This Place is a Prison - The Postal Service
Greetings everyone, to another post on Have You Heard This?, where takes, thoughts, and tunes, are shared and reviewed. I'm excited for this post today, as we'll be talking about one of my favorite songs from a very formative band of mine, The Postal Service.
The group, consisting of singer Benjamin Gibbard (of Death Cab For Cutie fame), producer Jimmy Tamborello, and background vocalist Jenny Lewis, released their one and only album Give Up, in 2003. No follow up album was released, or needed, as thought by the band, which is an interesting take, given how well Give Up did. They then regrouped to tour for the album's 20th anniversary, in tandem with Death Cab for Cutie, who toured their entire album Transatlanticism (my personal favorite) for the same reason (I flew to LA for one day to catch this show - it was fantastic!).
But back to what we're here for - this song is so melancholy compared to the upbeat quirkiness of the album as a whole. "This Place is a Prison" - the title alone, sets the scene for what to expect. The deep static-like sounds are juxtaposed by light-sounding keys running in the background of the saddest lyrics that will come your way. Electric piano comes in slowly, and a bit easy to miss if you aren't paying full attention. Drums follow suit in the last third of the song, bringing the instrumentals to life (again, ironic for such a depressing song), and an accordion follows suit to bring it all home (not often seen in modern music, but that's my take, Jimmy Tamborello's a creative genius).
I am such a huge fan of Gibbard's lyricism, for both Death Cab and The Postal Service. Despite the same person working on these projects, each band is different, with their own vibes to match. "This Place is a Prison" is a needle in the haystack, if you will, the lone heart-wrenching song in an album of warm synth and lighter-sounding instruments that are easy on the ears.
"This place is a prison And these people aren't your friends Inhaling thrills through $20 bills And the tumblers are drained and then flooded Again and again"
"There's guards at the on ramps, armed to the teeth, And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound, But you are not permitted to leave"
Gibbard's lyrics in the beginning feel like a warning depicting the big-shot fame lifestyle. All the people you'll meet that will just be empty bodies, no connection, no friendships, with the only thing you have in common is your social circles- and cocaine. The last lyric is cyclical - the lifestyle continues; how lonesome is it to live a life so unfulfilling and monotonous? To be in a room full of people but feel alone and empty, to see blurred faces passing by, all to happen over and over.
The secons verse follows the first in recognizing the main character's stuck where they are. Gibbard depicts being blocked where they are, and despite roaming from one place to another, they can never truly be freed from this lifestyle. Maybe that's why this place...is a prison.
"I know there's a big world out there Like the one that I saw on the screen In my living room late last night It was almost too bright to see And I know that it's not a party If it happens every night Pretending there's glamour and candelabra When you're drinking by candlelight"
To see what you could've had splay out right in front of you, as you live the same, sad days continuously brings such a deep, abandoning feeling, with "it was almost too bright to see" seeming like this is an unachieveable reality for our character. The party line (great Belle and Sebastian song btw) reinforces that this character is having these thrills so often, that it may not even be considered a party anymore in efforts to keep up the allure of this big-shot lifestyle. Faking the glory of it all, when in reality, there's misery in each day, and real life seeps in, needing substances to help take a break from it all.
"What does it take to get a drink in this place?
What does it take, how long must I wait?
What does it take to get a drink in this place?
What does it take, how long must I wait?
How long must I wait?"
The "what does it take to get a drink in this place" line is often said by impatient bar patrons, waiting for their drink of choice. However here, though it does depict impatience, it feels rather it is an impatience for a distraction - a place to get away. The repetition of both phrases ties in the desperation of wanting to escape, the second one seeming like begging. "How long must I wait?" - can be elicited as both waiting for their drink, or waiting for a change to come, and either way, this continues to soldify the misery the main character continues to feel. They are breaking, distressed, hopeless for a change, to be in the world they see everyone else living.
There was a point in time, even now, where I have related to this song on a heavy basis. The pain of being where you are and not where you want to be, while watching life happen all around you. Each and every day carries a layer of suffering, and it doesn't go away as they pass. Emptiness, loneliness, anguish, everything- you live the same reality until something happens. But when will that be? how long will that take? The anxiety builds until it arrives, but in the meantine, all joy is lost until something comes along or unless you force a hand in something new. You're drained and exhausted, and energy is hard to find, yet you carry on.
Whoops. Sorry! This song gets to me.
Nonetheless, as sad as it is, "This Place is a Prison" is a great track Music is so powerful with how universal it is, and you may never know what others go through, whether similar or different to you. Here's hoping that this song gives you a chance to explore The Postal Service, and I'm glad that I asked you today, Have You Heard This?
Cheers!
-HYHT?