done it. Instead of ending the career in a train wreck, the speaker can continue.
Past all of these hurdles, and with the same suspenseful, building beat behind him, the speak revisits his roots and early missteps, now strong and purposeful, still allowing the backup singers to finish the line - but he allows them, he doesn’t require them. The next line, he climbs again and breaks into the chorus.
The instruments (fans) leave him hanging for a moment, they can’t immediately follow this unexpected route, and then rejoin, stronger than ever.
Strong, backup vocals fill in and wind around the primary speaker, and he allows this, too. Another upcoming celebrity is on the scene, but the speak doesn’t feel threatened; he has infallibly secured his reputation as an American sweetheart.
The song draws to a close with a sustained note, the speaker glorying in his success, two separate backup vocals under that supporting him, as well; they are looking for their own place, not seeking to unseat the speaker.
And everything ends in one last ‘America’s sweetheart’ before the drums solidly echo the suspenseful beat, but with a deeper, final connotation; this is the end.
So. America’s Suitehearts.
When I read the title, I didn’t understand. Par for the Pete Wentz course, I think.
The intro: During the first chord, I visualize a flat plane, blank canvas, and the bass/drums/clapping starts in and it builds suspense. My heartbeat seems to fall in synch, and the chord jumps higher, and I think - this will be good, a pleasant revelation, harmonious. Suspense, and the chord climbs, still pleasant, anticipatory. The final chord of the intro is a seventh, I think, purposefully discordant and intended to leave the ear desiring more to round it out, and that discord suddenly turns it around and seems ominous. I’m more anxious for the song than excited, and I don’t know what to expect.
The intro ends with the instruments cutting off, and for a moment, nothing. The suspense of the intro hangs on - Patrick’s voice swoops in, low and strong, catching the song, and from the first syllable there is a palpable rhythm in the words. (I’ll discuss the lyrics later, perhaps.) There isn’t any constant backup from the instruments; the drums remain unobtrusive, primarily cymbals and reinforcing the beat of the vocals, and the guitar and bass have small, fiddly fingerwork to embellish and echo the singer. The vocals are the driving force of the song, at this point.
The falsetto, softer backup vocals, which end the first few lines, drop to a low and seem resigned or solemn. The speaker has achieved nothing in particular, at this point, and his flagging hope that he ever will is communicated by these soft voices. Because they are so limp, the ear almost doesn’t recognize the word sung, while the vocals, especially the penultimate word, are strong and precise, with a discrete progression down the scale.
The tempo is slow, waiting for each beat, emphasizing the sense of sobriety, deliberate and restrained. Hard, steady work to reach where the speaker is going.
The repetition of ‘why’ blurs the word into an incomplete sound - it looses meaning the more times it’s asked, until it’s simply ‘wah-wah-wah’ - and the vocals end the line high and strained, whining. In conjunction with the lyrics: ‘Why won’t the world revolve around me?’, this implies that whining and demanding popularity only serve to paint the speaker in a negative, juvenile light. The backup vocals are almost identical to the primary voice in strength, but greater in numbers; many people ask the same question, the speaker is unique but not separate.
At the first chorus, the bass fills in with more purpose; the vocals are not longer alone, they have accrued a following, some support. Still, falsetto backup vocals repeat the last word of each line, ineffective and nearly mocking. The drums and guitar are background noise, independent of the overall piece.
‘Media blitz’, and the remaining two instruments breaking from previous patterns to fall in with the vocals, powerfully hitting the last half-beats before a pause, and then the intensely different chorus.
The vocals speed up to half-time, and soar into a sustained note. The instruments carry the song, leaving the vocals to do fiddly things with notes; rather than slid through the scales, like the first backup vocals, he hits each note in between, stopping to see the sights. The voice is continuous, no longer clipping each word separately and distinctly.
‘Let’s hear it for America’s Suitehearts’ is repeated, with a lengthening of ‘hearts’. Analyzed with a mind toward these lyrics; the speaker has achieved popularity, gathered a following (the instruments, doing the heavy lifting), and is now free to do whatever he wants. As one of America’s sweethearts, he can do no wrong. The freedom and showing off of the vocals reflects a fun, irresponsible time, doing whatever he wants (to excess, perhaps.) Oh, the life of a celebrity.
The vocals slow to the original tempo, more controlled, with discrete, separate notes, to admit; ‘I’m in love with my own sins.’ The speaker recognizes that he is changed from the personality of earlier in the song, and returns to that frame of mind to recognize that his fame is causing his uncontrolled behavior. In the repeat, the vocals soar, and he embraces the fame once more.
In the second verse, the instruments disperse and do their own thing once more, and the vocals sober up and return to the pre-fame normal; however, the backup vocals are absent, and the vocalist himself adds the final word, unavoidably making it stronger. That normality is not completely achievable, as the speaker now has the self-confidence of a star. The lyrics are, ‘pretend that you don’t know you’re a legend’. Ignoring his celebrity status will not make the changes in himself and his perception of the world reverse themselves.
At ‘don’t’, the instruments pause, shut out entirely by the speaker’s insistence.
‘Time’, repeated, emphasizes and demarks the time passing in monotony, one day like another, no matter the level of fame. The life the speaker worked for loses the gleam and glitter of fame and fades into unimportance; behind the vocalist, the speaker casually says, ‘Yeah, sorry I was late’, shrugging it off. He is comfortable in his position as a legend; again, as America’s sweetheart, he can do whatever he wants and never lose favor.
The vocals adopt a shadow, backup vocals very similar and yet different enough to be distinct. The second set is slightly off time, but they seem to compete, running to the second chorus. Again, the bass is the first to get behind the vocals, which here diverge and actively one-up each other for a few lines - this second voice is a rival for the spotlight, challenging the speaker’s status. The primary vocals regain strength lost in the lull of the second verse (when he became complacent), and, renewed, he launches into the true chorus.
The instruments, his fanbase, are stronger than ever, and the vocals don’t need to rest or break. Back into a serious attempt to resecure his position, the star is not taking chances; he is determined to appreciate this life, because obviously he is capable of screwing this up for himself.
When he repeats ‘sins’, the instruments taper off and the vocalist is flying for that one, sustained note - in the first chorus, this was the moment when he embraced the celebrity lifestyle and indulged to excess, and now he’s made a mistake in committing to a risky act. As he pulls ahead of and above his fans, they (the instruments) fall into a pounding, suspenseful beat, as in the intro, egging him on and he holds and holds the note. The vocalist pulls out of it gracefully, no break in his voice, and he’s done it. Instead of ending the career in a train wreck, the speaker can continue.
Past all of these hurdles, and with the same suspenseful, building beat behind him, the speak revisits his roots and early missteps, now strong and purposeful, still allowing the backup singers to finish the line - but he allows them, he doesn’t require them. The next line, he climbs again and breaks into the chorus.
The instruments (fans) leave him hanging for a moment, they can’t immediately follow this unexpected route, and then rejoin, stronger than ever.
Strong, backup vocals fill in and wind around the primary speaker, and he allows this, too. Another upcoming celebrity is on the scene, but the speak doesn’t feel threatened; he has infallibly secured his reputation as an American sweetheart.
The song draws to a close with a sustained note, the speaker glorying in his success, two separate backup vocals under that supporting him, as well; they are looking for their own place, not seeking to unseat the speaker.
And everything ends in one last ‘America’s sweetheart’ before the drums solidly echo the suspenseful beat, but with a deeper, final connotation; this is the end.