Jump to content

User:49p/sandbox/Good Morning, Captain

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"Good Morning, Captain"
Song by Slint
from the album Spiderland
ReleasedMarch 27, 1991 (1991-03-27)
RecordedAugust 1990
StudioRiver North Records (Chicago)
Genre
Length7:38
LabelTouch and Go
Songwriter(s)
Producer(s)Brian Paulson (credited as engineer

"Good Morning Captain" is a song by American rock band Slint from their second studio album, Spiderland (1991). It is the final track on the album. Before Spiderland, Slint was known for its abrasive sound from their debut studio album, Tweez. The band focused on a different sound with more complexity and less abrasiveness for Spiderland. The song's lyrics were written by Slint's frontman, Brian McMahan, during the recording session of Spiderland. McMahan had pressure from his family as his parents were dissatisfied with Slint. McMahan also had a younger brother who was entering high school as he started touring and felt that he wasn't there for him. McMahan expresses his bond with his younger brother through the song's lyrics, which tell the story of a mariner seeking shelter after being stranded at sea.

Recording McMahan's vocals for the song was challenging as he had fallen sick after recording due to the strain of yelling at the song's end. Following the recording of the song, McMahan checked into a hospital and was diagnosed with clinical depression. Shortly after the diagnosis, Slint disbanded. Spiderland was promoted minimally by the label due to the band disbanding, and the album went into obscurity. In 1995, "Good Morning, Captain" saw renewed interest after the song's inclusion in the soundtrack album for the movie Kids (1995). This exposure, including word-of-mouth promotion, gradually increased sales for Spiderland in the ensuing years, eventually leading to the song's critical acclaim. It has been praised for its emotional intensity.

Background

[edit]
Steve Albini (pictured), who produced Tweez, is often known for his distinct recording style which focused more on a sharp guitar sound and vocals often mixed lower in relation to the music.

Slint released their debut studio album, Tweez, in 1989. The band's lineup, at the time, was David Pajo on guitar, Brian McMahan on guitar and vocals, Britt Walford on drums, and Ethan Buckler on bass guitar. The album was known for its experimental nature as the band was open to manipulating their songs.[1] The album was produced by Steve Albini, who became friends with Slint after they opened for his band Big Black.[2] The recording experience of the album was conflicting to Buckler. He was dissatisfied with Albini's recording techniques, saying "[Albini] would produce bands to sound raw and abrasive; I wanted Slint to sound warm and delicate."[3] Consequently, Buckler left the band and was replaced by Todd Brashear, a friend of Pajo at Indiana University Bloomington who liked the album's sound.[4]

By the fall of 1988, the band members had left for college. Walford and McMahan, sharing a dorm room at Northwestern University, started creating sketches of songs that were more complex and longer than those in Tweez.[5] The band would sporadically tour, until recording again with Albini to record two songs. In those sessions, they recorded "Rhoda", a reworked version of the song from Tweez, and "Glenn", one of the band's newer finished songs.[6] Both songs saw a progression from the sounds of Tweez, featuring longer lengths of songs and the absent of abrasiveness sounds like voices and crashing noises. [7] The band cited the simplicity of 1930s and 1940s folk music and delta blues as their new influences, where a performer played with no multiple takes or recording techniques.[8] These changes would be reflected in later recordings of Slint, focusing on a warmer sound. Both songs would be released later in 1994 as an untitled EP.

The studio recordings drew the attention of Corey Rusk, co-founder of Touch and Go Records. He said that the album "was just so radically different than Tweez. ... I remember getting a tape of that and just listening to it over and over, really fucking loud."[9] By early 1990, Rusk had agreed to pay for studio time and committed to a release their next record, Spiderland (1991), with Touch and Go.[10]

Production

[edit]

Pajo said that the band "wanted Spiderland to be natural — the opposite of Tweez".[11] The album was recorded in August 1990 with producer Brian Paulson, who was known for his "live" recording style and minimal takes. "Good Morning, Captain" was written by McMahan and Walford after the basic tracks had been recorded during practice sessions. The lyrics and vocal performances for Spiderland were not often heard by Pajo and Brashear until their final recording.[12] The song's lyrics also changed heavily during recording, with the whole musical arrangement shifting due to it.[13]

The recording sessions of Spiderland were considered intense, fraught, and often difficult. According to AllMusic, they were "traumatic...and one more piece of evidence supporting the theory that band members had to be periodically institutionalized during the completion of the album."[14] Walford later said that there was no truth to such claims, although the band was "definitely trying to be serious about things, pretty intense, which made recording the album kinda stressful."[15] The process of recording McMahan's vocals for the album was notably challenging, as he was stressed and Brashear saying that "he's never wanted to be the front-guy or the singer".[16]

Music

[edit]

"Good Morning, Captain" is built from a two-chord and dissonant guitar structure[17], described as a "spindly, tight riff", with a "jerky" drumbeat.[18] It tells the story of a stranded captain seeking shelter after a storm has taken his ship and crew. The captain calls from outside a house on the coastline. At first, there is no response, but eventually, a child appears, seemingly recognizing him but refusing to admit him, with the captain being nothing more than a shadow whom the boy fears.[19] The captain opens the shades against the window and seems to recognize the boy. The captain says to the boy, "I'm trying to find my way home. I'm sorry, and I miss you".[20] The song continues with muffled vocals from the captain until McMahan shouts "I miss you", being the last thing we hear from the captain.[20]

A illustration of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Gustave Doré. It decipts a mariner on the mast in a storm. Many critics argued that "Good Morning, Captain" is a tribute to the poem, but the band has denied this.

"Good Morning, Captain" has been described as a tribute to Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner[18]. In the poem, a sailor recounts his long sea voyage with supernatural elements. The mariner encounters a bird that helps them get out of an ice jam, which he later on the boat except the mariner.[21] Despite the poem being loosely related to the song, biographer Scott Tennent has claimed that many people connect the poem to the song as the song implies a supernatural element, particularly the last verse where the captain meets the boy.[21] However, the band has denied the claim that the song was about the poem.[16] McMahan said that the song was a personal story about his transition into adulthood.[16] He stated his parents were dissatisfied of touring, with his dad saying it was "a huge mistake".[22] He also had a brother, who was five years younger than him and was heading to high school. The song acknowledged McMahan and his brother's bond, and where communicating one's feelings in a family was "weirdly just not at all acceptable".[16] McMahan further stated that the title of the song comes from the theme song of Captain Kangaroo.[16]

[The song] is acknowledging this bond, knowing, or feeling as I did at the time, that there was not much I could do to help him through. For me, being a little bit older and trying to understand my relationship to my family without having an older sibling, in some weird way, it was like a note to my brother, just like, "Here's my take on this stuff, and I hope this can help you." But also, literally, the "I miss you" thing, it’s kind of letting go of being able to effect change, like, "All I can do is express these sentiments and that's it. I'm no longer here; I can’t go back to that".

Release

[edit]

During the recording of the song's final chorus where McMahan screams "I miss you", McMahan became physically sick due to the strain of yelling over the guitars.[15] He had all the lights turned off in the recording part of the room and the other band members only could hear his voice in the control room. As the recording ended, McMahan went screaming to the bathroom. Described as "dripping wet" by Walford,[23] he came out of the bathroom and said that he "got sick".[22] Soon after the recording, McMahan checked himself into a hospital and was diagnosed with clinical depression.[23][22]

McMahan quit the band after his depression diagnosis.[22] He stated that he was worried about the future and that the other band members weren't thinking about it.[24] The band had started writing more material for another potential release, but McMahan said that "it just didn't feel the same".[16] The band decided to disband after his departure.[25] As a result, a planned tour of Europe was canceled and the album received minimal promotion when it released.[26] It thus failed to attract an audience, make an impression on college radio, or chart in either the US or the UK.[27][28][29] The album went virtually unnoticed by the American music press or zines.[27] However, "Good Morning, Captain" was included in the soundtrack album of the 1995 movie Kids. Despite the song not appearing anywhere in the film, it was hand-picked by the movie's screenwriter Harmony Korine.[30]

Critical reception

[edit]

"Good Morning, Captain" initially went unnoticed by mainstream media due to the obscurity of its album. However, Albini wrote a review for the album in the magazine Melody Maker. He praised the album's originality and emotional intensity and gave the album "ten fucking stars".[31] According to biographer Scott Tennent, the laudatory review of the Melody Maker failed to attract commercial interest, but over the years succeeded in rescuing the album from an otherwise-assured relegation to obscurity.[32] Tennent also said that Slint's "Good Morning, Captain" became most well-known due to its later inclusion on the soundtrack album for the movie Kids.[33] One of the soundtrack's songs, The Folk Implosion's track "Natural One", achieved significant commercial success. "Natural One" reached #29 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #4 on the Billboard Modern Rock chart.[34] The popularity of "Natural One" helped ensure strong sales for the soundtrack album, thereby introducing "Good Morning, Captain" to a wider audience.[34] This exposure was significant for many listeners in 1995, who were likely unfamiliar with Slint.[34]

"Good Morning, Captain" received critical acclaim from critics when it received reowned interest. David Peschek of The Guardian compared "Good Morning, Captain" to Led Zeppelin for its epic scope, though not its bleak mood, writing: "the extraordinary [song] is [Slint's] "Stairway to Heaven", if it's possible to imagine Stairway to Heaven bleached of all bombast."[35] Many critics praised the final minute of the song where McMahan screams "I miss you", with Sameer Rao of WXPN called it to be "McMahan’s cathartic peak"[36] and Tennent calling it "a classic thrasher [with] McMahan shouting those three words over and over".[37] Greg Pratt of Decibel called the moment legendary, saying it leaves listeners deeply "devastated" by its conclusion.[17] Pajo has said that the song's last minute was still powerful years later, stating that "[I still] get the chills when it comes to that part. And that feeling doesn’t happen to me much in my old age".[38]

In the years following its subsequent resurgence in popularity, "Good Morning, Captain", for critics like Stuart Berman of Pitchfork and A.T. Bossenger of Treble, called it one of the best tracks of the 1990s. Berman named it the 148th best track of the 1990s, citing the tension of the song and atmosphere would be "impossible to recreate".[39] Bossenger called it 29th best songs of the 1990s underground music, calling it a "a strange, brooding track...it's easy to [be mistaken] that you’ve been transported to a different world".[40] Pitchfork also included the song in The Pitchfork 500, a book compiling the greatest songs from 1977 to 2006.[41]

Credits

[edit]

The album packaging omitted the band members' names.[42] The lineup credits below are adapted from The Great Alternative & Indie Discography (1999) by Martin C. Strong.[43]

References

[edit]

Citations

[edit]
  1. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 53–55.
  2. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 46.
  3. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 58.
  4. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 59.
  5. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 61.
  6. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 63.
  7. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 66–67.
  8. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 84.
  9. ^ Bangs 2014, 47:49–48:02.
  10. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 73–74, 81.
  11. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 83.
  12. ^ Tennent 2011, p. 74.
  13. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 95.
  14. ^ Carlson 2001, p. 369.
  15. ^ a b Irvin 2001, p. 640.
  16. ^ a b c d e f g Shteamer 2020.
  17. ^ a b Pratt 2020.
  18. ^ a b Maginnis.
  19. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 116–118.
  20. ^ a b Tennent 2011, pp. 124–125.
  21. ^ a b Tennent 2011, p. 116-118.
  22. ^ a b c d Simpson 2014.
  23. ^ a b Bangs 2014, 1:10:14–1:10:44.
  24. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 94.
  25. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 131–132.
  26. ^ Tennent 2011, p. 131.
  27. ^ a b Tennent 2011, p. 137.
  28. ^ Larkin 1998, p. 5075.
  29. ^ Bangs 2014, 1:20:28–1:20:50.
  30. ^ Lindsay 2017.
  31. ^ Albini 1991, p. 35.
  32. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 3, 83, 137–138.
  33. ^ Tennent 2011, p. 4.
  34. ^ a b c Tennent 2011, p. 113-115.
  35. ^ Peschek 2005.
  36. ^ Rao 2014.
  37. ^ Tennent 2011, pp. 125.
  38. ^ Wojtas 2014.
  39. ^ Berman 2010.
  40. ^ Bossenger 2015.
  41. ^ Currin 2008, pp. 106.
  42. ^ Olsen 2014.
  43. ^ Strong 1999, p. 579.

Sources

[edit]
[edit]