Operation: Drewing Around. Installment 1, New York City
The Man: Drew Sarich, American born singer/songwriter and actor in musical theatre. He has been seen on and off Broadway in numbers as varied as Armand in Lestat, every role under the sun in Les Miserables, Quasimodo in die Glöckner von Notre Dame, and Rudolf in Rudolf Affaire Mayerling. Plus other things, which certain people I know will massacre me for not mentioning. (They love his Judas.) He's six-foot-plus with a voice like an angel and a vibrato to die for.
The Project: In addition to his exploits on the American and German (& Austrian... & West End) stage, Drew is something of a songwriter with two albums out: his solo album “Say It” and “I.V” with his band, International Victim. The tunes are powerful, poignant, or catchy; his voice is sublime; but what I love about them are the lyrics. They are definitely the strong points of his work.
They can also be tough to interpret. So, over the next couple of days I'm going to be running through those songs and doing my best to explain.
I'll try to keep my language understandable. I'm unfortunately known for waxing poetic. It's just my vocabulary.
The Consensus: Let me know what you think! I don't “get” everything, I can only tell you what I hear when I listen to the songs. You've probably figured out things I haven't. You will definitely have different takes on some of the lyrics and lines. I'd love to hear it. Note that Drew really doesn't give us any lyrics for his songs *cry* so sometimes I'm not sure what the word is. I'll let you know if that happens.
If you want the final word on what's going on - well, you'll just have to ask Drew, won't you?
I was asked to do a couple of these first, so let's start with the latest: New York City.
The Song:
Click to viewIn one sentence, what's going on?
Down on his luck, out of work actor strikes up a conversation with an attractive girl about life in NYC.
Why do you love it?
It reads like the “story of my life” for Drew. More about that later.
So explain.
I'm going to go through line by line. Bold = song lyrics. I will italicize certain parts for emphasis. First off, the song is half of a dialog with the (attractive!) bartender. Think of it of the sort of half drunk conversation you get between people sitting in a bar.
65 cents
I’ve gone through all of my pockets
And this cocksucker barman is gonna end me
For the price of my Whiskey and Coke
New York City, she’s no fucking joke
New York City, she’s no fucking joke
This verse sets the scene. Our man is sitting in a bar in NYC. He's gone through his pockets and come up with a total of $0.65 (not enough to buy a drink) and the bartender is going to “end him”, verbally ream him out (yell at him) until he feels like he's gotten back the price of the drink. Basically, he's so broke he can't even pay for the alcohol he's drinking. The refrain of the song, “New York City...” is said bitterly. Life is not a bed of roses. NYC isn't all glitz and glamor.
See I shined up my resume
And learned every song one could want
But I still ain’t the type
Couple pounds overweight
And too plain for the boys who make heroes and lookers like you
New York City’s too good to be true
This is where we find out he's an out of work (down on his luck, between jobs) musical theatre actor. He's “learned every song one could want” for the role, but isn't what the casting director is looking for. It's not that he has a bad voice; his build isn't right, he just doesn't fit the role the way they want. So he's not cast, he's out of work.
Plus, he's too plain (not good lookin' enough) to make a smash hit leading man (“the boys who make heroes”). More, he considers himself too plain for “lookers like you”. In case you didn't know ;) a “looker” is a slang term for a pretty girl. So the stage is set: broke out of work actor, turned down (yet) again, telling his story to the attractive gal behind the bar.
The last line is an ironic comment on the place NYC has in the imagination. It conjures up images of success in the spotlight on the stage, leading roles, pretty girls. But that idealistic image of NYC is “too good to be true”; the reality is something different.
But oh, ask back in Kansas
You see the consensus is I’ve hit the top here
And though I appear broke and breathless
I’m young and I’m reckless enough to not know when to stop
Even though he's broke and gasping for oxygen (metaphorically: he's running out of steam), if you go “back home to Kansas” (or any place where NYC is a far away dream), the people back there will tell you he is a success. He's been on Broadway, he's been cast in leading roles, he's a rising star.
See my lady she’s pretty
She talks like a dream
The epitome of guilty persuasion
And she says I can’t come home
Till I learn how to roll up my sleeves and make good what I spoke
Oh New York City, she’s no fucking joke
Vocab check: epitome - the peak, the highest point, a perfect example.
He already has a girl back home who “talks like a dream” (she enchants him). Maybe she even encouraged him to move into the city (guilty persuasion). She won't take no for an answer, won't let him give up, doesn't want him to come back until he's worked his butt off (roll up my sleeves) and made something of himself.
I see you’re uncomfortable
You stare at the beer you’ve been drinking
And wish you was gone
Shit like at Hooters you’d be free
From the losers like me
Plugging strangers for kind words and smokes
New York City
He stops talking about the girl back home and pays attention to the bartender. Like any girl, she of course has gotten uncomfortable that he's talking about another woman. So she's staring at her own beer and wishing she was somewhere else.
Cultural check: I don't know if you know what Hooters is. It's a chain of restaurants where all the waitresses are really attractive girls. So the lines italicized above could be written as “You wish you were somewhere else. Well, shit. If you worked at Hooters, for example, you wouldn't have to deal with losers like me in the bar.” If the bartender worked at Hooters instead of at this bar, she wouldn't have to deal with him / his type.
More vocab: to “plug” someone is to ask for, beg for, mooch, bum. So he's looking for kind words (and cigarettes - smokes) from anyone who will give them.
But ask back in Texas
They say the consensus is we’ve hit the top here
And though we seem broke and breathless
We’re young and too reckless to know when the right time to stop
So what’s the word on those 65 cents
Hey there’s no sweat my friend
There’s some ice at the end of the bar saying payday is today
In New York City there’s always a way
There’s always a way
A nice closure: he goes back to the opening line, 65 cents. Now that he's told her his sob story, what does she have to say about him not being able to pay for the drink?
We've been seeing everything from his point of view. All the words so far are his words. Now, however, SHE replies to him: “Hey, there's no sweat my friend. There's some ice at the end of the bar, saying payday is today.” Basically, he can't pay, but she's not going to take it out on him. She knows what it is like to be in his place; he gets a sympathetic ear. Take some ice with his drink, everything will be alright for today.
The last few lines gives us the first time the refrain isn't meant bitterly. It's a sort of “life goes on” moment. Yeah, he's out of work, down on his luck, and broke; but he will find a way to get through, to go on, and the wheel will swing around and things will look up, some day.
Because in NYC there's always a way.
So what do you mean, life story?
If you listen to Drew's interview on Seth's chatterbox, or what he felt in being cast as Valjean in Les Mis, he talks a little bit about not being the “right type” for a leading role. You can have an awesome voice and just not be what the casting director is looking for, and that means you don't have the part. Besides people like handsome leading men, and if they think you're plain, well...
I'm not one to comment on this, I really like interesting and unusual features. It's the artist in me, I like seeing what kinds of planes and angles put together a face. I feel like a stalker saying it, but Drew has an amazingly expressive and unusual “look” that makes for a fantastic study for an artist. :) There, I admitted it...
Anything else?
I hate how my explanation reads like the plot to a cheap novel scene. But I think you can get the mood of what is going on from the melodic line and the sound of it. Quiet, down and out, a sigh and a story, but determination at the end and a hint of glory.
I heard this song for the first time just the other day, but it's one of my favorites. Now if only I could sing it... because, you see, I don't swear. And I haven't figured out yet how to amend the lyrics just the little bit I need to avoid swearing. ;)
Questions? Ask away!