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Today I went to Major Matt's to remaster my old album
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And on the L train in the morning, I was pretty sure I saw Will Oldham
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He was wearin' the same sunglasses he had on stage at the Bowery Ballroom
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Had he come to walk among the Williamsburgers of his kingdom?
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And like the burghers of Calais will a sacrifice be demanded
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To offer up our dreams and beg for mercy empty-handed?
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And hapless in our hipness crowded 5 to an apartment
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Relegate our dreams to hobbies and deny our disappointment
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'Cause The Stones in '65 want total satisfaction, kid
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But The Stones in '69 see grace in just getting what you need
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But if that's a victory, then I'd hate to see what I'd look like defeated
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'Cause I know there are those walk among us who seem to get their dreams unimpeded
[Verse]
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Like, today I went to Major Matt's to remaster my old album
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And on the L train in the morning, I was really sure I saw Will Oldham
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He was wearin' the same sunglasses he had on stage at the Bowery Ballroom
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Had he come to walk among the Williamsburgers of his kingdom?
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And you might say now there's a guy who seems to have their world laid out before him
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Or you might say, he's just a rich kid or a fascist or a charlatan
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But either way you say it if you look at indie-rock culture you really can't ignore him
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And even if at first dismissive, after some listens you'll enjoy him
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I was thinking this on the L train, intent on bursting my own bubble
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How long should an artist struggle before it isn't worth the hassle?
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And admit we aren't fit to be the one inside the castle
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Is this quest for greatness or at least hipness just a scam and too much trouble?
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But then what makes on human being worthy of an easy ride
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Born to be a natural artist you love or hate but can't deny
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While us minions in our millions tumble into history's chasm
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We might have a couple of laughs but we're still wastes of protoplasm
[Verse]
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Like, today I was gonna waste some time and money to remaster some dumb old album
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And on the L train in the morning, i was really sure I saw Will Oldham
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He was wearin' the same big sunglasses he had on stage at the Bowery Ballroom
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Had he come to see the strife here in the gutters of his kingdom?
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Where us noble starving artists are striving hard to feed our egos
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Our mothers like our music our our friends come see our shows
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And if our friends become successful, we'll consider them our foes
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Go home to our four roommates after payin' big bucks for rockstars' shows
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What a nightmare! What a horror! I don't want no part of this
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Get me off this crazy ride! I'm gonna puke, I'm gonna piss!
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I'd rather kill myself I'd rather just relax or not exist!
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But you say you wanna do an e-mail interview? Oh what the heck, I can't resist!
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Hey ma, guess what? Today I did another magazine interview!
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"Honey, that's great, you're really famous!" Yeah and I'm twenty seven too!
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I kinda thought I was gonna grow up to do stuff that would benefit humanity
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But it's getting harder to tell if this artist's life is even benefiting me
[Verse]
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Cause today I was gonna waste some time and money today to remaster some dumb old album
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And on the L train in the morning, I was totally sure I saw Will Oldham
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He was wearin' the same big sunglasses he had on stage at the Bowery Ballroom
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And since I was feeling in need of answers I just went right up and asked him, I said
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"Will Bonnie Prince, Palace or whatever, what do you think about it?
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Is it worth being an artist or an indie-rock star, or are you better off without it?"
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Cause you know maybe the world would be better if we were all just un-creative drones
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No dead childhood dreams to haunt us, a decent job, a decent home
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And if we had some extra time we could do real things to promote peace
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Become scientists or history teachers or un-corrupt police at least
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"Come on Will, you gotta tell me!" I grabbed and shook him by the arm
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The L train was leaning Bedford with 10,000 white twenty-somethings crowed on
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He opened his mouth to speak but it was lost in the rumbling of the wheels
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We were thrown together in a corner and I yelled "Tell me, man, for real!"
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You're living comfortably, I assume, even if you're not quite a household name
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You've reached a pretty high level of success and critical acclaim
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The L train got to First Avenue and a bunch of people piled out
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I was staring into his sunglasses and I was really freakin' out, I was like
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Steamboat Willie Bonnie Prince of all this shit,
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You're like the king of a certain genre but even you must want to quit
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Like if you hear a record by Bob Dylan or Neil Young or whatever
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You must start thinkin' "Yeah, people like me, but I won't be that good ever"
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And I'm sure the thing is probably Dylan himself too
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Stayed up some nights wishing he was as good as Ginsberg or Camus
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And he was like "Dude, I'm such a faker, I'm just a clown who entertains
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And these fools who pay for my crap, they just have pathetic puny brains
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And Camus probably wished he was Milton too or whatever, you know what i'm sayin'?!"
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So Will, will you be straight with me now that it's just us two on this train?
[Verse]
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'Cause I was gonna spend some time and money today to remaster some dumb old album
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And I saw you here on the L train and I was like "Hey, is that Will Oldham?"
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He must at least have some perspective cause it's like, living in this town
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I get so confused and wound up and uptight and I just don't know up from down
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And then we'd reached the last stop and the subway was deserted
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There was a long moment of silence and I let go of his shirt
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I started to think that maybe I'd made some kind of big mistake
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I tried to walk out onto the platform but by then it was too late
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His sunglasses seemed to grow darker and still he hadn't even spoke
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He just came right up behind me and put his hands around my throat
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And threw me down onto the concrete and kicked my face in with his boot
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And dragged me down onto the train tracks and tied my hands back with his coat
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And I was slipping out of consciousness as he was slipping down my jeans
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And he was punching me and humping me and I slipped off into a dream
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So it might have just been a delusion but I thought I heard him say
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Something like, "Artists are pussies" then he climbed back up and ran away
[Verse]
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So I lay there in the darkness on the train tracks cold and broken
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The hours passed and I thought "well, maybe I won't remaster that old album"
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And then I started thinking maybe it really wasn't even Will Oldham
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Even though he did hold my arms and fuck me just like Will sings in "A Sucker's Evening"
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But whether it was him or not I couldn't forget the words he'd spoken
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"Artists are pussies," like, we're wusses or we end up getting fucked
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And other kinds of folks are dicks: tall, smart and strong and born to fuck us up
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I know it sounds really sexist and stupid, It's a terrible analogy.
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But at that moment on the train tracks, it made a lot of sense to me
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Maybe it's just some kind of natural balance, like 2 types of mental gender
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That's gone on in all societies in one form or another,
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Like some dicks were born to conquer, I probably would if I could,
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But if I'm just a pussy, that's okay, 'cause in a few months maybe I'll put out something good
