Big Burned Hand by Iron & Wine:
Aphrodite, Ares, and the poor slob
stuck in the middle
"Mars Disarmed" - By Jacques-Louis David (that is "Ares Disarmed")
Aphrodite was the goddess of love, Ares was the god of war. They were lovers. Probably because neither one makes any sense at all. Theirs is a famously stormy relationship.
I’ve been reading Greek mythology lately.
I don’t do this often, it’s just that I happened upon a book that intrigued me. Written by English actor Stephen Fry (whom I recall most from his playing of Mycroft Holmes in the 2011 movie), it is a retelling of many of the stories, but in a sort of chronological order and while drawing connections between them, and with Fry’s dry comedic wit.
The book is a lot of fun, easy night time reading, and it does that thing that art is really supposed to do: it takes a story you’ve known for ages, and breathes new interest into it. It causes you to think anew, to feel anew.
I mean all the stories are here already, right? And we’ve known them our whole lives: boy meets girl, hero beats menace, underdog wins, power corrupts, yada yada yada . . . .
But they’re all still here because they matter. They are the stories of - us.
All this Greek drama put me in mind
of a song - -
predictably.
The song is Big Burned Hand by Iron and Wine, written by Sam Beam.
Even if you are a fan, even if you have heard the song, I’d bet you never noticed how it is entirely based on this mythological tale. Beam never mentions the gods by name, only by deliberate reference. And he inserts himself into the tale - bringing the autobiographical touch so often used in singer-songwriter material.
One thing I love about this song is that he tells his story almost entirely with metaphors, he throws them into every line with no elaboration, and jumbled together like stones, like the emotions and events one may experience in a stormy romance.
But it is all purposeful and directed and therefore the song holds together, it makes sense as a whole.
When the arrogant goddess of love came to steal my shoes
she had a white-hot pistol and a homemade heart tattoo.
What a great opening line!
Aphrodite is not usually labeled arrogant, but . . . . we get it, she’s used to attention and getting her way. Don’t worry about what Sam’s shoes are nor why she wants them: she has taken from him. And she has done so very messily with her weird gun and treacherous skin art.
Singing "One's to give and one's to take away
but neither of them will keep you off your knees."
Her children bowed and bolted off the stage.
While the lion and the lamb kept fighting for the shade tree.
The next stanza elaborates a bit and then does something pretty ingenious:
The last line about the lion and the lamb is a clear use of a feature of the old Greek drama tradition: the choir comments upon the action which has just taken place.
The “lion and the lamb” are obviously the goddess and god themselves.
Now - I’m all for simple direct songs about your truck, dancing at the hop, and moon/spoon/june - but man I love it when a songwriter sticks some really high end shit in there and just sits back and waits to see if you get it.
Well played, Sam Beam!
🦁 🐑
When the winsome god of war came to set me free
he had a couple of Coke bottles full of gasoline.
Ares shows up. And narratively I presume that Sam is fighting back, powering through whatever passions have caused him to lose his shoes. And he seems to be thankful, calling the god of war ‘winsome’. And the reference to Molotov cocktails keeps with the theme of - this is gonna be messy.
Singing "All I love is all that I allow."
And he blew me a kiss off a big burned hand.
I nearly choked with smoke and fell down.
While the lion and the lamb kept shooting at a tin can.
The story goes.
And Sam gets the title for his song.
🦁 🐑
When the gun-shy goddess of love came back to patch things up
she had a Purple Heart and mother's milk in a plastic cup.
Singing "One's to lay you gently in the grave
and one's the flag you fold before you go."
When the curtain rose the crowd was blown away.
While the lion and the lamb kept fucking in the back row.
So even Aphrodite herself knows when to back off. The metaphors keep flying and the goddess seems to give ground, but we know she has not - nor will she ever - retreat or yield. And then those crazy kids are back at it again.
I love this song. Whenever it pops on my speakers I belt it out loudly. And while my discussion has been literary here’s some about the music.
The groove is very odd. It starts with a big, full-band hit. And then the general groove and beat of the song is just off kilter, even though the tempo is steady and everyone is together rhythmically, it feels a bit sideways.
Almost as if the whole band has been knocked for a loop by the passions of the goddess of love.
The two-line stanzas:
“When the goddess ….”
“When the god ….”
“When the goddess ….”
are all sung in higher pitches, with long-ish sustained notes. Dramatic and declamatory.
But then the four-line stanzas all feature lower, quicker notes. And the chords change, and do so more quickly. The choir’s commentary ends and then . . . .
The listener at this point could use a moment to reflect, try to figure out what’s going on, or just bask in the colorful story unfolding. Perfect time for an instrumental solo.
This, my dudes, is how it’s done!
The song hits up front in a really cool way, and you can just plain listen to it and be perfectly happy.
But it also rewards deeper looking, listening, thinking, and feeling. Again, this is what art is for. It’s all fun and shiny, but when you peel back the layers it keeps giving, and giving.
Enjoy!
Note: in the first verse the lyric is “HER children bowed”. You cannot hear it on the album recording, but I found a live version where he clearly says ‘her’. Funny enough I went through four - count ‘em four - live performances in which he completely messed up the lyrics there! Said stuff like “the curtain bowed” etc. A wonderfully human amusing moment ;-)
articles premier in Songdog Newsletter, GET ALL MY NEWSLETTERS!