Jabberwock - Southland


UNDERSTANDING I was walking where white people go To pretend they live in danger I stopped to look at my pale reflection But I only saw a stranger While I did the things my body wanted My conscience hit the wall Those delicate eyes staring back at me Were still waiting for the call Of understanding Try to understand Try to understand Try to understand the world this time There are places where not even God will go Because you can’t get police assistance If you want to get ahead in this bonanza You’d better be blessed with persistence It’s dog eat dog in the rat race While the cool cats monkey around I’ve got a paralyzed look of fear on my face As I keep waiting for the sound Of understanding Try to understand Try to understand Try to understand the world this time You can’t get anything anywhere these days Without a carcinogen in it I find myself hard-pressed to stop And catch my breath for a minute I’m the not first to feel this way And I won’t be the last to sound the alarm But I’m gonna get a gun and go berserk in a mall If I don’t experience, experience the charm Of understanding Try to understand Try to understand Try to understand the world this time This time Can’t get anything Anywhere These days c 1994 by Wishnefsky, Dave Rodgers, and Todd Jameson Dave – drums Todd – vocals Wishnefsky – vocals, bass, acoustic guitars, electric guitars, synthesizer, samples COMMENTS We recorded different versions of this song. We considered putting it in more of a pop song format because we felt it had a strong hook. But, in the end, we did it the way we thought it would have the most emotion and power. I always thought Understanding highlighted many strong points of the band: two good lead singers, meaningful lyrics, dynamics, power, atmosphere, and a sense of adventure. I enjoyed played this song live and always felt like we took the audience on a bit of journey. There was a nice dynamic between the end of the loud section into the quiet, moody outro. Todd and I first played the song live at a little poetry club, I think before we even recorded it properly. It was spoken word night, but they indulged our pressing desire to play Understanding since it was my wife’s birthday. Not that it’s a happy, celebratory tune, but it seemed to fit the prevalent word-smith atmosphere. Of course, those self-absorbed downtrodden poets just sat there like plastic flowers and stared at us like we were lepers in need of a hug. At least Tina enjoyed it and had a nice birthday. Wishnefsky

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