Mind-Game Monday: “You’ll Be Back”
Jan 24th, 2016 by Kimberly
Okay, so Call & Response Wednesday wasn’t working for me. Maybe once again, someday. The music is still swirling around in my head, however, and Erika has given me permission to do the music thing, so I’ve thought up a new twist: Mind-Game Monday.
This may (or may not) be the only time I ask you to listen to a song twice.
The piece in question, “You’ll Be Back,” appears in the musical Hamilton, yet another by the talented and mind-bogglingly efficient Lin-Manuel Miranda. After writing the Tony-award winning In the Heights, in a free moment from writing and starring in Hamilton, the story of Alexander Hamilton of Revolutionary War fame, he penned a song for the current Star Wars movie. I understand he’s available for bar mitzvahs and home repair, too. Hamilton is a masterpiece. My only criticism lies with the women, or lack thereof. Miranda very purposefully cast the show multi-ethnically, to reflect “America today,” in his words. Um, yeah. Then why are there only three women in the show that sing, and why are they all in love with Hamilton? If the Founding Fathers can be different ethnicities, why couldn’t some of them have been Founding Mothers, instead? Personally, I cherish a fantasy that the movie version will feature Queen Latifah as George Washington and Kristin Chenoweth as George III. I’d pay good money for that.
For now, however, we’ll deal with what Miranda got right. Listen to this song the first time for the straightforward message. King George III, as played wittily and prettily by Jonathan Groff, talks to his erstwhile subjects, explaining that he knows what’s best for them. Relish the inside jokes – “When you’re gone, I’ll go mad” – “Don’t change the subject, cause you’re my favorite subject.” That Miranda is a clever devil.
KING GEORGE:
You say the price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay
You cry in your tea which you hurl in the sea when you see me go by
Why so sad?
Remember we made an arrangement when you went away
Now you’re making me mad
Remember despite our estrangement, I’m your man
You’ll be back
Soon you’ll see
You’ll remember you belong to me
You’ll be back
Time will tell
You’ll remember that I served you well
Oceans rise, empires fall
We have seen each other through it all
And when push comes to shove,
I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da da dayada
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da da da
You say our love is draining and you can’t go on
You’ll be the one complaining when I am gone
And, no, don’t change the subject
‘Cause you’re my favorite subject
My sweet, submissive subject
My loyal, royal subject
Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever
You’ll be back
Like before
I will fight the fight and win the war
For your love
For your praise
And I’ll love you till my dying days
When you’re gone, I’ll go mad
So don’t throw away this thing we had
‘Cause when push comes to shove
I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da da dayada
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da
Everybody!
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da da dayada
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dadada da da dayada
Not my link, but a great song. If the link is not legit, someone let me know and I’ll take it down.
Now, allow me to explain the title of the blog.
Every now and again, I listen to a song and get a flash of something I’m pretty sure the songwriters didn’t intend. They probably don’t mind. As an artist, you have to understand that no creation is never truly your own. You put something out in the world, and it means one thing to you. Once it gets introduced to the audience, however, they come to it with all their own experiences and baggage. It doesn’t go straight to anyone’s analytical brain, it goes through filters, and each one changes the message the person experiencing it will ultimately receive.
I’ve listened to this song several times, belting it out at the top of my lungs in the car, imagining all the musical theatre directors who will have to endure bad versions of it in auditions to come. (Make your peace with this. You can’t stop it.) Each time I heard only a cocky monarch extolling the virtues of his own control. Then came today.
Today I sang with extra purpose, because singing is one of the best ways for me to improve my spirits. Right now, I try to sing through bad circumstances. At other times in my life, it’s been something murkier, a sort of quicksand that I can’t escape without help. I had my first bout of clinical depression at seventeen. It’s a difficult phenomenon to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced it. Winston Churchill called it his “black dog.” J.K. Rowling personified it in her Harry Potter books as a dementor. I’ve tried to explain it to people as a ring of darkness around the edge of my brain. Whether it’s caused by a situation that seems unfixable or a brain with health issues, it comes in waves, and being told to cheer up doesn’t serve as a great antidote. (The one PSA I feel entitled to give: glib advice always makes depression worse. Just listen, offer to drive them to therapy, and bring chocolate. J.K. Rowling wasn’t wrong about that.)
I listened to this song today and thought suddenly about depression.
I had to laugh. Who knew depression had a sense of humor? And I’m sure if it were a person, it would totally strut around in that crown and cape. “You’ll be back,” it sings. It tells you that your life is horrible, that good things are no longer possible, and oh yes, in an undercurrent in every phrase, it whispers that only it will tell you the truth.
You’ll be back
Time will tell
You’ll remember that I served you well
Depression? I might be a downer, but you can count on me. I will never tell you that I’m too busy for you, or that I prefer someone else. I will make time for you.
And when push comes to shove,
I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love
I’m only telling you these things because I love you, you understand. I’m honest with you. No one else loves you enough to be straight with you.
You say our love is draining and you can’t go on
You’ll be the one complaining when I am gone
You enjoy this, down deep. It’s not a chemical imbalance in your brain like the doctor tries to tell you. It can’t be fixed with medicine or therapy. Deep down, you’re here because you want to be, because you know you don’t deserve to be happy. I understand. I’m here for you. And let’s face it, eventually those people you think are your friends and family will all desert you, so you might as well curl up here with me. It’s your destiny.
When you’re gone, I’ll go mad
So don’t throw away this thing we had
‘Cause when push comes to shove
I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love
Da dada da da
Da dadada dayada
Dada da da dayada
And depression struts merrily through your brain, dropping nonsense into every available lobe and tapping dancing on it to make sure it stays.
Now, before you say “That’s horrible!” and vow never to listen to this song again, bear with me a moment. In that first hearing, you experienced the lyrics with your 21st century filter. King George can strut and sing all he wants. He still loses. We all know this. You were in on the joke right from the beginning, along with everyone else in America. You could enjoy the absurdity of his conceit, the obvious fallacy and self-interest of his arguments.
When I listen to this song and think about depression, I hear the same thing.
Depression’s power is as unstable as King George’s was. It can tax me, it can imprison me sometimes, but I hope this song will always remind me that it is not my king. No matter how unloved and unlovable it tells me that I am, if I keep fighting, I have the chance to win my independence.
Kimberly hopes that you aren’t experiencing depression, but if you are, she hopes you reach out for help. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong, and smart. Trust her – on this one subject in life, she practices what she preaches.
So appreciate your honesty about the subject of depression. We should meet in NYC and go see Hamilton!
Thank you, Holly! I cannot begin to tell you how much I would love an NYC trip with you!
Hello darkness, my old friend . . .
A staff member at my university’s health center once suggested I had “manic depression” (now I think they call it “bipolar disorder”). I never bothered to follow up. That’s probably stupid of me, but there you go. At the time I was a poor student who didn’t have money or transportation or a way of even finding a “real” doctor. I certainly know when I’m sinking, though, and I know my triggers. And Scott knows what I mean when I say, “I’m feeling down.” He’s good about easing me through it. I had a therapist after Alexander was born, and that helped a lot. I should try it again some time . . .
It’s never a bad idea. As my shrink tells me, it’s not that you couldn’t get through it on your own, but why let those times be harder than they have to be?
Kimberly, you never cease to amaze me! I feel so blessed to have met you at a writer’s conference a few years back. I only know you only through your writing since we live so far apart geographically; however, your ability to get at the heart of a complex medical condition (like depression) in a manner that’s both entertaining and honest is so refreshing. Drawing analogies between King George III and depression both made me laugh and cringe at the same time. Having only suffered small bouts after prolonged illness, I don’t know how others manage…especially in long, overcast Michigan winters! I wish I could deliver some chocolates to you. Thank you for sharing. I always look forward to reading your blog posts…like chocolate delivered directly to my in-box:)