This is the second post in a series of six, in which I’m lyricblogging the 1976 Rush album 2112. To start at the beginning, see the post that started it all yesterday here.
I had a lot to write about the album’s title track, “2112”, which is quite long and dense with interesting material, and seemed in need of detailed description/explanation. For this second track, “A Passage to Bangkok” (which, it may relieve you to learn, is only three and a half minutes long) and some others, I’ll largely just post the lyrics — in no small part because the song’s role in the overall story is still a bit of an enigma to me.
My best guess so far is that it describes the return to Earth of the “Elder Race of Man” mentioned in the title track — which, interestingly, would seem to imply that the ominous chant of “We have assumed control” that’s repeated at the end of the previous track is not a malevolent declaration by the Priests of the Temple of Syrinx, but a proclamation by the Elder Race that they’ve arrived “to (re)claim the home where they belong”. Having returned home after a long exile, they travel the planet to survey all the old familiar places.
That’s just a guess though. This stuff is pretty out there. Rarely can Rush be accused of unimaginative lyrics…
A Passage to Bangkok
Our first stop is in Bogota
To check Columbian fields
The natives smile and pass along
A sample of their yield
Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams
Golden Acapulco nights
Then Morocco, and the East,
Fly by morning light
We’re on the train to Bangkok
Aboard the Thailand Express
We’ll hit the stops along the way
We only stop for the best
Wreathed in smoke in Lebanon
We burn the midnight oil
The fragrance of Afghanistan
Rewards a long day’s toil
Pulling into Katmandu
Smoke rings fill the air
Perfumed by a Nepal night
The Express gets you there
We’re on the train to Bangkok
Aboard the Thailand Express
We’ll hit the stops along the way
We only stop for the best
More to come…
Previous: 2112 | Next: The Twilight Zone
2112 — The Complete Album
- 2112
- A Passage to Bangkok
- The Twilight Zone
- Lessons
- Tears
- Something for Nothing
At Big Hollywood: Andrew Breitbart pledges to ridicule celebrities who refuse to recognize we are at war with people who want to kill them, too:
Many of the celebrities that were central to demonizing and making life impossible for President Bush for eight loathsome years NOW want to help with the heavy lifting of bringing America back together under President Barack Obama.
Witness Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher’s cavalcade of shiny, happy situational patriots appearing in a derivative public servitude video campaign: A “Presidential Pledge” to President Barack Obama.
…
Missing are pledges not to kiss the ring of Fidel Castro, Hugo Chavez and other pledged enemies of America. Nor are there pledges not to make movies that glorify these tyrants. Nor are there pledges to take seriously that we are at war, will continue to be at war under President Obama and that our precious and under-appreciated military is fighting an avowed and evil enemy — so that, among other things, Hollywood can continue to make decadent crap that actually motivates our enemy to fight us harder!
…
God bless, President Obama. Even though I didn’t vote for him, and disagree with much of his agenda, he has my best wishes and all of my best efforts.
But that doesn’t mean I will forgive and forget an era of narcissism, petty complaining and conspiracy theory peddling from the majority celebrity class that began well before Iraq. [See “Hollywood, Interrupted” — my book co-written with Mark Ebner — which was written before and during the build-up to the Iraq war and before the WMDs weren’t found. The public behavior from Hollywood even then was almost uniformly deplorable.]
Conspiracy theories of America’s complicity in 9/11 dominated cocktail party discussions for eight tedious years. They couldn’t simply disagree with Bush. They had to ascribe evil to his motivations and make sure the whole world agreed on that flawed premise.
Yet, hating the president doesn’t mean one can’t still help out the country in a great time of need. But many went to foreign countries and demeaned it instead. Called those that disagreed with them rubes and hicks. The elitism of the celebrities against flyover country America could not have been more pronounced. They made a boat-load of movies that affirmed this narrow and patronizing world view.
And now they want us back.
We’re all Americans — NOW.
Indeed. Read the whole thing.
And, while you’re visiting Big Hollywood, don’t miss this phenomenal article by TV writer and journalist Charles Winecoff, in which he recounts the trials of coming out of the Hollywood closet twice: first as a gay man in 1977, then again as a 9/11 Republican. It’s truly one of the best pieces I have read in a while, not to be missed. (Big thanks to Erick Brockway for pointing it out!)
An unusual sort of offering, perhaps — presented for your consideration in observance of Inauguration 2009:
This is the first post in a series, in which I’m planning to lyricblog the six tracks of the extraordinary 1976 Rush album 2112, one post per song. Writing about some of the music and song lyrics that have greatly affected my life and thinking is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while (I also have Rush’s excellent “A Farewell to Kings” and “Hemispheres” in my sights as future projects), and with the Changes that are imminent here in the U.S. I find the themes embodied in 2112 are especially on my mind. Rockstars who lay claim to defiant rebellion are legion, but to me, there is nothing more authentically rock ‘n roll than rebelling against statism in the way that this album succeeds in doing.
I’m hoping the results may be as interesting to others as the idea of the project has felt to me. If the amateur commentary I’ve presented here looks insufferably long and boring, however, please feel free to skip this series and just take it as an enthusiastic recommendation to have a listen to 2112 yourself. Among other places (without endorsing any particular vendor; just providing the links as a convenience), the album can be purchased on iTunes, as well as on Amazon as either an MP3 download or a physical CD (remember those?).
The published lyrics for 2112 include some backstory narrative that isn’t spoken or sung in the recording. I’ve decided to omit that text here and focus on the album as you’ll actually hear it. A search for Rush+2112+lyrics will turn up numerous sites that have the full published lyrics with the narrative text included.
I’ve given the album a lot of thought since first discovering it sometime around 2003, but my interpretation is certainly not the only one, or even necessarily consistent with the band’s intent. (I’m a fan as a listener, but haven’t read up on what the band or others had to say about 2112’s theme and meaning.) Have a listen and see what you think. Rush are in general known for song themes inspired by Ayn Rand’s “Objectivist” philosophy, and 2112 is certainly a prime example of that.
OK, enough introductory rambling. With that, I invite you to brace for the ride and queue up the album’s title track: “2112”. At 20 minutes, this is a long one, but I promise it’s well worth the journey.
I. Overture
0:00 Ear-assailing yet delightfully campy electronic sounds (this is indeed the finest in 1970s progressive rock!) whirl in — oscillating, screeching, conjuring a sci-fi UFO landing. Perfectly synchronized drums, bass, and power chords pop in at 0:46, Rush’s trademark use of precise stops and starts, tempo changes, and free time already making their appearance. (By the way: Best. Drummer. Ever.)
Around 1:30 the band picks up into a galloping riff that brings to mind a charge of horses. Distant voices swirl in the background, then around 1:58 we get triumphant, anthemic guitar work over sustained chords. 2:30 brings the Temples of Syrinx theme, then at 3:04 a wailing, troubled guitar solo, chock full o’ feeling. At 3:33 a switch to yet another whole new riff. (Rush packs more good hooks into this one song than many bands do into an entire album.) Then at 4:07 a reference to the famous finale melody of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.
At 4:16, crashes of synchronized drums, bass, and guitar over explosions, fading away as if we were at 2112’s own finale already … but then at 4:25 come the first of the lyrics (yes, believe it or not there really are lyrics to this song!) — a gentle, phased-guitar-accompanied:
And the meek shall inherit the earth…
II. Temples of Syrinx
4:34 The tempo picks up to a trot again, and we’re greeted by the shrill chorus of the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx: ostensibly benevolent engineers of the future utopia of 2112 — omnipotent keepers of the culture and its art — shrieking the justification for their all-encompassing rule:
We’ve taken care of everything
The words you hear, the songs you sing
The pictures that give pleasure to your eyes.
It’s one for all and all for one
We work together, common sons
Never need to wonder how or why.
We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx
Our great computers fill the hallowed halls.
We are the Priests, of the Temples of Syrinx
All the gifts of life are held within our walls.
Look around at this world we’ve made
Equality our stock in trade
Come and join the Brotherhood of Man
Oh, what a nice, contented world
Let the banners be unfurled
Hold the Red Star proudly high at hand.
We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx
Our great computers fill the hallowed halls.
We are the Priests, of the Temples of Syrinx
All the gifts of life are held within our walls.
6:35 Tight guitar+bass+drum strikes punctuate this declaration, then a bit of classical guitar fades the song out.
III. Discovery
6:46 The trickle of a waterfall fades in, mingling with the sound of a guitar being tuned. Not the usual polished stuff of a studio album, to be sure, but there’s a protagonist being introduced and a story being told here. A resident of the futureworld of Syrinx has found a dusty guitar behind a waterfall in a cave — an object that to him is completely foreign and mysterious in its purpose. As our hero handles the strange object, he discovers that it can be made to produce sounds, even music. (“How different it could be from the music of the Temples!” he proclaims in the liner notes. “I can’t wait to tell the priests about it!” — presaging a song passage soon to come.)
8:00 The tentative exploration gives way to melody, harmonics, chords as our friend learns to play (pretty quickly I might add, but we have to listen so who’s complaining). Then strumming and the beginnings of a contemplative song as our protagonist seems to start getting the hang of it:
What can this strange device be?
When I touch it, it gives forth a sound
It’s got wires that vibrate and give music
What can this thing be that I found?
8:49 The strumming picks up into a bright, upbeat riff that dances about with the joy of discovery, then slows reflectively again as he sings:
See how it sings like a sad heart
And joyously screams out its pain
Sounds that build high like a mountain
Or notes that fall gently like rain.
9:46 A hopeful new chord progression evolves, and with it a determination to tell others of his discovery:
I can’t wait to share this new wonder
The people will all see its light
Let them all make their own music!
The Priests praise my name on this night!
IV. Presentation
10:14 Heart wide open, expecting to be greeted by nothing but enthusiasm for his miraculous new find, the unsuspecting hero of our story makes his presentation before the Priests:
I know it’s most unusual
To come before you so
But I’ve found an ancient miracle
I thought that you should know
Listen to my music
And hear what it can do
There’s something here as strong as life
I know that it will reach you.
11:10 The Priests interrupt. Instead of showing interest, they dismiss his find outright in implacable unison:
Yes, we know, it’s nothing new
It’s just a waste of time
We have no need for ancient ways
Our world is doing fine
Another toy will help destroy
The elder race of Man
Forget about your silly whim
It doesn’t fit the plan.
11:47 Incredulous, our protagonist implores the Priests to reconsider:
I can’t believe you’re saying
These things just can’t be true
Our world could use this beauty
Just think what we might do.
Listen to my music
And hear what it can do
There’s something here as strong as life
I know that it will reach you.
12:23 His pleas are again rebuffed:
Don’t annoy us further!
We have our work to do.
Just think about the average
What use have they for you?
Another toy will help destroy
The elder race of Man
Forget about your silly whim
It doesn’t fit the Plan!
And with that, the Priests’ theme picks up into a wailing guitar solo over rapid bass and drum work. It’s clear that it’s pretty much Game Over for our friend’s helpful suggestion as far as the Priests are concerned.
V. Oracle: The Dream
13:57 Dreamy far-off phased guitar strums in, as our crestfallen young man reflects on this unexpected defeat:
I wandered home though the silent streets
And fell into a fitful sleep
Escape to realms beyond the night
Dream can’t you show me the light?
14:47 Cue more far out 70s prog.-rock synth work! Then triumphant chords as the wished-for dream arrives and changes everything, conjuring hope from despair:
I stand atop a spiral stair
An oracle confirms me there
He leads me on, light years away
Through astral nights, galactic days
I see the works of gifted hands
That grace this strange and wondrous land
I see the hand of man arise
With hungry mind and open eyes
They left our planets long ago
The elder race still learn and grow
Their power grows with purpose strong
To claim the home where they belong
Home to tear the Temples down…
Home to change!
VI. Soliloquy
16:00 This has got to be one of my favorite moments on the album. Our protagonist awakens from his dream, and seems to realize with both faint hope and resigned despair that the world he lives in is not the world he was meant for, the world that could be. The “sleep is still in my eyes” meme also lays the groundwork for the album’s finale and possible moral, in the final track “Something For Nothing” (which I’ll get to in a future post).
The sleep is still in my eyes
The dream is still in my head
I heave a sigh and sadly smile
And lie a while in bed
I wish that it might come to pass
Not fade like all my dreams…
Just think of what my life might be
In a world like I have seen!
I don’t think I can carry on
Carry on this cold and empty life
My spirits are low in the depths of despair
My lifeblood…
…spills over…
VII. The Grand Finale
18:19 Even in this moment of narrative despair, the band can’t seem to resist picking it up with more rockin’ riffs. Transitioning into the a struggling, neurotic, ultimately spiraling all-out cavalry charge, they end with a climax of climbing anthemic chords, feedback-charged soloing, and explosive noise as a malevolent-sounding voice rings out as if from the sky:
Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation
Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation
Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation
We have assumed control.
We have assumed control.
We have assumed control.
Indeed.
There is plenty that can be gleaned from or said about this unusual bit of epic rock-opera. Listening it today has left me with this thought:
The United States of America is Liberty’s natural and rightful home, friends. It’s time to make our own music, in preference to accepting the vision that is being handed to us in the name of our own good. We need to start planning and preparing for the day when we can leave our state of ideological exile, and return to claim the home where we belong.
Next: A Passage to Bangkok
2112 — The Complete Album
- 2112
- A Passage to Bangkok
- The Twilight Zone
- Lessons
- Tears
- Something for Nothing
Thanks to @scooplarue at Conservative Exile for this story, which as I re-tweeted earlier today illuminates something that is vitally important for us to understand and internalize:
The Jihadists who harbor virulent hatred of the United States will continue to hate us so long as we exist, regardless of who we elect to the presidency.
Images of President-Elect Barack Obama — who has not yet taken office, and who ran for election on a platform as lacking in hostility to the interests of the Islamic world as I can imagine — are already being burned in Tehran.
See the article for the Reuters photo, and this brilliantly apropos observation:
I remember a great quote from a conservative thinker to leftist groups in the United States about the issue of Muslim rage:
“The reasons they hate your country have nothing to do with the reasons you hate your country.”
We need to understand this loud and clear, folks, or we are sunk. Despite what many continue to contend (owing to no small amount of projection, I’m sure), radical Islamists are not merely at war with the persona and policies of George W. Bush. Their fight is against the very existence and cultural values of Western Civilization, and no matter who we elect or how we modify our behavior short of completely abandoning this project in Liberty, they will not relent until the West is either destroyed or brought into Dar al-Islam, the House of Submission.
If you harbor any doubt about this, I highly recommend a perusal of JihadWatch.org, where Robert Spencer has over the years done a tremendous job of illuminating the motives and objectives of Jihadist radicals, which are very often clearly stated in their own words. (For another excellent site, see TheReligionOfPeace.com.)
My dear country, I implore you: Please wake up!
UPDATE 1/13: More pictures at the E3 Gazette.
Breitbart’s new “Big Hollywood” site appears to be off to a strong start. — I’m still trying to catch up with the initial flood of interesting articles there!
I was positively delighted to see today that Bill Whittle has joined in the action and done what he does best: written another knock-it-out-of-the-park essay that focuses the mind, stirs the soul, and pins the tail on the proverbial donkey. Remixing some elements from his brilliant Silent America essays, Bill lays bare the great peril that I believe we now face as a civilization comprised of free men and women — in this, our darkest hour of cultural self-loathing. The piece is titled “The Workshops of Identity”. By all means go read it now.
Placing our own situation in the context of the many civilizations that have risen and fallen before, Bill gets quickly to distilling the essential lesson:
One thing in common these patterns bear: the rise slow, the fall seemingly precipitous, and in every case we find the loss of nerve and strength and will comes not from the bottom, not from the common people at all, but from the rulers, the philosophers, the most affluent and educated who, in their comfort and Narcissism, abandon duty for self-absorption and self-gratification and who in boredom or self-loathing decide to fling open the gates of the city to the barbarians beyond, while the common man still stands at the walls prepared to die for the people in his charge.
And that gem of expression, my friends, is as usual just the beginning for Bill.
If you like what you see, and haven’t had the pleasure of reading Bill’s prior essays, I can’t possibly recommend them highly enough. They’re available free on his site, Eject! Eject! Eject!, as well as in print. You might start with one of my personal favorites, “Trinity”. I guarantee Bill will not disappoint. (His web server, on the other hand, has a very bad habit with reporting text encodings. If you see junk characters where punctuation should be, switch your browser’s text encoding (“View” > “Text Encoding” in Safari) over to “Western (ISO Latin 1)”, and all should be legible.)
A sampling of the many occasions on which I’ve cited Bill’s excellent work in the past (far more than I had realized until I paused to compile this list):
Update 1/15: Thanks to Scoop LaRue for the link back from Conservative Exile!
