This Is How I Really Feel: A Response To Courtney Barnett
“Beauty brings copies of itself into being...Sometimes it gives rise to exact replication and other times to resemblances and still other times to things whose connection to the original site of inspiration is unrecognizable” (Scarry 3).
In On Beauty and Being Just, Elaine Scarry continues to explain the many ways that a beautiful thing can be replicated, and notes that the original beautiful thing is not always replicated in its original medium. This essay is such a replication of Courtney Barnett’s 2018 record Tell Me How You Really Feel, in that its beauty compelled me to bring a copy of it into being in a different medium. T his replication of Barnett’s album explores a more complex relationship that music can have with individual listeners.
The wide variety in backgrounds and lived experiences of each individual informs their personal artistic taste. In This Is Your Brain On Music, Daniel Levatin names these qualities as a person’s “cognitive schemas,” stating:
"In a sense, schemas are everything. They frame our understanding; they’re the system into which we place the elements and interpretations of an aesthetic object. Schemas inform our cognitive models and expectations ...The schema frames our perception, our cognitive processing, and ultimately our experience" (234-235).
The inherent subjectivity of the artistic process combined with the uniqueness of an audience member’s schemas means that a piece of art can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways. Sir Roland Barthes makes the same point in the essay Death of the Author within the book Image Music Text:
"Once the Author is removed, the claim to decipher a text becomes quite futile. To give a text an Author is to impose a limit on that text, to furnish it with a final signified, to close the writing. Such a conception suits criticism very well, the latter then allotting itself the important task of discovering the Author (or its hypostases: society, history, psyche, liberty) behind the work: when the Author has been found, the text is ‘explained’ - victory to the critic" (147).
This essay is, then, not a criticism. It is a replication. As a member of Barnett’s audience, I question the interpretation I have made on my own accord, because of the way the album interacts with my own personal schemas.
I came into contact with this album entirely due to the marketing algorithm used by internet streaming services. The use of algorithms in the circulation of music is particularly interesting because it determines the music people are exposed to on a daily basis. Most public places use music streaming services to play music for their customers. This practice is not remotely new and has been in place since the 1920s with the introduction of the “continuous recorded music that is played in stores, restaurants, airports, etc.” called Muzak (Oxford Learners Dictionary). Muzak is a “non-reflective musical experience” in that it is written to largely be ignored and “…[fill] in the gaps while simultaneously provid[ing] a basis for casual conversation to take place” (Radano 453, 456). Although used for the same purpose, streaming services like Spotify and Pandora do not provide such a “non-reflective musical experience,” but a reflective one (Radano, 453). The music they play is not written to be ignored, but to be actively listened to.
The music we are either voluntarily or involuntarily absorbing and repeating to ourselves on a daily basis can have a significant impact on our psyches. Daniel Levatin writes:
"We allow [popular musicians] to control our emotions and even our politics- to lift us
up, to bring us down, to comfort us, to inspire us. We let them into our living rooms and bedrooms when no one else is around. We let them into our ears directly, through earbuds and headphones, when we’re not communicating with anybody else in the world" (243).
So what happens if the music that is played on repeat is depressing or written from is influenced by prejudice? Negative, repetitive thoughts can induce depressive rumination which “involves recurrent, passive thoughts about one’s distress and the circumstances contributing to it…and has been found to contribute to a range of clinical problems including depression, anxiety, binge eating, binge drinking, and self-harm” (Feldman 1002). The culmination of the studies done by Feldman “suggest that interventions designed to cultivate mindfulness and acceptance may alter the way that individuals respond to negative thoughts and emotions, and potentially render them less upsetting” (Feldman 1009). If the music we are exposed to perpetuates negative thoughts and feelings, it can be harmful and even dangerous to society.
Alternatively, should the messages conveyed in popular music be inspiring and empowering, it might positively influence our moods and thoughts. Tell Me How You Really Feel is an example of popular music that encourages positive thinking and can elevate the listener’s mood. Its captivating musical composition combines with the affirming language in its lyrics to create a safe space wherein its listeners can be vulnerable with themselves and the music.
Courtney Barnett uses what is colloquially known as the “narrative arc” or “Freytag’s Pyramid” throughout the album to frame her work in a way that the audience can easily relate to. This concept is most common in arts that involve storytelling such as theatre, film, and literature, and finds its origin in Freytag’s Technique of the Drama:
"Through the two halves of the action which come closely together at one point, the drama possesses- if one may symbolize its arrangement by lines- a pyramidal structure. It rises from the introduction with the entrance of the exciting forces to the climax, and falls from here to the catastrophe. Between these three parts lie (the parts of) the rise and the fall. Each of these five parts my consist of a single scene, or a succession of connected scenes, but the climax is usually composed of one chief scene. These parts of the drama [are] (a) introduction, (b) rise, (c) climax, (d) return or fall, (e) catastrophe." (114-115)
As this text has been highly analyzed and re-constructed throughout time, the five structural elements that together create Freytag’s Pyramid are also commonly known as exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, a nd denouement. I will use Freytag’s original vocabulary in this essay when referring to Freytag’s Pyramid.
In Tell Me How You Really Feel, Barnett employs Freytag’s Pyramid to illustrate an emotional narrative. Each song in the album correlates with a particular event in Freytag’s Pyramid, and together creates a safe and relatable emotional journey for the listeners. Elements of musical composition and lyric structure individually support each song’s positionality in Freytag’s Pyramid to achieve a level of relatability necessary for the audience to absorb the affirming and validating themes in the album.
Contextual Analysis
Hopefulessness Yknow what they say No one’s born to hate We learn it somewhere along the wayI Take your broken heart Turn it into artI Can’t take it with you, can’t take it with youIV (I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna know)II Empty bottle blues Sleepin’ different rooms Hardly a maverick Lesser than averageII Your vulnerability is stronger than it seems Yknow it’s okay to have a bad dayIII (I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna know)II Just get this one done, then you can move alongIII Can’t take it with you, can’t take it with youIV Yknow what they say, no one’s born to hateI Getting louder now, getting louder now
This song represents beginning; the beginning of the album, the beginning of a day. In terms of Freytag’s Pyramid, this song expertly functions as the introduction of the album’s emotional journey. Before Barnett’s voice enters, the music is low, slow, droning, and rubato. Before beginning to sing, Barnett gives a slight yawn, which conveys the feeling of waking up. The instrumentation slowly builds momentum after the first verse. Other than her voice, the guitar is the only instrument that changes notes until the transition into the second verse. As the song builds into the climax near the end, Barnett layers one guitar over another using two electric guitars, two acoustic guitars, and a bass guitar to provide ornamentation. Although the guitars of the same type are often playing in unison, the production choice of layering them provides a depth of sound than would not exist otherwise. The instruments continue to layer on top of one another, building energy as they progress. As the energy intensifies at the beginning of the last chorus, there is a faint whistling of a kettle that gets lost as the energy continues to escalate. The energy crests immediately before it gently falls, leaving the listener with the same droning guitars from the beginning of the song. The listener will again notice the sound of the kettle’s whistle until it is taken off of the burner at the song’s conclusion. The presence of the kettle’s whistle further underlines the song’s positionality as the introduction of the album because it can be associated with the making of tea or coffee at the beginning of someone’s day.
There are two clear tones Barnett fluctuates between in the lyrics of this song. The first tone is observational, instructional, and encouraging, and is marked by its usage of the pronouns “you” and “we”. This tone is reminiscent of a caring relative, friend, or therapist who encourages self care, providing a series of positive affirmations and healthy, emotionally grounding remindersI. The majority of this song is written in this first tone. The second lyrical tone is represented by a first-person expression of a feelingII, and is marked by the usage of the personal pronoun “I”. The relationship between these two tones as they oscillate throughout the song is clearly marked by the changes in pronoun usage. As all the lyrics are sung with the same voice, the relationship between the two tones can be interpreted as a commentary on cognitive dissonance and inner emotional conflict. The fluctuation between tones as part of the introduction mirrors the emotional battle present at the beginning of each day, illustrating the struggle to remain open and optimistic even through the presence of both trivialIII and existentialIV anxieties. Barnett’s honesty in her lyrics provides relatable and grounding emotional guidance for her listeners to meditate on when anxieties strike.
The positionality of this song as the introduction in Freytag’s Pyramid provides foreshadowing to the tones and conflicts present throughout the rest of the album. The implementation of Freytag’s Pyramid as the main structural element of the album is key to the album’s overall relatability. The familiar structure of Freytag’s Pyramid makes it easier for listeners to emotionally absorb the concepts laid out in the album. The profound honesty that is present in Barnett’s lyrics is beautifully underlined by the composition, weaving together to create a piece with resounding emotional depth.
City Looks Pretty The city looks pretty when you been indoors For 23 days I’ve ignored all your phone calls. Everyone’s waiting when you get back home They don’t know where you been, why you gone so long. Friends treat you like a stranger and Strangers treat you like their best friend, oh well Spare a thought for the ones that came before All in a daze bending backwards to reach your goal. Sometimes I get sad It’s not all that bad One day, maybe never I’ll come around. The city takes pity on your injured soul N heavenly prose ain’t enough good to fill that hole. Everyone’s soaked in animosity It’s vicious in winter, you never say what you mean. Friends treat you like a stranger and Strangers treat you like their best friend, oh well. Wakin’ up to another dismal day You got a ways to go, you oughta be grateful. Sometimes I get mad It’s not half as bad Pull yourself together N just calm down. I’ll be what you want oh when you want it But I’ll never be what you need And the city looks pretty from where I’m standing...
In terms of Freytag’s Pyramid, City Looks Pretty is a continuation of the introduction that Hopefulessness i nitiated. City Looks Pretty begins with more momentum than the previous song’s end, creating a transitional flow between the two sections of introduction. Throughout the song, Barnett sings with more presence than she sings Hopefulessness. Barnett’s voice has qualities similar to her writing style; slightly reserved, but incredibly expressive. The shift in vocal richness between these two songs helps illustrate City Looks Pretty as the part of a day immediately after the initial stages of waking when the day’s events begin. During the sung portions of the verses, the bass line consists of two notes that are only one whole step apart, and this bass line easily fits in with the rest of the sound. At the end of each sung couplet in the verses, there is an instrumental section that trades Barnett’s voice as lead for a distorted lead guitar. The bass lines in the chorus as well as the instrumental section as described above mirror each other in terms of melodic movement. Each note in every bass line, excluding that of the last stanza, is a rhythmic eighth note. The rhythmic consistency in the bass line throughout the song creates a cohesiveness in the song’s momentum. The rhythm of the bass line only changes at the end of the song, immediately before the last stanza, and this new rhythm lasts throughout the rest of the song. This rhythmic shift in the bass line is accompanied by an overall tonal shift, beginning a new section of song. Interestingly, this shift lies at about the halfway point of the song’s length of time, but the stanza that accompanies this second section is a mere 3 lines. The second section of the song builds momentum near the end with Barnett’s guitar playing at the lead. The energy built at the end of this song easily flows into the next song Charity. The shift in momentum and in vocal richness between Hopefulessness a nd City Looks Pretty work together to solidify City Looks Pretty’s positionality as the second half of the introduction in terms of Freytag’s Pyramid.
Barnett’s use of synthesizers and pianos tend to stick out in her compositions, and City Looks Pretty is no exception. During the chorus of this song as well as in the last stanza, Barnett uses a synthesizer to help the rest of the instruments establish a wash of sound. The use of this synthesizer feels melodically out of place. It is both two and three octaves above the top of Barnett’s vocal register as well as the register most often used by her guitar, leaving the listener with a wide gap in registration. The synthesizer’s timbre is starkly different than that of Barnett’s other instruments. In some cases, this can be refreshing, but the gap in registration here plus the stark contrast of its timbre is actually quite jarring to the listener. However, the synthesizer is the only instrument the listener can hear at the point of transition between the song’s two sections, which provides instrumental consistency.
City Looks Pretty is written entirely in first person perspective. The speaker expresses a struggle between seeking peace and feelings of insecurity. The struggle to seek peace expressed in City Looks Pretty i s similar to the struggle expressed in Hopefulessness, but the two songs differ in their execution. Hopefulessness expresses this struggle in more abstract terms, whereas City Looks Pretty e xpresses this struggle as a narrative using first person perspective. In the same way that Hopefulessness i ntroduces the listener to the tone of the album, City Looks Pretty introduces a story and setting. Together, the two songs create a detailed exposition and full introduction. The use of first-person perspective in City Looks Pretty lends itself directly to the overall relatability of the album, and provides a context for the rest of the album as a narrative.
Charity At the end of every season I’m spent up Keep thinking this will be the one. Hesitation lingers till I’m unreasonable As if you care, I know you got your own stuff going onI You must be having so much fun Everything’s amazingII So subservient I make myself sick Are you listening?I, II Can’t we talk about it once we’ve slept? When can we, yeah can we, work it out? Meditation just makes you more strung out I wish you had a guru to tell you to let it go, let it goI You must be having so much fun Everything’s amazingII So subservient I make myself sick Are you listening?I, II You don’t have to pretend you’re not scared Everyone else is just as terrified as you. Medication just makes you more upset I bet you got a lot to prove I know you’re still the sameI You must be having so much fun Everything’s amazingII So subservient I make myself sick Are you listening?I, II
Charity acts as the exciting force of the album in terms of Freytag’s Pyramid. The exciting force is categorized as one of three Crises that can exist between the five main Parts of the Drama in Freytag’s Pyramid (115). The crisis referred to as the exciting force “indicates the beginning of the stirring action, stand[ing] between the introduction and the rise” (115). The exciting force “occurs at a point where…there arises a feeling or volition which becomes the occasion of what follows” (121). Barnett achieves this feeling by using melodic tension and lyrical sarcasm.
Charity starts abruptly with no warning or transition flowing from the previous song. This initial abruptness is fitting for its position as the exciting force because it helps convey the tension that is characteristic of the exciting force. The guitar immediately introduces the primary melodic theme of this song and maintains its role as lead instrument throughout. This melodic theme and its variations are also found within Barnett’s singing in each verse. The interplay between the guitar and Barnett’s voice creates an interesting tension in instrumentation. Between each stanzaI there are two bars of instrumentation that heavily contrast with the instrumentation in the preceding stanza, using chromaticism and dissonance to create tension. In addition to the tense transitions between stanzas, there is a rolling, distorted guitar with a meter change from 4/4 to 2/2 at the end of the second and fourth line of each chorus stanzaII. These melodic and rhythmic transitions are consistent throughout the whole song and provide cohesiveness. As these transitions are dissonant and tense, the whole song carries their tension.
Like City Looks Pretty, Charity is written in first person perspective. The continuity in lyrical perspective between these two songs suggests that the speaker of both songs are the same person. As City Looks Pretty i ntroduces the speaker and their inner conflicts, Charity outlines in more detail that same speaker’s frustrations.
Need A Little Time I don’t know a lot about you but You seem to know a lot about me so I take a little time out, I take a little time out I’m sorry that I lost my patience You deserve better it’s true I need a little time out I need a little time out From me And youI Open up your insides show us Your inner most lecherous I’ll rip it out carefully I promise you won’t feel a thing Everybody wants to have their say Forever waiting for some car crash I need a little time out I need a little time out From me And youI II Shave your head to see how it feels Emotionally it’s not that different But to the hand it’s beautiful (Yeah to the hand it’s beautiful) You seem to have the weight of the world Upon your bony shoulders well hold on You need a little time out You need a little time out From you And meI
Need A Little Time is the first half of the Rise in terms of Freytag’s pyramid. The subsequent song Nameless, Faceless completes the rise. The last two lines of stanzas 2, 4, and 6 take the place of a conventional chorus by instead implementing a short melodic hook that provides much of the song’s tension. Need A Little Time inhabits a fairly mellow energy that is contrasted by the end of stanzas 2, 4, and 6 where Barnett repeatedly sings the last word of that stanzaI . The short instrumental break between stanzas 5 and 6 raises the energy level and leads to stanza 6II. The song closes with another instrumental section after the last stanza that mirrors the previous instrumental sectionII in terms of tension and melodic theme. Both instrumental sections provide tension and most importantly foreshadow the completion of the rise in the next song. Need A Little Time ends without resolving the melodic tension, leaving the song open ended and providing a clear transition to Nameless, Faceless.
Need A Little Time is the third song written entirely in first person perspective. In contrast to Charity, the speaker is directly addressing another person rather than only expressing certain emotions. The nominal phrase Need A Little Time is repeated throughout the song and always refers to the action of removing oneself from a situation that causes frustration or anger. The speaker has a very healthy perspective on how to resolve conflict because they recognize the necessity for both parties to take space when there is tension between them in order to avoid potentially unhealthy interactions. By repeating the last word in stanzas 2, 4, and 6 during the height of melodic tension in the hook, Barnett is foreshadowing the possible negative energy that could arise should each person not take time away from the situation.
Interpersonal conflict is universal, but the decision to take the space one needs to approach a situation with open-mindedness is not normalized in our society. In fact, parochial emotional catharsis is more normalized through most music than the process of taking care of oneself and others. It is important for an emotionally healthy approach to conflict resolution to be depicted in such relatable detail. With Need A Little Time, Barnett provides a platform for understanding productive conflict resolution.
Nameless, Faceless Don’t you have anything better to do I wish that someone would hug you Must be lonely Being angry Feeling over-looked.I You sit alone at home in the darkness With all the pent-up rage that you harness I’m real sorry Bout whatever happened to you I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark Women are scared that men will kill them I hold my keys Between my fingers II He said “I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup And spit out better words than you” But you didn’t Man you’re kidding yourself if you think The world revolves around you Yknow you got lots to give N so many options I’m real sorry Bout whatever happened to you I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark \Women are scared that men will kill them II I hold my keys Between my fingers Go on tell me You’re just kidding He said, she said Nameless, facelessII
Nameless, Faceless is the second half of the rise as initiated in Need A Little Time. This song certainly contains the most intense energy of the album so far. The intensity is namely present in the choruses and is most notably marked by the shift from the Major key of the verses to the minor key of the choruses. Another clear indication of the musical intensity of the choruses is the rhythmic transitions between the verses and choruses. In the verses, all of the instruments accent different parts of the rhythm to create a clear rhythmic idea that takes a back seat to the melody. Immediately after each verse, all of the instruments begin playing in rhythmic unison, bringing the listener’s attention to the pulse rather than melody. The choruses continue this rhythmic unison with a more complex rhythmic pattern, using the drums’ ornamentation and fills to enhance the energy. This rhythmic technique paired with the use of vocal distortion that is unique to the choruses work together to complete the rise of the album by raising the energy and foreshadowing the climax.
Another song written in first-person perspective, Nameless, Faceless reveals sexism as the underlying source of anger and insecurity as referenced by the speaker throughout the entire album. The juxtaposition between the scathing lyrics and bouncy melody during the verses of this song conveys a tone of condescension from the speaker that implies their anger. This is represented in most of the song and can be seen specifically in the first few linesI. The choruses clearly imply that the anger is directed toward sexist menII. The choruses compare the fears of both men and women, and clearly demonstrate the difference in stakes between a woman’s fears and a man’s. A woman’s fear is higher stakes than a man’s because this fear is death at the hands of a man, whereas a man’s fear is humiliation at the hands of a woman. This is just one example of the overwhelming injustices women face, and the speaker seems to indeed be overwhelmed with the emotions associated with such injustices. The intensity of the end of each chorus as well as at the end of the song seamlessly leads to the climax of the next song.
I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch I hear you mutter, under your breath Put up or shut up, it’s all the same It’s all the same, never change, never change I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch d-did I stutter, a little bit sit down n shut up, it’s all the same it’s all the same, never change, never change I get most self-defensive When I know I’m wrong Think we all can agree I try my best to be patient But I can only put up with so much shit I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch I hear you mutter, under your breath Put up or shut up, it’s all the same It’s all the same, never change, never change
I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch is clearly the climax of the album in terms of Freytag’s Pyramid. Freytag defines climax as “the place in the piece where the results of the rising movement come out strong and decisively” (128). The drastic contrast in instrumentation between this song and the rest of the album supports Freytag’s definition of climax. The distorted guitar at the onset of this song is unsettling and dissonant, and it parallels the anger that slowly increases in Barnett’s voice. The song immediately accelerates into a dark chord progression that is ripe with distortion. The chord progression is well underlined by a bass line that provides much of the movement in the composition. The guitars that accompany the bass line follow a fairly simple rhythmic pattern and fluctuate between only two chords. Barnett does not sing a single note in this song; every lyric is either spoken or yelled. When present, the lead guitar only aligns with the rest of the instruments in terms of rhythm. Its melodic line is dissonant compared to that of the other instruments and employs a lot of high pitched distortion. Barnett’s voice gets increasingly raspy and guttural throughout the song, ending in a short scream before the song’s conclusion.
Freytag’s definition of climax is also supported by the lyrics’ fierce expression of a powerful subject. I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch e xplicitly e laborates on the sexism that Nameless, Faceless r efers to. I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch is an outcry of frustration about the feeling that society indeed never changes. The overwhelming emotions that follow when one faces societal prejudice and marginalization are present in this song to the point of melodic and lyrical chaos. It is impossible to address every emotion that arises due to a systematic oppression such as sexism, so a chaotic expression of these emotions is appropriate and logical. The first person perspective combined with the chaotic nature of I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch makes this song all the more relatable to listeners who have experienced a similar form of overwhelming anger, especially if related to a form of oppression.
Crippling Self-Doubt And A General Lack Of Confidence Yeah they say whoever pays The piper calls the tune Let’s avoid the truth Make you all feel specialI Your desperation stinks I can smell it on your breath A certain absolut anosmic Got yourself to blame for thisI (Tell me how you really feel) I don’t know, I don’t know anything I don’t owe, I don’t owe anything Your opinion means a lot Well tell me what’s the use? I never feel as stupid As when I’m around youII And indecision rots Like a bag of last weeks meat And I guess it’s hard to keep Everybody happyII (Tell me how you really feel) I don’t know, I don’t know anything I don’t owe, I don’t owe anything
The immediate, drastic shift in melodic tone between Crippling Self-Doubt And A General Lack Of Confidence and that of I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch indicates that the climax has ended and the tragic force has begun. The tragic force is the second of the three dramatic crises that can exist between the five dramatic parts. In Freytag’s Critique of Drama, the tragic force is defined as “the beginning of the counter-action, between the climax and the return” and is marked by “the juxtaposition of two important passages which stand in sharp contrast with each other” (114, 131). Crippling Self-Doubt… is, both melodically and lyrically, much less severe than I’m Not Your Mother…, and the immediacy of the shift in tone makes the opposition between the two songs incredibly stark. This dramatic shift in tone solidifies Crippling Self-Doubt… as the tragic force of the album.
Although lighter in tone, the speaker’s anger in I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch bleeds into Crippling Self-Doubt And A General Lack Of Confidence. The lyricsI in the first two verses reflect the speaker’s anger through harsh sarcasm. The lyrics in the last two versesII shift from harsh sarcasm to despondent insecurity. The difference between the first two verses and the last two verses implies a downward shift in tonal energy. The downward shift in tonal energy in the lyrics as the song progresses foreshadows the fall of the next song.
The chorus in Crippling Self-Doubt And A General Lack Of Confidence i s the album’s thematic statement. This thematic statement is the core of the speaker’s perspective throughout the album. The speaker’s perspective simultaneously shapes their experiences and is shaped by their experiences. The rest of the album exists to express these different experiences in depth. The natural placement of the thematic statement is within the tragic force because it occurs after all of the major emotional events in the album. Together, many different elements of Crippling Self Doubt… c learly indicate that its chorus is the thematic statement of the album.
In most songs, the chorus tends to be the most repeated section in the song, making it the the song’s focal point. The title of the album is verbalized in only this song, directly preceding the chorus. Putting the title of the album in the lyrics of a song functions as signposting for the listener that instructs them to pay closer attention to what is coming next, which in this case is the chorus. Including signposting that further directs the listeners attention to a section that is already the focal point of a song indicates that this chorus is incredibly important. With this signposting, the writer is asking the listener to give the chorus even more attention than they normally would. The voices that say “tell me how you really feel” in the pre-chorus are not Barnett’s. This is the only time in the album that another person’s voice is heard on its own, without harmonizing with Barnett’s. This fact is significant because it indicates that the phrase “tell me how you really feel” in the pre-chorus is coming from an outside force. This gives the speaker the opportunity to directly respond to an outside force.
The chorus is the speaker’s response to the outside force in the pre-chorus. When read, the reader can clearly differentiate the phrases in the chorus from one another as separate phrases with different meanings. However, when heard in the context of this song, “I don’t know” and “I don’t owe” sound almost identical, making it impossible for the listener to know exactly which phrase Barnett is actually singing. Barnett could theoretically switch between the two phrases in a pattern that is different from that of the written lyrics, and the listener would have no idea. The ambiguity of the phrases in the chorus reflects the ambiguity of these two concepts to the speaker. “I don’t know anything” and “I don’t owe anything” repeat cyclically with different meanings attached to each phrase with every repetition for both the listener and the speaker. The ambiguity of the heard lyrics can mean that they are felt separately, in different orders, as well as simultaneously, depending on how they are interpreted by the listener. The ambiguity of the heard lyrics represents that the speaker has no concrete answer to the statement “Tell me how you really feel,” but that their answer fluctuates between varying degrees of insecurity (“I don’t know anything,”) defiance (“I don’t owe anything,”) and feelings in between. Although the written lyrics depict these phrases in a specific order, reading the written lyrics is not the primary method of experiencing this type of music. As Courtney Barnett does not provide sheet music along with Tell Me How You Really Feel, l istening to this album is the primary way of experiencing and interpreting her music. The ambiguity of the thematic statement of the album reinforces the fact that whatever the listener interprets from the music is what defines their experience of the music.
The relationship between the pre-chorus and the chorus is a microcosm of the relationship between the title of the album and the album itself. The pre-chorus lyric “tell me how you really feel” and the title of the album Tell Me How You Really Feel both represent forces outside of the speaker in the album and writer of the album, respectively. The lyric “tell me how you really feel” is an outside force that the speaker responds to with the thematic statement of the album, indicating the sum of how the speaker “really feel[s]”. The title of the album is not asking for a response from the listener; it is an indication that the sum of the album’s contents is how the writer “really feel[s]”.
Help Your Self Darkness depends on where you’re standingI Jump the creek n watch the sunshine swimI You found inner peace in the inner north-east. Got a momentary bend Gimme dreams up-stream Lower Dantian screaming You got a lot on your plate Don’t let it go to waste Humble but hungry Need validation You catch the moon so carefullyI Breath out, breath inI This tiger claw gets patientI Pull back n release.I The sign on the shelf says “Please help your self” Won’t you tell me something new You’re in tune with who surrounds youI You got a lot on your plate Don’t let it go to waste Humble but hungry Need validation You got a lot on your mind You know that half the time It’s only half as true Don’t let it swallow you
Help Your Self i s the fall in terms of Freytag’s Pyramid. The fall is the section that releases the negative energy held in the previous songs and begins to lead to a resolution. The slower tempo present earlier in the album resurfaces in this song, helping convey the release of the speaker’s anger. Help Your Self remains in a Major key throughout with a relaxing yet energetically present melody. The employment of a Major key throughout the song maintains its tonal and emotional consistency. Barnett employs lead guitar in this song to provide occasional dissonance and distortion, indicating that not all of the intensity of the previous few songs has worn off. Before the final chorus, Barnett performs a trademark expressive guitar solo that contradicts the reserved nature of her vocals. The excitement in the last guitar solo helps lead to the next song’s positionality as the force of final suspense of the album. The overall melodic tone of this song is consistent and does not fluctuate between two different tonal sections as many other songs that are closer to the climax do.
The lyrical tone of Help Your Self mirrors that of Hopefulessness with level-headed, advice giving, instructional words from the speaker to themselves. The chorus of this song exists as a reminder about the importance of emotional regulation after experiencing upsetting events and feelings as depicted in previous songs. The consistency in this song’s tone illustrates emotional consistency, and many lyricsI explicitly allude to the release of anger and anxiety. Both function to further convey this song’s positionality as the fall in the album.
Walkin’ On Eggshells Before we get started I’ll clean this up No use drinkin’ from a leakin’ cup Yknow what I mean? Not really it seems N when we get going’ we’ll keep it sane Change is as good as a holiday I’m not claimin’ I’m some patron saintI Say what you want Don’t got a lot Oh but what I got I’d give It all away Walkin’ on eggshells gets tiring Pullin’ teeth, white knucklin’ N I don’t wanna hurt your feelings So I say nothingII Sorta self-rightous my heart of gold Just sit back, do what you’re told If you spot it you got it Well maybe I got it tooI (and it goes, and it goes, yeah it goes away... say what you mean to say) Say what you want Don’t got a lot Oh but what I got I’d give It all away Say what you want Don’t got a lot Oh but what you got You’d throw It all away
Walkin’ On Eggshells is the force of final suspense in terms of Freytag’s Pyramid. The force of final suspense is defined as “the third [crisis,] which must rise once more before the catastrophe, between the return and the catastrophe” and is marked by the foreshadowing of the catastrophe so that the end may be felt “more vividly” (114, 135). This song provides this necessary piece of the narrative to prepare for the transition to the album’s resolution. The chord progression in this song perfectly outlines the song’s position as the force of final suspense because of the melodic tension in the verses. The bass line and chord progression in the verses of this song is written in the mixolydian mode. This is most easily heard in the bass line, as the bass line plays the root of each chord ascending the progression of the mixolydian scale. The way Barnett uses the mixolydian scale in this song creates a feeling of suspense near the end of each verse because Barnett does not resolve to the end of the scale. Instead, the end of the verses remain on the seventh scale degree for twice as long in duration of any other chord in the progression. After the second stanza of each verseI, there is a transitional melodic phrase comprised of passing tones that leads to the chorus. The progression is resolved when
the chorus enters.
The lyrics in Walkin’ On Eggshells a re also indicative of this song’s positionality as the albums force of final suspense. “Walking on eggshells” as a colloquial phrase generally refers to the feeling of constant suspense in a relationship where one person expects the other to follow certain rules. The fear that something bad will happen in the relationship if a mistake is made is generally the core of the suspense. Since this phrase is in both the name of the song and the lyrics, there is a connotation that the speaker is experiencing this sort of unhealthy dynamic. The lyrics in the fourth stanzaII unpack the feeling of “walking on eggshells” and allude to the resentment it might breed. The suspense present in both the lyrics and the composition of Walkin’ On Eggshells allows the resolution of the album’s final song Sunday Roast to be felt more thoroughly than otherwise possible.
Sunday Roast Don’t come with your arms swinging Throw them around me Some kind of sweet relief I hope you never leave It’s all the same to me Just bring yourself You know your presence is Present enough I got a front row seat It’s all the same to me I spend a lotta my time Doin’ a whole lotta nothing I know you’re doin’ your best I think you’re doin’ just fine I know it’s been a long week And now you’re takin’ your time Some kindness goes around Some kinda backfires It’s all the same to me Ignore that voice It puts you down You make your choice I’m here for you It’s all the same to me I got a lot on my mind But I dunno how to say it I know you’re doin’ your best I think you’re doin’ just fine Keep on keepin’ on yknow you’re not alone And I know all your stories but I’ll listen to them again And if you move away yknow I’ll miss your face It’s all the same to me yknow it’s all the same to me
Sunday Roast i s the catastrophe of the album, according to Freytag’s Pyramid. The term “catastrophe” connotes a terrible event, but in context of Freytag’s Pyramid, it simply means “the closing action…the exodus. In it the embarrassment of the chief characters is relieved through a great deed” (137). In Sunday Roast, the anxieties of the speaker are relieved through the repetition of validating forces. The song begins with a soft guitar and a slow, consistent drum beat. The drummer uses floor toms rather than the snare to provide the majority of the beat, which provides a rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. The snare is occasionally used as an accent, but the attack that snare drums tend to have is muted slightly to avoid a jarring, sharp attack. The rest of the instruments support the drum’s lead and evoke feelings of peacefulness and tranquility.
The lyrics are written from the same perspective as Hopefulessness wherein they are grounding statements and affirmations that exist to relieve the anxieties of the speaker and the listener. It is as if the speaker is repeating these affirmations to themselves in order to release their worries while simultaneously relieving the anxieties of another. The title Sunday Roast is reminiscent of a dinner shared with loved ones. This song is a beautiful way to end an album that demonstrates such a huge spectrum of both negative and positive emotions. Ending with a series of affirmations of love that are written in such a personal way provides a means for both the speaker and listener to come back from the intensity experienced in the prior songs of the album.
Conclusion
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In This Is Your Brain On Music, Daniel Levatin relays insight about the emotional safety that some musicians provide for their audiences:
"Safety plays a role for a lot of us in choosing music. To a certain extent, we surrender to music when we listen to it- we allow ourselves to trust the composers and musicians with a part of our hearts and our spirits; we let the music take us somewhere outside of ourselves. Many of us feel that great music connects us to something larger than our own existence, to other people, or to God. Even when music doesn’t transport us to an emotional place that is transcendent, music can change our mood. We might be understandably reluctant, then, to let down our guard, to drop our emotional defenses, for just anyone. We will do so if the musicians and composer make us feel safe. We want to know that our vulnerability is not going to be exploited" (242-243).
Courtney Barnett undoubtedly provides a safe space for her listeners with lyrics that model a healthy way of handling anxiety and conflict while repeating phrases that are equally uplifting both in and out of the song’s context. She maintains this safe space even when writing about the anger and unrest that accompanies experiences of prejudice such as sexism (like in I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch,) without undermining the ferocity of these negative feelings. The ferocity of I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch is important because it helps validate the emotions of people who deal with these prejudices. The safe space is maintained even here because it is surrounded by other songs that angle themselves toward emotional regulation and anxiety management. The album is bookended by its most tender songs Hopefulessness and Sunday Roast, helping the listener begin and end the emotional journey outlined in the album with self-acceptance and love.
Tell Me How You Really Feel is an example of how representation of perspectives in media is incredibly important. People who more closely relate to Courtney Barnett’s identity as a woman have a greater potential to find solidarity in the experiences and feelings expressed in I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch. Not everyone will relate to I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch, because not everyone experiences the sexism that this song explicitly references. However, I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch i s incredibly beneficial to people who do experience sexism because it not only validates their emotions about the subject but offers solidarity in their individual experiences of sexism. That being said, Courtney Barnett did not pave the road for women artists being vocal about their anger about sexism. She sits on the shoulders of women throughout history that used music to subvert the injustices they faced on a daily basis. Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Patti Smith, Aretha Franklin, and Riot Grrrl are only a few among a massive list of feminist artists that made it safer and easier for Courtney Barnett to express herself in such a way. Courtney Barnett is supported by these women, and is using her voice to uplift and support other women in the same way. Whether intentional or not, Courtney Barnett is participating in this cycle and is doing her part to uplift and validate women much like her predecessors did.
Recorded music like Tell Me How You Really Feel creates a safe space and offers solidarity and validation. It is especially powerful because the solidarity and validation it provides can be reached at any time by marginalized audiences who otherwise might not have access to emotionally healthy perspectives. As I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch supports listeners who are dealing with trauma-related anger, Need A Little Time offers a positive example of conflict resolution, and Sunday Roast offers unconditional warmth and acceptance. Tell Me How You Really Feel takes listeners through an emotional arc that is equally representative of negative and positive experiences while offering a healthy precedent of emotionally processing both. Cisgender, straight, white audience members have an abundance of representation in art, and that means they have more variety in music that provide safe spaces. We as a society need to work harder to popularize and support the representation of marginalized groups in art because they, too, deserve an abundance of solidarity and validation that white queer women get from listening to Courtney Barnett. The forces of systematic oppression are absolutely present in art, but artists and audiences have the power to undermine these forces with the creation and support of activist, ethical art, like Tell Me How You Really Feel. It is the responsibility of both audiences and artists to understand the role they have in supporting systematic oppression, and we must all vigorously and resiliently work to subvert it.
Works Cited
Barthes, Roland, and Heath, Stephen. Image Music Text. Fontana Press, 1977.
Courtney Barnett. Tell Me How You Really Feel, Remote Control Records, 2018. Spotify, open.spotify.com/album/3l7JWewI3ZByxaT5BCgRx2?si=p0APDp48Tsei21VZL9RS9g.
Feldman, Greg, et al. “Differential Effects of Mindful Breathing, Progressive Muscle Relaxation, and Loving-Kindness Meditation on Decentering and Negative Reactions to Repetitive Thoughts.” Behaviour Research and Therapy, vol. 48, no. 10, Oct. 2010, pp. 1002–1011., doi:10.1016/j.brat.2010.06.006.
Freytag, Gustav, and Elias J. MacEwan. Freytag’s Technique of the Drama: An Exposition of Dramatic Composition and Art. an Authorized Translation from the 6th German Ed. by Elias J. Macewan. Chicago: Scott, Foresman, 1900. Internet resource.
Levitin, Daniel J. This Is Your Brain on Music: the Science of a Human Obsession. Dutton, 2016.
“Lyrics.” Courtney Barnett, http://www.courtneybarnett.com.au/lyrics.
“Muzak.” Oxford Advanced American Dictionary, OxfordLearnersDictionaries.com, Oxford University Press. Oxfordlearnersdictioinaries.com, https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/us/definition/american_english/muzaktm. Accessed 29 November 2019.
Radano, Ronald M. “Interpreting Muzak: Speculations on Musical Experience in Everyday Life.” American Music, vol. 7, no. 4, 1989, p. 448., doi:10.2307/3051915.
Scarry, Elaine. On Beauty and Being Just. Princeton University Press, 2001.
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