My interpretation lines up with Memphis' pretty well,
though it's a little more concrete. I like the
object-based ritual bit. Hmmm...
Here goes.
Part I: The Making of the Song
In the beginning, I wrote the lines:
Tam take a man take a man to the woods
Tam take a man, to the woods
Dance on the rim, on the rim of a can
Dance on the rim of a wire-rimmed can
and put music to them. I think I'd been listening to
They Might Be Giants. I did this at my parent's
house, while I was living at home part-time one winter
right after college, maybe '95 or '96. If I looked
back at my notebooks, I could tell. I'm sure Memphis
knows. Whenever, that was the kernel of the song
Chimney. I may have even written the next verse at
the same time:
Tam's on the lam in the Amazon woods
Tam's on the lam in the woods
Run to the man with the ball in his hands
Run to the man with the ball-shaped hands
I think I also wrote:
Tam where's Amanda, is she in the woods?
Tam is Amanda in the woods?
because I have a good friend named Amanda. Plus, it's a partial rhyme for "a man." Amazon also works here aurally. Tam was the name of a dancer at the college we attended, who was a pretty intimidating woman. At least, I was intimidated....
Either way, I didn't much care for the song, and
more or less abandoned it.
Later, I played it for Memphis. Every so often we'd
play our newest stuff for each other. We still do,
though not as often. Usually Memphis would have a few
relatively finished songs, and while I had my share of
finished work, too, just as often it was these
coughed-up bits and smatters of music. Some of it was
truly horrible. But this one seemed to stick with
Memphis.
So he took the lyrics down, and fooled around with it for a while. He wrote the parts that really make the song - the spelling parts, and the bridge, which is one of my favorite bits of lyric writing we've ever had between the two of us. The pun on Disappearing Acts and the Acts of the Apostles is fantastic (I'll go into possible implications below), and the self-quoting is fun, yet entirely appropriate to the feel and sense of the song.
The harmonica line was originally something I'd noodled out on banjo; it was a bastardized version of the 'Intermission' theme from the film 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.'
I also remember that the slight change in rhythm in the last verse, the syncopation between "She said" and "Boy" was something that struck us as perfect, and is always fun to sing.
Memphis and I disagreed on my harmony line on "...Matthew, Mark & Jon." I tried to sing a melody whose shape was very nice, but which sounded rather dissonant. Memphis wanted a more harmonic line. (I feel like our musical disagreements often came out along these lines. Of course, now that I say that, I can't think of another instance when it happened. It's just a feeling I guess.) In this case, Memphis' opinion carried the day. I don't even remember the other line, now, so I guess he was right.
Memphis titled it.
That, then, is all I remember of the song's
genesis. Perhaps my notes would tell me more, but
they are not here.
Part II: Interpretations
I've never articulated a very concrete picture of what
this song is about, though there are several themes
and ideas which I'll examine here.
The narrator obviously has an attraction to, even
an obsession with Tam. Why? There are several
answers:
-She is graceful (so much so, she can even dance on the rim of a can, so thin it's like wire).
-She is a Bad Girl, involved with something glamorously nefarious (she's on the lam, she's hiding out in the woods, the Amazon, no less, looking for a mysterious man, possibly looking for her friend Amanda).
-She has power over him ("Boy, be a man," she commands).
-She is inconstant, appearing and disappearing at will, and he seeks, presumably, to pin her down (he is unsuccessful).
Somehow, too, he hopes to find in her answers to
his own self-doubt (he left his real self behind with
her; he knows what he will see in her -- himself; he
was an introvert before Tam had him look outside
himself; but did he look only to her? ).
Notice, too, that he does not act himself on this
desire. He tells Tam (pleads with her?) to "take a
man to the woods," that man, presumably, being
himself. Rather than ask her to go with him, he
forces the active role on her. Throughout this song
he is the object never the actor. Transcendentally,
he is nothing. He "knew someday [he'd] look in her
eyes." He doesn't actually go ahead and do it.
From the get go, this song plays with grammar, as
does so much GUH material. Praise be to the
misplaced, or indefinitely placed modifier!
"Did I ever mention in the moment that I saw her
That I knew someday I'd look in her eyes?"
Is the narrator asking whether he mentioned that
he knew it in that moment, or whether he mentioned
it in that moment that he knew it? What the
implications are I dare not contemplate for fear of
taking up too much bandwidth.
Regardless, the narrator knew he would someday
look into her eyes. Yet, as already pointed out, it
is nowhere confirmed that this indeed happens. As I
see it there are three possibilities: he could simply
be stating his desire to look into her eyes, a
desire he's had since the moment they met; it could
be that the narrator has poor judgement on these
things and finds his love unrequited; he may also
have genuinely looked into her eyes. I consider this
last the most likely.
If so, what did our hero see? Love? Contempt?
The weakening of her power over him? Let's examine
this question first...
He did not see his ignorance die. No matter
what he found, the narrator still feels a bit
embarrassed at his naivete. This casts an
uncomfortable light on the rest of the song, which may
then be read as a recounting of his foolishness.
He has, however, witnessed his IDENTITY, his "real self," disappear, "left behind" with Tam. The narrator thinks that she has emptied him, depersonalized him, and he feels abandoned and distressed. The reality is perhaps more a long these lines -- because she does not fit his mold, does not live up to his preconceptions, that he has to rethink what his real self is. This is harder work than the narrator bargained for, and he soon takes on an almost accusatory tone, especially in the bridge.
He saw himself ("I knew just what I would
see." INTRORSE = inward-growing, moving toward one's
own center), and was not surprised by it. It is an
acknowledgment that he has projected his own ideas and
desires onto this woman, Tam.
I will return to a final discussion of what the
narrator saw in Tam's eyes below. The bridge needs
first to be treated, and so we must look at the other
elements of this song, so far ignored.
On one level, the narrator is caught up in a David
Lynchian adventure, full of missing people, journeys
in a dark woods, and circus freaks ("*...the man with
the ball-shaped hands.") The narrator and Tam sit
by a mystical **fire, seeking wisdom. Be aware,
though, that the "laughing fire" in Verse Three is
also an allusion to Billy Graham, who uses it, I
believe as a metaphor for the church. (Memphis, correct
me if I'm wrong. That was your line. Either way,
it's how I have always read it.) The narrator, then,
has been not on a quest for mere physical
companionship, but on a journey toward Christian
spiritual fulfillment.
This is not to be, not in the company of Tam. She is interested in no such thing. She "disappears," leaving his stranded, at least emotionally. He knows that this is the wrong path to spiritual growth. If it will be done through the church, it will not be with Tam alongside. Yet, the narrator is unable to take this philosophically. Someone must take the blame for his wasted time and effort.
Thus the bridge. Tam has taken herself away. This tears away all the fantasies and dreams he had foisted upon her, along with the solace of the church, which had seemed tantalizingly near. The little world he mistakenly thought he could construct is ruined. All that's left is the crumbling Chimney of the gingerbread (or perhaps hash-laced brownie; she is a Bad Girl) house that he built in his own mind.
Notice again, that he puts the blame on Tam's
shoulders, never on his own poor judgement. If there
is irony in his voice, if he is indeed talking to
himself as well as Tam, it is buried deep. He even
arrogantly accuses her of being ignorant herself.
("***Do you think you'll find the woods when you walk
across this bridge?")
Till now, the narrator has said little, and done
less, to redeem himself. So, what else did the
narrator see in Tam's eyes? He sees, finally, that he
is maturing, if only a little.
The narrator was once an introvert, but not any more. Tam has made him grow up. She left him no choice but to come out of his self-absorption and join the world. Exasperated at his lack of will, she orders him into the spotlight. Up onto the can where he once saw her dancing. This is a painful process for him; he's got neither the grace nor the talent to dance on the thin rim of that can. However, he has grown enough that he can at least walk that line. Hard work, but he is beginning to believe it was worth it.
The extent of Tam's effect on him is evident in
the recurrence on the harmonica line in the Outro.
Melodically it is identical to the Intro, but the
up-tempo symbolizes his new, more optimistic outlook.
He has not changed fundamentally, perhaps, but has
taken a few small steps.
*The ball, somehow having fused with the man's hands.
The ball, by the way, is nearly a royal blue, made of
plastic, and is not quite the size of a volleyball.
Both hands have melded and melted to it. Of this I am
sure. (return to essay body)
**Somewhere in the back of my mind, I've always thought that the fire was attended to by the Old Man from Zo Bid. (return to essay body)
***Another pun. Will I find what I'm looking for at the end of this song, on the other side of the musical bridge? (return to essay body)
Memphis Evans' Essay About Chimney
Scot Ninnemann's Essay About Chimney