Part of the Band
It is a song I feel like I have always known. I don’t remember when I heard it for the first time, I just can’t remember a time where I didn’t know it. It sounds like something my parents used to play in the car. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? That folk rock sound is just nostalgic in essence — warm tones, a slow instrumental build. Lyrics that tell a story.
It is a story seldom told in the way the songwriter chooses to narrate. It is a story about a man who represents everyone. A young boy who leaves his family and is besieged by the cruelties of the real world: a world that neglects the poor, the ragged, the lonesome. A world that isolates the destitute into the decaying corners of society. A world that sneers as they squander words of resistance to the ears of the indifferent. If they choose to challenge society, they are met with vicious judgment, so harsh that it urges most to drop their firsts in fatalistic surrender.
Those who manage to triumph over society's corrupt restraints face the wrath of the human psyche. A life of self-scrutiny, left to persistently question if they will ever truly escape the burdens of their past. They will ruminate on their struggles until they are all consuming, and devote their lives to uncovering how others see them. To discover if their victory against society was powerful enough to shift the perspectives of others. They will never truly acclimate because they will never forget the apathy of society. And people will always believe what they want to believe.
Is the man victorious? At the end of the song, does he surmount his fight? Is it possible to win in a fight against yourself? Considering himself from an outsider’s perspective might signify that he has conquered his past. Or, it could represent his inability to move on, that the fighter still remains somewhere deep within him, ready to defend against the ruthlessness of reality when called upon.
Of course I don’t know if any of this is true, but it doesn’t really matter what the artist intended to convey. Regardless of intention, a listener will choose to hear what they want to hear and disregard the rest. They might share the artist’s outlook, but that too would be their choice. What is the point of art with intention if people are always led by their own perspectives?
I recognize that this is quite a pessimistic view of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Boxer.” Some might understand the lyrics differently, a man’s valiant resistance against a world that rooted for his downfall. A representation of resilience in the face of misfortune. Again, it really doesn’t matter. If an artist tells a story, every listener will retell it differently. Did you notice that I wasn’t analyzing “Part of the Band,” or was the title enough to dissuade you from questioning my perspective? We expect to interpret things differently than others. We are prepared to form personal interpretations. If artists are aware of this, what is the value of intention? Why qualify a song if its meaning will undoubtedly change?
Throughout their careers, both Paul Simon and Matty Healy have addressed this artistic concern. I could paraphrase, but that would be inauthentic.
Paul Simon on the iconic “lie-la-lie” refrain:
“I didn't have any words! Then people said it was 'lie' but I didn't really mean that. That it was a lie. But, it's not a failure of songwriting, because people like that and they put enough meaning into it, and the rest of the song has enough power and emotion, I guess, to make it go, so it's all right. But for me, every time I sing that part... [softly], I'm a little embarrassed.”
Matty Healy on writing “Part of the Band”:
“I really just trusted my instinct. As a narrative, I don’t know what the song is about. It was just this belief that I could talk, and that was OK, and it made sense, and I didn’t have to qualify it that much. I have a friend who is much more articulate than me, and there’s been so many times that he’s explained my lyrics back to me better than I ever could. So, I’ve learned I can sit there and spend five hours articulating what I mean, but I don’t think I need to. A movie doesn’t start by explaining what’s going to happen; it opens on a conversation, and you get what’s going on straight away.
Healy said it himself, he didn’t have to qualify. He relinquished control to his listeners. Fuck it, he said. I’ll tell my story and they can retell it however they want. Music is subjective, up to the interpretation of the listener. And every song is really just a cover of another song. A culmination of inspiration and experiences that manifests in a new way. Kind of like this project.