Here is the song (radio edit I think) but I am referring to the album version in this post.

“I know that there are bad forces. I know that there are forces out there that bring suffering to others and misery to the world. But I want to be the opposite force. I want to be the force which is truly for good.” – John Coltrane

Let’s be honest, if you are in mortal danger and you want a fictional superhero to save you, who are you going to call? Are you going to call Batman while he works out his existential childhood billionaire angst? Or are you going to call the ever-temperamental Wolverine who would shout at you for bothering him? No, you are going to call Superman – a force who is truly for good. But we don’t like Superman do we? As ‘post-modernists’ we absolutely cannot stand him and want to see his downfall. Anyway, enough! Rant over!

The quote above is by John Coltrane – a man who although one of the greatest musicians of all time, acknowledged that his purpose was greater than his gift. I used to think fictional Superman’s greatest gift was his superhuman abilities, but I have come to the conclusion that this is not so. It is Superman’s character and humility despite his superhuman abilities that are his real strength. Yet it is deeper than this according to this song. Don’t settle for internal smugness of character and humility for character and humilities sake – to do so would make you a ‘Clark Kent’. Be like ‘Superman’ and know that it is when you are at the height of your power and potential that all this humility and character can be put to its greatest use. That is how I listen to this song.

Eric Robertson has this way of giving himself wholeheartedly to his songs. This song literally pulsates on the energy of his vocals, fizzing around like a shaken bottle of Coca-Cola when the cap is partially twisted off. Then, as the song dies down and the instrumentation takes over, with Robertson’s adlib chants – na-na-na-na-na naa-naa-naa naa-naa-naaaaaaaa – on the fourth and final ad-lib, the most majestically timed piano lick sends the bottle cap sky high as if it were the sonic embodiment of Superman taking flight.

There is something about that piano lick that resounds on every level and that makes me very very very happy. Honestly, I live for that piano lick.

Here is the song (36:35 to 40:05)

They say the millennial generation is chronically self-obsessed, that we spend so much time in our heads that we never end up enjoying ourselves – even when surrounded by others.

But self-reflection is a good thing right? Well at what point does self-reflection stop being a good thing and morph into some form of neurosis? This is a difficult question that requires (ironically) self-reflection, some inner dialogue that gets to the bottom of what it is we really want, what it is that we’re searching for, or more often than not, what is the source of the pain that’s hurting us right now but that we are wilfully ignoring.

Waiting Outside is one rappers dramatisation of the feeling that the deeper part of us is desperately trying to converse with the exterior part of us, the part that is busy interacting with the world. Through this dramatisation a fundamental truth is communicated – that the nature of human existence is relational because look, we even have a relationship with ourselves.

Think of the musical layers of Waiting Outside as the metaphorical soundtrack playing in the psychologist’s room (just like a generation before might have had Bruce Springsteen’s Dancing In The Dark playing as it’s soundtrack). The intro signifying the entry into the shrink’s mystical chair where the subconscious meets the conscious, where it feels kind of weird yet familiar. Then the chorus where Oddisee’s singing communicates an angst, some deep yearning. And then the drums in the final chorus are like the deep anger and confusion that surrounds the pain we harbour. Indeed, we all tend to do some form of mental or emotional thrashing about in preparation for real healing to begin.

But just as the patient gets over this hurdle, the next journey begins with the mind finding some other cunning and elaborate way to deceive itself, as if life was following some different rhythm entirely…