Perhaps you find you have this in common with me: you listen to a song more for the lyrics than the music. Music is a large percentage of what motivates me to write poems that can remain silent on a page. Don’t get me wrong, I have genres of music I don’t like very much in general, and ones I prefer, and sometimes a vocalist or style is a deal-breaker. But much like I took you through Modern Baseball’s Holy Ghost over the summer, I’d like to take you on a lyrical journey through one of my favorite albums of 2016: The Altar.
The Altar is the sophomore record of artist Banks (full name Jillian Banks), a follow-up to her debut album, Goddess. While looking up other reviews of this record, I found a few different sources, including Pitchfork, slamming the record, asserting that Banks tries for an edginess she doesn’t achieve, and her lyrics and vocals are often too strange to captivate a listener. Though I’m certainly biased, being a Banks fan for almost two years now, I found this surprising, given that Banks’ weird lyrics and brutal vulnerability are what make her music appealing to me as a listener. As my friend and fellow writer Sage wrote in a blurb about the album, “…by the end of the album, you’ll realize that Banks’ desperation to prove that she is indeed, dangerous, becomes counterintuitive. Altar shows Banks more vulnerable than ever. But this type of vulnerability is accompanied by confidence and anger- a new sound for any woman in the music industry.”
It is particularly this “counterintuitive” blend of vulnerability and anger that makes me such a huge supporter of Banks and The Altar. Speaking for myself, I know how many times I can contradict myself in a day, through a trauma, or in general. I find a lot of her work, past and present, revolves around the push-and-pull of human relationships, how we inflict hurt one another and how we internalize hurt inflicted upon us. Banks speaks truth to the fluidity of passion, proving the complexity and coexistence of a myriad of damaged human emotion. Without any further rambling, here’s a selection of my favorite lyrics from each song on the album.
- Gemini Feed
“And to think you would get me to the altar/Like I follow you around like a dog that needs water.” The idea of an altar becomes something darker on this album. Originally, and in context, it draws to mind an altar of marriage—but something darker is going on, something sacrificial, cause the word altar to expand. This song contains a lot of beautiful imagery in terms of frustration and righteous anger, alluding to an abusive or manipulative relationship. - “I got two diamonds and a feather/Gimme three reasons why we ain’t together/I push my body through the floor.” Both metaphorically and literally, confidence and impudence meet to create this “self-love” tune.Fuck with Myself
- Lovesick
“Cause I'm lovesick/I ain't even ashamed, oh oh/And I'm hard up for some time in your sheets, oh oh/Would you been down to spend all your time with me?” While I have to say this isn’t a favorite on the album, nor do I find it particularly “poetic,” I do like the movement of (especially a female) artist proclaims she wants and enjoys sexually expressed love. - Mind Games
“Better look amusing cause my addiction to/These contradictions make it confusing/And if I walk away I'm scared I will find other muses/Cause I know you like olden days/I don't understand, you claim that I'm a handful/When you show up all empty-handed/The way you say you love me/Like you've just been reprimanded.” These lyrics call to mind Vernon’s article on muses, as it is clear that the relationship between the singer and the person sung-to is somewhat surface level and idealistic, rendering it unhealthy. This song digs into the platitude of loving the person versus loving an idea of a person, and like all conflicts, both sides seem to love and hate the “game.” Dating truly sucks. - Trainwreck
“I heard it from the state/They told me you were never gonna let me get away/And if you took me fishing, you will never give me bait/ I had to get away, I had to get away, I had to get away/Hey, you try to compensate/You thinking with your one brain, I should decapitate/You show me all your letters and I should've confiscated/Both my eyes were weighted, I had to get away.” This song holds a special place in my heart because it somehow combines catchy linguistic music, anger, desperation, and humor all in one go. The lyrics are somewhat disjointed, nonsensical pieces of rhyme without reason, connected through emotion coming through in the vocals. For whatever reason, I picture the Greek mythology characters of Tantalus and Sisyphus while listening to this track, probably due to the dead-end, repetitive, disillusioned relationship Banks refers to. - This is Not About Us
“What you told me/It never mattered/I never needed/This is not about/That you were tongue-tied/And what you sold me/I never bought it/This is not about/How I found out/That you were vacant/I never stood up/This is not about/All the times I tried to prove to you.” Like with “Lovesick,” I don’t find this track particularly poetic, but barer boned: the speaker has something to say and she’s saying it, point blank. However, this is another song in which I nod to Sage’s assessment of the album. Banks is telling the listener all about what the song is not, as if a sign of defensiveness, but simultaneously divulges intimate details while trying to put up said wall. - Weaker Girl“I'ma let you know what you don't wanna know/We just gonna see what we gonna see/Cause I'ma need a bad motherfucker like me.”
Another to-the-point song, a great confidence booster. It documents the singer’s movement and growth away from a toxic relationship and expectations of another. - Mother Earth“Underwater, consuming all my kind/Destined for alterations/And my mind ain't aligned for her daughter/I know I'm mother earth, I see the weather.”
This track is a reminder that you are a force of nature. The power to heal, the power to alter the places in which you don’t fit, or that don’t match you values, the power to express your sexuality, all lie within you. The song is self-intimate and poignant, sacrificial but self-sufficient. - Judas“Don't need you to make an effort, this should be effortless/Nothing can last forever, you're such a pessimist/I was your prized possession, and who was your exorcist?/Thought you was heaven-sent, you left for the hell of it.”
These particular lyrics, besides just sounding satisfactory to the ear, I believe to be more complicated than they appear. Personally, I think this is a call and response between two voices, representing either internal conflict or conflict between two people. Ultimately, this metaphorical song is all about betrayal, and this betrayal extends beyond a lover and into the strife of one’s own mind. - HauntWhat do you want? I wanna know/I brought a dandelion you could blow/While you stay mourning for something creative/But memories baited from your loneliness, I see.”
“Haunt” is another track that is more straightforward, speaking directly to the disappointment of loving and giving to someone who is more wrapped up in themselves, as you try to protect yourself from the damage. The image of someone handing a dandelion to another is childlike, reminisce of an innocent, altruistic type of love, making both the obsession of the speaker and the apathy of the spoken to heartbreaking. - Poltergeist “I started all the wars, I started all the wars/I've been getting messages from my deep waters/I'd be a resentful caretaker/Blame me for your false indicators/You mistaking all my mistakes for my crooked nature./Oh my god, I think I saw a ghost/Follow me everywhere I go/Don't even try to get creative/I smell a clown looking goofy, dressed up as a native.”
The Weeknd’s backing vocals on this song are haunting, speaking of a haunt. It was difficult to pick favorite lyrics for this song because like “Trainwreck,” it is one of my all-time favorites on the album, and the track in its entirety is a beautiful, poetic, honey-dripping-bitter way… of calling someone out on all of their bullshit, while also owning your faults. - To the Hilt“People say we're better off, you couldn't keep up/I still keep one broken piece/The one that fits in that chip on your shoulder/When we made our master plans/Is this where you thought we would be standing?”
One of the few true ballads of the album, the word “hilt” itself is intriguing, referring the handle of a weapon. Banks speaks of “dangerous love” while avoiding sounding trite through honesty and vulnerability. Perhaps she is referring to the same lover on some of her angry songs in this song—and true to the complexity of strong feelings, she expresses another side of her grief here. - 27 Hours“So you like the fear of falling/But you stand there looking dumb/Why'd you come here in the first place?/Baby, I am not the one/How can you not walk away after everything I've done?/It's been 27 hours since we even saw the sun/Since we even saw the sun.”
Oh, hey, have you ever been recklessly self-destructive and then had the audacity to feel annoyed that people have the nerve to love you through it? Well, hoo boy, do I have a relatable song for you! Don’t worry. I can relate too. When you go 27 hours or longer without seeing the sun, it might be understandable to start burning things for light.
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