Lyrics Countdown #10
It's A Pose
Jimmy, you know my love is true.
Davy, you know I love only you.
Mitchy, you get me through every day.
Nathan... hold on, I got somethin' to say.
Men folk, they need their women,
But women don't need their men.
Ladies can walk away grinnin',
While guys act surprised, "I thought I was your man!
Why'd you leave me baby?"
Well, sir, here's a maybe:
Maybe it's because we can.
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well, for instance, you get a one, you want two fold.
"And what else?"
You're a fiend, you're tight fisted;
Got no moral molars, shrug your shoulders
Sell your soul to get your gold.
But hey, hey, hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you.
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'!
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
You're preenin' in your armchair
While I'm steamin' at your knee
Go on pontificatin', like I care.
Peter Lorrie, then a story 'bout AC/DC.
Harvard educated, frustrated dictator,
Tyrant with a Ph.D.
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well, for instance, you have started every war.
"And what else?"
You're obscene, a coincidence,
Get your porno from Time Warner
Who is fornicatin' foreign shores.
But hey hey hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you!
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'.
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
Sammy, ohhh, let me put away the kettle.
Oh no, honey, it's your arrogance that makes you special.
And Manny, of course when you leave you're missed.
Oooh-eee-oooooh, fellas,
Can't you see I'm pissed?
Tryin' to enjoy my readin'
While you insist on interpretin' text.
Oh, go on, fuck it, I'm pleadin';
Every sentence is a pretext for sex, sex, sex, sex!
God, you went to Oxford?
Head's still in your boxers,
But you're a man, so what should I expect?
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well for instance, you've committed every rape.
"And what else?"
I won't heed your insistence,
Mister copulatin', populatin', masturbatin', denegratin'
Birth of a nation instigatin', violator of my escape!
But hey hey hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you!
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'.
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
Heaven knows, the world's your ho,
But she's gettin' too old for your pose.
And whoops - there she goes.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Nellie McKay
Album: Get Away From Me
Most vivid memory: It is amazing to me there was a time in my life where I subsisted without the assistance of Nellie McKay's lyricism. This girl - my junior by four years, goddammit - has somehow managed to sum up everything I've ever felt, wrangle it up into tight, tongue-twisting quirky poetry, and then set it to piano. That said, she is my hero. I first listened to Get Away From Me maybe a month or so after it came out... I had read about Nellie in the Village Voice, and remember being intrigued by their description of this new Doris-Day-meets-Eminem ingenue (uh, how could I not be?). Much like myself, she is a theatre-kid turned anti-theatre-kid (although once her music career started thriving, she redelved [why wouldn't you, when offers are coming to you and you don't have to sit in a typecasting line in Chelsea for seven hours?]... but it doesn't bother me because 1.) I secretly envy her and 2.) her music still reflects my sentiments on the matter both past and present), an activist and - most importantly - a feminist. So I had burned Get Away From Me into my iPod. The physical CD is actually a double disc and I had never strayed from disc 1 (I usually FF-ed straight to Nick Cave), so when "It's A Pose" lilted into my iTunes for the first time, it was completely unexpected. Sure, the song is very uppy and its hard to deny any song with a fiddle, but the real reason this tune caught my ear was because of the lyrics. A sardonic take on men, selfish, ignorant, abusive, tyrranical.
I should note that it came onto my iPod mere minutes after the first time I saw Mike post-break-up. I was getting on the subway and he was getting off... we crossed paths, and I immediately felt sick. He looked at me earnestly and I could feel myself unwillingly looking earnestly back, all the while internally slapping myself for having not spit ten times in his face. It had been about three weeks, which, really, isn't much time, but after spending nearly three years with a person day in and day out, it felt like a lifetime. I was sitting on the subway and my chest was beating Tell Tale Heart style. I plugged in my ear buds and soothed myself with my then-favorite Nellie song, Ding Dong (a gentle suicide lullaby). I was lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to the music, when, shazam, It's A Pose came on. A serendipitous summons from the head-straigtening goddesses: He's an asshole, he's an asshole, he's an asshole. For that matter, so are most men, so are most men, so are most men. [Side bar: for anyone that doesn't know me, when I say "most men", I don't mean 99%, or that I am a man-hater, I simply mean that the majority of men on this planet, even if that majority peaks out at 51%, are bad, bad people. I do now have a boyfriend that I love very much who is the antithesis of evil and gives me nice smooches.] I am not employing hyperbole when I say that this song (along with my iPod's "repeat" function) is what kept me positive and forward-facing in the aftermath of that relationship. The few times that I almost caved to the pressure of calling, I would put on It's A Pose and remember what I am worth and what he is not. Nowadays, when I listen to this song, it puts me in the giddiest of Thelma and Louisey moods... where most young feminists have turned to Ani Di, I have turned to Nellie McKay.
Jimmy, you know my love is true.
Davy, you know I love only you.
Mitchy, you get me through every day.
Nathan... hold on, I got somethin' to say.
Men folk, they need their women,
But women don't need their men.
Ladies can walk away grinnin',
While guys act surprised, "I thought I was your man!
Why'd you leave me baby?"
Well, sir, here's a maybe:
Maybe it's because we can.
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well, for instance, you get a one, you want two fold.
"And what else?"
You're a fiend, you're tight fisted;
Got no moral molars, shrug your shoulders
Sell your soul to get your gold.
But hey, hey, hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you.
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'!
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
You're preenin' in your armchair
While I'm steamin' at your knee
Go on pontificatin', like I care.
Peter Lorrie, then a story 'bout AC/DC.
Harvard educated, frustrated dictator,
Tyrant with a Ph.D.
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well, for instance, you have started every war.
"And what else?"
You're obscene, a coincidence,
Get your porno from Time Warner
Who is fornicatin' foreign shores.
But hey hey hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you!
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'.
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
Sammy, ohhh, let me put away the kettle.
Oh no, honey, it's your arrogance that makes you special.
And Manny, of course when you leave you're missed.
Oooh-eee-oooooh, fellas,
Can't you see I'm pissed?
Tryin' to enjoy my readin'
While you insist on interpretin' text.
Oh, go on, fuck it, I'm pleadin';
Every sentence is a pretext for sex, sex, sex, sex!
God, you went to Oxford?
Head's still in your boxers,
But you're a man, so what should I expect?
"What the hell do you mean?"
Well for instance, you've committed every rape.
"And what else?"
I won't heed your insistence,
Mister copulatin', populatin', masturbatin', denegratin'
Birth of a nation instigatin', violator of my escape!
But hey hey hey - that ain't nothin' to do with you!
You're a 'sensitive Joe', I'm forgettin'.
But every woman knows: It's a pose, it's a pose.
Heaven knows, the world's your ho,
But she's gettin' too old for your pose.
And whoops - there she goes.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Nellie McKay
Album: Get Away From Me
Most vivid memory: It is amazing to me there was a time in my life where I subsisted without the assistance of Nellie McKay's lyricism. This girl - my junior by four years, goddammit - has somehow managed to sum up everything I've ever felt, wrangle it up into tight, tongue-twisting quirky poetry, and then set it to piano. That said, she is my hero. I first listened to Get Away From Me maybe a month or so after it came out... I had read about Nellie in the Village Voice, and remember being intrigued by their description of this new Doris-Day-meets-Eminem ingenue (uh, how could I not be?). Much like myself, she is a theatre-kid turned anti-theatre-kid (although once her music career started thriving, she redelved [why wouldn't you, when offers are coming to you and you don't have to sit in a typecasting line in Chelsea for seven hours?]... but it doesn't bother me because 1.) I secretly envy her and 2.) her music still reflects my sentiments on the matter both past and present), an activist and - most importantly - a feminist. So I had burned Get Away From Me into my iPod. The physical CD is actually a double disc and I had never strayed from disc 1 (I usually FF-ed straight to Nick Cave), so when "It's A Pose" lilted into my iTunes for the first time, it was completely unexpected. Sure, the song is very uppy and its hard to deny any song with a fiddle, but the real reason this tune caught my ear was because of the lyrics. A sardonic take on men, selfish, ignorant, abusive, tyrranical.
I should note that it came onto my iPod mere minutes after the first time I saw Mike post-break-up. I was getting on the subway and he was getting off... we crossed paths, and I immediately felt sick. He looked at me earnestly and I could feel myself unwillingly looking earnestly back, all the while internally slapping myself for having not spit ten times in his face. It had been about three weeks, which, really, isn't much time, but after spending nearly three years with a person day in and day out, it felt like a lifetime. I was sitting on the subway and my chest was beating Tell Tale Heart style. I plugged in my ear buds and soothed myself with my then-favorite Nellie song, Ding Dong (a gentle suicide lullaby). I was lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to the music, when, shazam, It's A Pose came on. A serendipitous summons from the head-straigtening goddesses: He's an asshole, he's an asshole, he's an asshole. For that matter, so are most men, so are most men, so are most men. [Side bar: for anyone that doesn't know me, when I say "most men", I don't mean 99%, or that I am a man-hater, I simply mean that the majority of men on this planet, even if that majority peaks out at 51%, are bad, bad people. I do now have a boyfriend that I love very much who is the antithesis of evil and gives me nice smooches.] I am not employing hyperbole when I say that this song (along with my iPod's "repeat" function) is what kept me positive and forward-facing in the aftermath of that relationship. The few times that I almost caved to the pressure of calling, I would put on It's A Pose and remember what I am worth and what he is not. Nowadays, when I listen to this song, it puts me in the giddiest of Thelma and Louisey moods... where most young feminists have turned to Ani Di, I have turned to Nellie McKay.