This song is an anomaly. It is not only a much more straightforward narrative than any other Jeff Mangum song, but also the only one to surface after the trauma he faced in the wake of Aeroplane's success.
Though very little exists in the way of biography on Jeff, recordings of song explanations like this one point to the obvious fact that in the years preceding his much-obsessed-over musical career, he was living his life on the ropes. At the beginning of “Wishful eyes” he states “I wrote this song when was getting out of Seattle …when I first got back … that was … my life was coming apart at the time.” He pauses and chuckles ruefully. “I was really bad then. I was fucked.”
Anyone familiar with Jeff’s art, lyrics and life knows that his entire existence has been riddled with trauma. Everything he produces comes out as a fermented, childhood fever-dream, bottled up for years and allowed to grow into something strange, terrible, and not-a-little beautiful too. As such, most of his material seems to be autobiography, thickly shrouded in hallucinatory extended metaphor. “Little Birds” was created at a time in his life where he felt very exposed, which does much to explain its uncharacteristically direct approach. However, what immediately jumps out at me about this song is something that didn’t occur to most of my friends, probably because I’m the only one who’s gay.
“Do you really want the burning hell that we believe in?” is a question directed at the boy in the song who is having a new, wonderful, strange feeling welling up inside him like little birds. This question is followed by a lecture on the evils of homosexuality and its consequences, namely that his father was so grieved by his son’s sexual alignment that he killed him with a hammer.
I think this is the same father who hurled a garbage can at Jeff’s mother when she stabbed him with a fork, while Jeff and his brother would “Lay and learn what each other’s bodies were for.”
Two brothers, clinging on to each other for dear life, trying to survive a “not-so-very-nice situation,” inseparable, like a two-headed boy.
Most importantly, on Jeff addresses “Two-Headed Boy part two” directly to his father. After listening to “Little Birds” I read the lyrics with a sickeningly clear eye:
“Love to be with a brother of mine
How he'd love to find your tongue in his teeth
In a struggle to find secret songs that you keep wrapped in boxes so tight
Sounding only at night as you sleep
In my dreams you're alive and you're crying, as your mouth moves in mine soft and sweet, rings of flowers around your eyes and I'll love you for the rest of your life...
Brother see we are one in the same
And you left with your head filled with flames
And you watched as your brains fell out through your teeth
Push the pieces in place
Make your smile sweet to see
Don't you take this away
I'm still wanting my face on your cheek”
Jeff watched his dad do it. Jeff watched his brother’s brains fall out through his teeth, then pushed the pieces of his head back together in an effort to fix him. Wanting his face on his cheek … God, it makes you cry. One online reviewer observed:
“While the lyrics to "Little Birds" are certainly unsettling, Mangum's voice on the recording is perhaps even more so. Mangum has always pushed the limits of his vocal range, but on "Little Birds," the high notes are so pregnant with pain that one can barely listen to them without wincing. It's a powerful song, and not difficult to see why Mangum chose not to release any of his post-Aeroplane material-- it's too purely despondent to be nearly as affecting as his more emotionally complex material.”
Assuming Jeff’s father is still alive is at all aware of his musical career (neither of which are very likely, all things considered) I can’t even imagine the ruin his life is. He killed his own son because he loved him; loved him so much that he couldn’t stand to see him as a homosexual – something he hated deeply enough to kill, “knowing God in heaven could have, never could forgive him.”
This does much to explain the death and sex motif found through Jeff’s catalog. I might also point out that Jeff grew up in Louisiana, and that Louisiana Baptists are somewhat famous for their … uncompromising … outlook.
Which brings me to the end of the song; where Jeff’s father, after giving his son vigorous but fortunately non-lethal beating, subjects him to a forced baptism – during which Jeff speculates that drowning might not be such a bad way to go.
Jeff’s thoughts on suicide are a whole new can of worms. See “Song Against Sex” for starters.
@mrwuggs
His father was a PhD from Oklahoma State, and a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech.
@mrwuggs
His father was a PhD from Oklahoma State, and a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech.
" Jim received a B.A. and M.A. from North Texas State University and a Ph.D. from Oklahoma State University. He was a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech University School of Business Administration from 1970 until his retirement."
" Jim received a B.A. and M.A. from North Texas State University and a Ph.D. from Oklahoma State University. He was a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech University School of Business Administration from 1970 until his retirement."
This song is an anomaly. It is not only a much more straightforward narrative than any other Jeff Mangum song, but also the only one to surface after the trauma he faced in the wake of Aeroplane's success.
Though very little exists in the way of biography on Jeff, recordings of song explanations like this one point to the obvious fact that in the years preceding his much-obsessed-over musical career, he was living his life on the ropes. At the beginning of “Wishful eyes” he states “I wrote this song when was getting out of Seattle …when I first got back … that was … my life was coming apart at the time.” He pauses and chuckles ruefully. “I was really bad then. I was fucked.”
Anyone familiar with Jeff’s art, lyrics and life knows that his entire existence has been riddled with trauma. Everything he produces comes out as a fermented, childhood fever-dream, bottled up for years and allowed to grow into something strange, terrible, and not-a-little beautiful too. As such, most of his material seems to be autobiography, thickly shrouded in hallucinatory extended metaphor. “Little Birds” was created at a time in his life where he felt very exposed, which does much to explain its uncharacteristically direct approach. However, what immediately jumps out at me about this song is something that didn’t occur to most of my friends, probably because I’m the only one who’s gay.
“Do you really want the burning hell that we believe in?” is a question directed at the boy in the song who is having a new, wonderful, strange feeling welling up inside him like little birds. This question is followed by a lecture on the evils of homosexuality and its consequences, namely that his father was so grieved by his son’s sexual alignment that he killed him with a hammer.
I think this is the same father who hurled a garbage can at Jeff’s mother when she stabbed him with a fork, while Jeff and his brother would “Lay and learn what each other’s bodies were for.”
Two brothers, clinging on to each other for dear life, trying to survive a “not-so-very-nice situation,” inseparable, like a two-headed boy.
Most importantly, on Jeff addresses “Two-Headed Boy part two” directly to his father. After listening to “Little Birds” I read the lyrics with a sickeningly clear eye:
“Love to be with a brother of mine How he'd love to find your tongue in his teeth In a struggle to find secret songs that you keep wrapped in boxes so tight Sounding only at night as you sleep
In my dreams you're alive and you're crying, as your mouth moves in mine soft and sweet, rings of flowers around your eyes and I'll love you for the rest of your life...
Brother see we are one in the same And you left with your head filled with flames And you watched as your brains fell out through your teeth Push the pieces in place Make your smile sweet to see Don't you take this away I'm still wanting my face on your cheek”
Jeff watched his dad do it. Jeff watched his brother’s brains fall out through his teeth, then pushed the pieces of his head back together in an effort to fix him. Wanting his face on his cheek … God, it makes you cry. One online reviewer observed:
“While the lyrics to "Little Birds" are certainly unsettling, Mangum's voice on the recording is perhaps even more so. Mangum has always pushed the limits of his vocal range, but on "Little Birds," the high notes are so pregnant with pain that one can barely listen to them without wincing. It's a powerful song, and not difficult to see why Mangum chose not to release any of his post-Aeroplane material-- it's too purely despondent to be nearly as affecting as his more emotionally complex material.”
Assuming Jeff’s father is still alive is at all aware of his musical career (neither of which are very likely, all things considered) I can’t even imagine the ruin his life is. He killed his own son because he loved him; loved him so much that he couldn’t stand to see him as a homosexual – something he hated deeply enough to kill, “knowing God in heaven could have, never could forgive him.”
This does much to explain the death and sex motif found through Jeff’s catalog. I might also point out that Jeff grew up in Louisiana, and that Louisiana Baptists are somewhat famous for their … uncompromising … outlook.
Which brings me to the end of the song; where Jeff’s father, after giving his son vigorous but fortunately non-lethal beating, subjects him to a forced baptism – during which Jeff speculates that drowning might not be such a bad way to go.
Jeff’s thoughts on suicide are a whole new can of worms. See “Song Against Sex” for starters.
God, I’m going to go throw-up or something.
nice work
nice work
@mrwuggs His father was a PhD from Oklahoma State, and a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech.
@mrwuggs His father was a PhD from Oklahoma State, and a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech.
" Jim received a B.A. and M.A. from North Texas State University and a Ph.D. from Oklahoma State University. He was a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech University School of Business Administration from 1970 until his retirement."
" Jim received a B.A. and M.A. from North Texas State University and a Ph.D. from Oklahoma State University. He was a faculty member in the Department of Economics at Louisiana Tech University School of Business Administration from 1970 until his retirement."