Interpretations:I Can Hear You
- Song
- Lyrics
- Interpretations
- Credits
- Guitar Tab
- Bass Tab
- Chronology
Contents
- 1 MTV Unplugged
- 2 Interpretation 2
- 3 Interpretation 3
- 4 Interpretation 4
- 5 Interpretation 5
- 6 Overthinking it
- 7 Interpretation 7
- 8 Depressing
- 9 Interpretation 9
- 10 Interpretation 10
- 11 Communicating?
- 12 Tobin Sprout
- 13 Emotional Distance
- 14 Interpretation e^2
- 15 Audio Quality
- 16 Deeper metaphor for the ways audio technologies are used.
MTV Unplugged[edit]
I have no interpretation to offer for the lyrics directly, but given the method of production, is this not the ultimate 'unplugged' (re: the MTV craze of the early 90's) song.
Interpretation 2[edit]
It seems to me like this is just Flansburgh spouting off phrases that might be heard in the faint, tinny, just barely audible tones that characterize this recording. Someone talking over a bad connection, an apartment intercom, a drive-thru restaurant box, the muffled voice of a car alarm -- we have all struggled to make out another human voice in these and other situations. Yet we do -- we can just barely hear that other person -- and so the song becomes a song about connections made against incredible odds, people reaching out to each other in an increasingly technologized world. It's beautiful, really. Radiohead would be proud. Plus it's got the ill tuba.
Interpretation 3[edit]
For Octofish, because he heard me. Lines 596-606 from Robert Browning's poem, "Paracelsus":
- At times I almost dream
- I too have spent a life the sage's way,
- And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance
- I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
- Ages ago; and in that act, a prayer
- For one more chance went up so earnest, so
- Instinct with better light let in by death,
- That life was blotted out - not so completely
- But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
- Dim memories, as now, when once more seems
- The goal in sight again.
When I read these lines of Browning's, I had the rare feeling I'd been heard, which was odd (and the picture abruptly changed), because the author died over a hundred years ago. Later, when you wrote, "Hope springs eternal" and "I can hear you" on my vanity page, the connection in my mind between you and Browning was immediate.
The irony here is that despair also springs eternal, which is to say irony itself springs eternal, and that it's beautiful we all die frustrated and sad.
So it goes.
Still: I just worked a double shift which ended at 7 a.m., and although I wished for a graceful end to my life more than once before sunrise, I was glad when I read your comments I had survived the night.
That is my interpretation of the TMBG song, "I Can Hear You." --Flux 12:50, May 30, 2004
Interpretation 4[edit]
More than a song about connections, I think it's a comment on the state of technology and its failures to deliver on promises. We've all strained to hear a message, poorly-reproduced by some technological gizmo, that sounds like "I Can Hear You." I think They are pointing out the irony that, despite 119 years of progress, most recordings today still sound no better than Edison's original wax cylinder recordings. (Is it doubly ironic that they then recorded this on a CD?) --Saxifrage 04:08, September 3, 2004
- I disagree with the above interpretation. My feeling is that it's all phrases we are able to say or hear thanks to Edison. Because of his inventions, our cars can talk, we can call home from a plane, we can buzz our buddies into our apartments. If it weren't for him, the best we'd have is recordings like, well, this song. --Brian Q 00:32, February 27, 2005
Interpretation 5[edit]
This is TMBG, remember, so it's irony. Yes, we still endure barely audible voices, but I think they also want to convey the idea that despite the great efforts man has made to apply technology to the transmission of the human voice in a variety of circumstances, what we have to say is often more banal than what the inventors might have imagined?
This song is one of their best, marrying theme and style with a great tune, like "Mink Car" or "Reprehensible". --Balb Kubrox 17:28, January 31, 2006
Overthinking it[edit]
I seriously think that you guys are just looking WAY too into this. I believe that it is about all those places where you can hardly hear or understand someone, such as at a drivethrough. That's it, plain and simple. --ArAn 13:56, 1 Feb 2006 (EST)
Interpretation 7[edit]
Well, think about where the song was recorded. I for one think that it's a person using an old telephone back when they were first invented. He's calling proudly, telling the person on the other end that he can hear him/her. —Preceding unsigned comment added by 69.141.107.202 (talk) 16:45, May 1, 2006
Depressing[edit]
this song always depresses me. just the way it sounds. —Preceding unsigned comment added by Thestatuegotmehigh (talk • contribs) 15:24, December 27, 2006
Interpretation 9[edit]
This song seems like an homage to recordings and audio systems everywhere, appropriately set in a far off tunnel with plenty of feedback and hiss. But maybe it's just me —Preceding unsigned comment added by 67.52.151.134 (talk) 01:12, October 2, 2008
Interpretation 10[edit]
C'mon, all. This is TMBG. In a very, very early audio recording studio (sans electricity, even); indeed, in such a monumental and historic venue, the Johns record a song about crappy audio reproduction.
It's epic. —Preceding unsigned comment added by 65.123.126.106 (talk) 12:44, October 12, 2010
Communicating?[edit]
All of the above comments plus, in spite of advances in technical devices are we really communicating any better? I can just barely hear you -- especially when I'm doing all the talking. Such a beautiful, wistful little song! —Preceding unsigned comment added by 76.122.174.64 (talk) 15:12, October 30, 2010
Tobin Sprout[edit]
I love this song. The production quality and lead vocal remind me of a Tobin Sprout GBV song. That is a good thing. :) —Preceding unsigned comment added by 173.66.176.101 (talk) 00:49, March 18, 2015
Emotional Distance[edit]
This is my first post to the TMBW site.
I think the song is about how machines have replaced a lot of human interaction and humans have essentially distanced themselves from each other with machines. The viper alarm is a machine providing a pre-recorded message; the call from the plane is actually a machine (the phone) delivering the message from far away - and the line "I'll call you when I get there" suggests that even when the speaker is closer, they will still be communicating with a machine separating them; buzzing a person in involves talking to them through a speaker box; and taking/giving an order at a fast food shop also involves talking through a speaker box. All of these involve communication through some machine rather than direct face-to-face communication, literally meaning there are machines in between us, distancing us from each other.
The line "I can just barely hear you" doesn't literally mean that I am having a hard time hearing (though this very well can be the case when communicating through machines, especially long-distance), but rather is suggestive of how much we have mentally and emotionally distanced ourselves from one another. The real "us" is not coming across through communication. Another thing common about all of the lines is that not only is the communication happening through machines, but everything being said is about the machines or other external objects (talking about the car, the plane, the buzzer, the fast food order); no real, personal communication is happening. Hence, we can barely hear each other, as we are not communicating our real selves to one another - most of what we say is static distorting our true feelings and thoughts. Finally, the old style recording just adds to that feeling of distance. --Created A Madman (talk) 21:04, 15 November 2018 (EST)
Interpretation e^2[edit]
Every time I listen to this song, I understand everything while it is being played and have no idea when it finishes. And this is beautiful. It might be (365-(1.2*52))*0.75))*11 ~> 2000 times. I'm pretty sure that I will understand it when I reach 20000. I will inform you when I do.
Audio Quality[edit]
It's a song about different situations where audio quality would be severely lacking. Classic TMBG.
Deeper metaphor for the ways audio technologies are used.[edit]
Telephones and phonographs initially were both "disruptive" technologies unlike anything else at the time. One brought the voice to far places. The other brought it into the future. You could hear someone without hearing them speaking in the here and now. Nowadays, hearing a low-quality, barely intelligible recording or transmission is almost mundane. While looking at the evolution and different implementations of audio technology is certainly intriguing, it's no longer a novelty.
Historically: "Wow! I can hear you!"
Currently: "I can hear you... I can barely hear you."
All the tidbits can be taken as filler that roughly translates to "I can hear you."
"This vehicle is protected by Viper." Viper car alarms were known for their high sensitivities and using pre-recorded voice samples to deter people from actually breaking in and playing a louder alarm. The sensors detected a person nearby. They can "hear" you. In reality, Viper (the company) has nothing to do with you. They sold you a fancy synthesizer. The best their product can do is get people's attention, and when's the last time you've heard a car alarm and thought "Hey, some poor sap's having their car broken into!"? Those things go off if you walk too heavily.
"Guess where I am, I'm calling from the plane. I'll call you when I get there." Pay phones on planes were expensive and didn't offer much clarity. The speaker was clearly impressed by the ability to wirelessly call someone from mid-air, but wasn't satisfied with the garbled quality. The entire point of the conversation was that even from the plane, they can hear you.
"You won't hear a buzz, but I'm buzzing you in." "Buzzing someone in" doesn't necessarily result in a literal buzz. Sometimes, you just hear a quiet "click" as the latch opens. The whole point of this line is to let your guest know that you're unlocking the door to your apartment building. Yet it refers to the language of audio equipment – a buzzer is but a rudimentary synthesizer – and the fact that the apartment tenant hears the right guest over the intercom. (Could this also be a reference to synthesizer trends in the 90s? Sample synths were cheaper and more popular than ever in the 90s – they weren't limited to 'buzzes' and 'beeps'. However, the acoustic instruments they sampled weren't really convincing)
"What's your order? I can super-size that. Please bring your car around" The drive-thru cashier is announcing, on three separate occasions, that he can hear you, each time disguised as a pleasantry. "What's your order" – If you can hear me, I can hear you here. Please tell me which items on the menu you'd like us to prepare and sell to you. "I can super-size it" – I was told to say this. You could have asked for a large or super size to begin with. I know you might say no. But the point is that I got your meal order. I heard you. It's more personable than a simple "OK." "Please bring your car around" – I got your order. I heard you. You will hear me more clearly at the first window, where I will take your card.
Of course, intentional use of "low-fidelity" sound is still done for stylistic effect, but most of these technologies are rarely lo-fi nowadays. Digital VOIP services are clear throughout the world. Voice-based alarm systems, such as fire alarms, have clearer quality. Drive-thru and apartment intercoms haven't improved that much, but similar technologies like RING security systems offer clearer qualities.
And a lot of what technically counts as "low-fidelity" nowadays aims to either improve the sound in some way (such as boosting bass, taking advantage of the proximity effect, removing interference and spit clicks, auto-tuning vocals, etc.) or serve as a mere means of sculpting the sound (distortion on electric guitars, DSP banks on software synthesizers, chopped-and-screwed EDM vocals, etc.) – the former still preserves (or even enhances) the clarity of the sound, and the latter isn't trying to be a faithful original but in fact an all-new sound style – one that will be fixed in a perfect digital record in the end, that can be degraded in its own right from that record by tinny speakers.
But low-fidelity audio communication is a fact of life, even with all our technological advances. It was even more of one in the 90s and before. It's something that's not just subjectively unpleasant to some (I don't mind it and think it can sound cool personally), but objectively interferes with communication... and causes people to spend an inordinate amount of time discussing how well they can hear each other.
TMBG's decision to use an old recording technology, one first successfully executed by Edison himself (though inspired by similar recording devices that couldn't play back the waves they etched), is fitting. It didn't even use electricity (odd for an Edison invention...), and you only had one take per recording.
It makes you think about how grateful you are to hear people. Yet it also makes you contemplate exactly what it all means. Are you hearing the person, or are you hearing the influence that person has on a machine in one way or another? What's the line between recording something to play it back immediately somewhere else and just transmitting it (you can analyze digital audio transmission either way!). Are we an enlightened, transcended, post-cultural species, or are we still very much culture-bound, using technology to wiggle drumheads in a manner that slightly resembles the input of tongue flaps and throat buzzes meant to trigger the hormone-activated asynchronous digital comparator circuitry up above?
No matter what... it can still be a surprise to hear someone in this way. 99.160.153.214 13:48, 12 August 2024 (EDT)