LYRICAL LOITERINGS OF A LISTENER Series
Thoughts, ideas and reactions provoked by song lyrics. The series is also featured on Clink Music Magazine.
I love a song with attitude. Sometimes the metaphoric, the symbolic and the descriptive just don’t cut it. Papa Roach’s Between Angels And Insects oozes ball-breaking Attitude with a capital ‘A’.
Between Angels And Insects
There’s no money, there’s no possessions, only obsession
I don’t need that shit
Take my money, take my obsession
I just wanna be heard, loud and clear are my words
Comin’ from within man, tell ‘em what you heard
It’s about a revolution, in your heart and in your mind
You can find the conclusion
Lifestyle and obsession, diamond rings get you nothin’
But a lifelong lesson, and your pocketbook stressin’
You’re a slave to the system, workin’ jobs that you hate
For that shit you don’t need
It’s too bad the world is based on greed, step back and see
Stop thinkin’ ’bout yourself, start thinkin’ ’bout
There’s no money, there’s no possession, only obsession
I don’t need that shit
Take my money, take my possession, take my obsession
I don’t need that shit
‘Cause everything is nothing, and emptiness is in everything
This reality is really just a fucked up dream
With the flesh and the blood that you call your soul
Flip it inside out it’s a big black hole
Take your money burn it up like an asteroid
Possessions, they are never gonna fill the void, take it away
And learn the best lesson, the heart, the soul, the life, the passion
There’s no money, there’s no possession, only obsession
I don’t need that shit
Take my money, take my possession, take my obsession
I don’t need that shit
Money, possession, obsession
Present yourself, press your clothes, comb your hair
Clock in, you just can’t win, just can’t win
The things you own, own you, no
Take my money, take my possession, take my obsession
I don’t need that shit
Fuck your money, fuck your possession, fuck your obsession
I don’t need that shit
Money, possession, obsession
I don’t need that shit
The song is all about the trappings of materialism – a lesson that is often preached from a boring-ass, sing-song, moralistic perspective. These days the whole ‘money can’t buy happiness’ thing is mentioned so often that it tends to fall on deaf ears, especially if you have no money. The message just needs a new tone; kind of like “Fuck your money, fuck your possession, fuck your obsession/ I don’t need that shit” – that’s something that I can relate to.
As a little girl, I totally bought into the whole fairy tale ideal: Prince Charming, big castle, beautiful ball gowns, white horse, servants… the whole shebang. Twenty years down the line, I have my Prince but he didn’t come with a castle, servants and a horse. I could have bought my own mansion if I had pursued the Law Degree I qualified with but I decided (a little too late) that tattoos, piercings and Dr Martins were more important than a career. The conventional notion of “Present yourself, press your clothes, comb your hair/ Clock in…” just wasn’t for me. So now, I am a humble writer, living in a one bedroom flat in London with my Prince and my baby girl. And I am happy.
But materialism isn’t necessarily about money. Naturally, in a world “based on greed”, money is an oppressive motivator. If we measure our self-worth according to what we have, money is the best way to accumulate bigger and better things. As the song suggests, it is easy to become a “… a slave to the system, workin’ jobs that you hate/ For that shit you don’t need”, all for the sake of an identity fuelled by material things. Yet surely there are rich people who are happy? Undoubtedly there are. The point is that materialism is a state of mind that can infect anyone’s value system – irrespective of wealth.
It’s right about now that my argument could start to become philosophically irritating, so I am not going to preach on the demerits of allowing possessions to dictate existence. I love my stuff – my books, my CDs, the art hanging on my walls, my trinkets… my stuff – and I often have to remind myself that those things are exactly that; things. My things do bring me oodles of joy but I am okay without them. Funnily enough, it almost hurts to say that, which is testament to the fact that I am obsessively and unhealthily attached to some (many) of the items that permeate my existence. Does this make me a bad person? Maybe. But I just can’t do the ‘give up my worldly possessions to help the orphan children in Africa’ thing. I do feel a little guilty about that – clearly not enough to sell my stuff and move. Perhaps I am being an extremist but I do feel an ideological twinge about my superior (middle class) status in this world. I can only resolve the inner turmoil I feel about valuing my shoes and corsets over starving children by trying to make some kind of meagre difference in my own community, whilst simultaneously wondering how I managed to end up discussing world hunger when materialism was actually the topic at hand. Talk about a can of worms – I have opened a big one. Realistically, I am certain that if the whole world gave up their stuff and moved to Africa… well, it’s just not possible. This leads me to believe I am not a bad person (mental high five) – as long as others are selflessly making the trip to Africa I can relish my comforts and do ‘my bit’ from home. Life is peachy when the buck is passed (I rescind that high five).
It is best to think on a smaller scale when it comes to the notion of materialism; being grateful for what one has and acknowledging that wealth is a) relative, and b) a privilege. Perhaps it’s not bad to love stuff or even obsess over stuff. Love and obsession becomes dangerous when it is practised at the expense of relationships; when the idolatrous love of an object, even an idea, overwhelms the desire for relationship, in all its forms. As intrinsically social beings, humans are born to be in relationships – as mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, lovers, friends and the list continues. If something (ie. materialism) disrupts the yearning for relationship, that ‘something’ is bad. In the western world, materialism is a hard thing to escape. Sometimes I find myself wishing for a simpler life – a house, and some land on which to subsist. But practicalities suggest that that probably won’t happen. So the best conclusion I can arrive at (in terms of my own ideological perspective) is that materialism in excess (whatever that may be) is bad. In response to a world that preaches ‘bigger, better, faster’ I sing along with Papa Roach “Take my money, take my possession, take my obsession/ I don’t need that shit/ Fuck your money, fuck your possession, fuck your obsession.”
This is a really good piece. It’s so easy to get caught up in materialism when you live in London, surrounded by shops and stuff. Seeing everything you might have, but cant afford. But I think its ok to dream, as long as you keep sight of what is really important.