Born to Be Mild

I’ve tried to avoid using this blog as a medium to air every thought that pops into my head or to recount the minutia of my daily life. Instead, I use it to provide a public service on issues of importance to the people of Springfield. You may recall that it was I who exposed the criminal underbelly of the Red Hat Society and who campaigned vigorously for the use of non-vulgar yet whimsically expressive swear words. Given my record of tireless work on behalf of the common good, I believe that I am entitled me to expound on a rather trivial matter that I find particularly troubling.

I was riding the elliptical trainer in my basement the other morning when the episode of Arrested Development I was watching on DVD finished before my allotted 40 minute training session had expired. I switched over to cable, stopping at VH1 to take in a video of Alanis Morissette doing a cover of Seal’s 1991 hit “Crazy.”

Mlle Morissette gives a pretty faithful recreation of the original; the only real difference is that the accompanying storyline in the video has a little twist at the end that should play well with lesbians and their admirers. She also has a much better complexion than Seal. But none of that is what I find troubling.

Listening to Alanis sing Seal’s words, it occurred to me for the first time that the song has a different message than the one that I, and perhaps you, had assumed.

Consider this line from the song:

In a world full of people, only some want to fly,
Isn't that crazy?

Here, Seal is lamenting the fact that so many people exist in a lemming-like state instead of breathing deep the wondrous and unlimited experiences that life has to offer, if only we’d spread our wings and give flight to our ambitions. “Where is the joie de vivre?” Seal seems to be asking. “Embrace the madcap now for without a degree of recklessness in our daily life we are sentenced to an existence fraught by tedium.” He goes as far as to call it “crazy”, this languid lifestyle that grounds so many. I don’t doubt that he means it.

Fair enough, but what is Seal saying to us here:

But we're never gonna survive, unless...
We get a little crazy

This sentiment, if taken on its own, would seem to affirm his message. Our future as a species, Seal is telling us, is dependent on our shaking loose of temperate and confining attitudes in favor of a more unorthodox and revolutionary approach, i.e., we need to “get a little crazy.”

But note his use of the word “crazy.” In the first instance, “crazy” describes the condition that causes people to settle for a sedentary lifestyle. So when he tells us later that survival is dependent on craziness, is he not, contrary to appearances, imploring us to retreat to that lemming-like state? Can we then assume, after a more careful listening, that rather than an anthem for the audacious, this song is merely a call for complacency? Sadly I think we can.

I’m wondering if we really ever knew Seal at all. The Gap featured him in advertisements to parlay some of his cosmopolitan appeal; little did they know that he has the mindset of a Moonie. Behind the supermodel wife and the bevy of Grammys lies a man with the heart of Stuart Smalley.

And what now to make of Alanis who chose to cover the song. Perhaps she isn’t the feisty “jagged little pill” we all came to see her as. Who knew that the provocative hellcat whose explosive jealousy caused her to over enunciate the word “theatre” in her debut single “You Ought to Know,” would someday be asking everyone to just relax and go with the flow. What’s next Lani, planning on whistling a little “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” for us.

One could argue that I'm over-analyzing this and Seal is simply ascribing two different meanings to the word "crazy," one negative and one positive. I don't happen to believe that such contrary interpretations can be accommodated in a four minute pop song. It's also lyrically lazy. Patsy Cline never made such demands on us.

I should know better than to fall for Benetton-style pop songs. It’s probably best if I don’t listen too closely to Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill” lest I discover he’s advocating for the complete resignation of personal fulfillment in exchange for universal tranquility. Serenity now, insanity later - indeed. I don’t have this problem when I listen to the Replacements.