I’m so vain, I sort of think his songs are about me.
I fondly remember the excitement music used to give me as a teenager, when I was able to find some sort of personal connection to every song I heard; songs about love and not fitting in and how brilliant it was to be young and alive. It takes a special brand of narcissism that only teenagers possess to feel like every artist you listened to is directly speaking to your soul. Then I grew up and realized that the songs I related to on such a visceral level were mass marketing to teen angst in general.
When I first discovered Frank Turner a couple of years ago (thanks Pandora!) I felt that same sense of this-might-be-about-me. It had been a while since I’d heard new music I felt so connected to. And it wasn’t just one song, it was like Turner was in fact, living in my brain when he wrote a good chunk of his catalogue.
If you’re unfamiliar, Frank Turner is a British singer/songwriter who largely plays acoustic music in the style of what’s termed “folk/punk” (I’m not sure what that means either). Turner covers topics like love and frustration and job satisfaction and the idiosyncrasies involved in aging. He writes about a more specific and complex angst, the sort of angst that can’t be encapsulated by a Dashboard Confessional lyric filled AIM away message. It’s the angst of navigating your post-collegiate twenties, but he also writes about not dwelling too much on that angst, happy times and hangovers.
Below you’ll find the top ten Frank Turner songs that at 27, I still believe may have been written with me in mind. And I get it, if I were say a character in a Carly Simon song I’d be walking into a party like it was a yacht and wearing weird colored scarves but doesn’t the best music make you vain? It makes you feel as if you have that personal connection, and at least for me, then transports me back to the days when I feel in love with music in the first place. Now I’m rambling and crossing musical genres so before we get too confusing, back to Turner and his tunes:
“Wessex Boy” is about coming back to your hometown as an adult. While the landscape may have changed and the friends who used to populate it might be gone, it still always can’t help but feel like home.
“Recovery.” Bacchanalian might be the perfect word to describe my college existence. Fun as is it was, I can’t live like that anymore and mostly I’m ok with that. I saw Frank Turner this spring at the Chameleon Club in Lancaster and he gave a little spiel before this song.
He mentioned, and be aware that I’m paraphrasing here, that when he was younger he used to love to go out and get shitfaced and he still does like a good drink or two but realizes that the recovery process is now longer and that he finds himself much more cognizant of not only having a good time, but taking care of himself as well. He’s even become one of those guys who take yoga. I just bought a yoga mat! We might be the same people.
“Photosynthesis” is my favorite Frank Turner song. To me, it’s about being in the weird limbo between being a “college kid” and full-fledged adult, with Turner penning lyrics like, “All the kids are talking slang, I won’t pretend to understand, All my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans.”
Coincidentally we wrote it when he was 27.
It’s also about finding out what you want to do and not rushing to fit anyone else’s mold of what a “grown-up” really is.
All your friends and peers, and family solemnly tell you, you will, have to grow up, be an adult, be bored and unfulfilled.
But no one’s yet explained to me, exactly what’s so great, about slaving 50 years away on something that you hate. About meekly shuffling down the path of mediocrity, well, if that’s your road then take it, but it’s not the road for me.
I won’t sit down, and I won’t shut up, but most of all I won’t grow up.
“I Still Believe.” Here, Frank urges us that while our musical tastes may evolve, keep believing in music, no matter how old you get. For some of us music is a sort of lifeblood.
And I still believe, in the need
For guitars and drums and desperate poetry
I still believe, that everyone
Can find a song for every time they’ve lost
And every time they’ve wonSo just remember, folks
We’re not just saving lives,
We’re saving souls,
And we’re having fun.
“Live Fast, Die Old.” It’s clear by the title alone that “Life Fast, Die Old” is the anti-YOLO of songs. It throws the “you only live once, so f**k it YOLO” and “life fast die fun” mentalities out the window and says hey, you could still have fun and do stupid stuff and really live while avoiding recklessness and stupidity.
“The Real Damage” is the best and most authentic hangover song I’ve ever heard. The narrator of the song wakes up in a strange house surrounded by, “sleeping folks I did not know.” While I’ve never had that experience, I can relate to the roller coaster ride that the chemical imbalance of a hangover can take you on. As he walks down the street he muses how, “he’s halfway through the best years of his life,” wallowing in the self-pity drinking too much causes. He even throws out some nice details reflecting those of us who grew up in the technology age, longing not just for a shower and clean sheets, but a charger for his phone.
By the time he gets home, he’s feeling a bit better and instead of focusing on being halfway through his life he realizes he’s only halfway through the first day of the week. It’s perfect.
“Reasons Not to Be an Idiot” essentially tells us to get out of our self-absorbed bullshit and realize that our problems are not special.
Everybody has problems, but not everyone lets those problems dictate their lives. It’s some solid advice.
You’re not as messed up as you think you are,
Your self-absorption makes you messier.
“If I Ever Stray” falls in the same vein of realizing that despite some hard knocks, life in general is good. Don’t forget that. Turner reminds us that, “love is free and life is cheap, and as long as I’ve got me a place to sleep, clothes on my back and some food to eat, I can’t ask for anything more,” and implores his friends to read him the riot act if he ever forgets that.
“We Shall Not Overcome” to me is about liking what you like and doing what you want to do and not really caring what others think about it. This is the number one thing I learned post grad
The bands I like, they don’t sell too many records
And the girls I like, they don’t kiss too many boys
Books I read will never be best sellers, yeah
But come on fellas, at least we made our choice.Because the bands I like, they don’t sell too many records
And the girls I like, they don’t kiss too many boys
Books I read will never be best sellers, yeah
But come on fellas at least we made our choice.
“The Ballad of Me and My Friends.” I’ve written before how I feel far too many songs revolve around personal issues or romantic entanglements and don’t focus enough on friendships. So from the get-go the title is great. Who doesn’t want a ballad, or an anthem, for their group of friends?
I remember graduating college and having people say things like, “cherish these times because in a year or two everyone will start settling down and you’ll lose touch with these guys; no one will have time for fun.” I went to my five year reunion this past summer and it didn’t feel so much like a reunion because we’ve all made the effort to get together. It’s not as often as I might want and it requires some heavy duty scheduling but every two months of so a new, very bacchanalian memory is made. Just because we’re older with careers and more responsibility, doesn’t mean we can’t still raise some hell.
As Turner so aptly puts it, “And we’re definitely going to hell, But we’ll have all the best stories to tell,” which is a great line on which to end this list.
photo dichohecho / Flickr
Strong Choices!! I Still Believe & Photosynthesis are among my top 2 FT tunes!
I would also give “Peggy Sang The Blues”, “Long Live The Queen” & “I Knew Prufrock…” as must listens
I enjoy your work. Keep it up!