Welcome back to SONG-FREUD, the only music column that doubles as a deep cavity search of your favorite Bay Area music. A pro bono psychotherapy session available for public consumption, SONG-FREUD is also a public service. It is good karma to write, and good karma to read.
It doesn’t take a professional song analyst more than three or four shots of Lagavulin to realize that underneath the alarmingly joyful refrain of The Family Crest’s “The World,” some menacing forces are at work. “Build yourself an empty home, mold it out of soot and stone,” Liam McCormick advises as if this is the Home and Garden Network. But, seriously, who wants to live in a home made out of soot, which according to the New England Journal of Medicine, can significantly increase your chances of developing coronary heart disease? I needed to know what despicable deeds were at play here.
So I took three more shots of Lagavulin Scotch 16 Year (only $89.99 if you’re a BevMo Member!), flossed my teeth and paid a visit to my rabbi. NOTHING. NOT A CLUE. But then I had the butler bring me my YouTube, and I poured us each another shot, and we hunkered down to watch the OFFICIAL VIDEO for the Family Crest’s “The World.”
The explanation came immediately; it was like when Brad Pitt opens the box. Like, wham. The drummer cracks his knuckles, hits his drums and suddenly he’s in like 10 DIFFERENT PLACES. The whole band moves from the street to the forest to the city to a bunch of other seemingly-ideal make out spots. And I asked myself, who would need to move around that much, what kind of man needs, like many of us need water, needs to keep running?
Answer: Jason Bourne.
“Move away into the night,” McCormick pleads. “Pull the curtains up so tight.”
“All the things that he can do,” McCormick consoles, “Here he cannot hurt you.”
“He” is obviously Chris Cooper’s Conklin, who wants Bourne busted. The whole thing is kind of hella tragic, though, because there is no here here, as Gertrude Stein said. There is NOWHERE TO RUN.
So there’s one last question: Why is McCormick projecting himself onto Bourne, an incredibly sexy man who is really good at killing people with his hands? And who is his Conklin? What dastardly deed has McCormick done that compels him to channel his own sense of being arrested by an old white man with a cool-looking nose into the format of a pop song? To this, I have no answer. But indisputably, we need an ultimatum.
Listen to The Family Crest’s “The World” below: