1988 – if this is paradise, I wish I had a lawnmower
Talking Heads, '(Nothing But) Flowers'
With the selection of this song, I am stunned to find that both Kirsty MacColl and the World music genre in general are making their second appearances in my playlist after only four entries. (MacColl sings backing vocals here – you can definitely pick out her harmonies during the ‘highways and cars’ section.) But we are covering the late Eighties here, to be fair.
And besides, this song didn’t actually find its way into my collection until the mid-to-late-Nineties. It sits on an early Talking Heads’ Best Of CD which I remember receiving one Christmas. If memory serves, this arrived from Santa the same year as a Discman, along with a disc of the iconic ‘songs from Ally McBeal’ sung by Vonda Shepard.
Taken from what would be their final album, Naked, ‘(Nothing But) Flowers’ is Talking Heads’ ode to consumerism driven to a conclusion that’s both unnatural and, in its green-tinged lyrics, perfectly natural.
Advances in technology during the Eighties gave brands more means and ways to slap their logos on everything from bigger billboards to cable TV screens. And it transformed the way we shopped. In the States, economic excess and cultural pressure are what built ‘The Mall’ and turned it into a desirable destination. Basically, yuppies got us here, and they sent their wide-eyed teenagers to the mall with fistfuls of cash, to buy whatever neon-bright tat they could model on Monday at school.
These changes made everything a damn sight more convenient, too. Fast food. Fast fashion. Everything under one roof. The song’s main character loves it. In fact, as nature reclaims the shopping centres and car parks, the narrator yearns to get back to those heady days of 7-Elevens, where customers could grab coffee and pastries in an instant on their way to work. He doesn’t want this green and pastoral paradise; he wants the cutting convenience of a Flymo to put everything back the way it was.
The story of the song is a simple enough idea of good versus evil, but pitching the hyper-commercialisation of the late 80s against the lavish sprawl of nature evokes some really wonderful imagery. I love the simple storytelling in the mental image of a shopping mall covered in flowers. Telling the story from the point of view of the Dairy Queen-loving narrator adds another neat twist to the tale. Even the song’s regular refrain of ‘you got it’ feels catchy in that bit of your brain, because it’s an old commercial jingle for a certain fast food monarchy. It’s genius. Evil genius, but genius all the same.
That musical playfulness and playing down of what appears to be an apocalyptic event in the lyrics is why I love the song. It’s a vastly understated sense of humour best displayed by writers and artists trying to speak to disaffected youth, but without taking themselves too seriously. That’s why I could be a little bit surprised to find out the song’s recording line-up includes Johnny Marr, formerly of a band everybody took really seriously even though they themselves didn’t. (I’m pretty sure we can also nail down which guitar parts are his after a couple of listens, just like MacColl’s contribution.)
And it’s yet another of those Talking Heads compositions which, only a couple of save files previous, would’ve been just a joyful 15-minute jam session. There’s an early demo version of ‘Once in a Lifetime’ called ‘Right Start’ which to me sounds like it could just go on forever, just like ‘Flowers’ might have offered to at an earlier stage. This band could play, and in terms of musicianship, they’d stand tall (by the side of the road) in any record collection. Even as someone whose initial musical ventures never stretched as far as a fourth chord, I always respected their tight-knit talents.
I like the ending as well, as we leave the narrator ‘standing’ there, still trying to come to terms with what’s happened around them, with one final stab ringing out (presumably in a minor chord – it’s a downer). There’s something about a bleak ending with just a shred of hope that feels even more beautiful and empowering just because it’s there, no matter how microscopic. The narrator doesn’t care for nuts and berries, but maybe some of us would give up all the conveniences of our fast-paced society, so we can go gambol and frolic in the forest.
Just me then?