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Can you remember the worst place where someone broke up with you? I think mine was my own San Francisco flat, during a New Year鈥檚 Eve party I was throwing 鈥� there I stood, stranded at midnight, nursing my plastic cup of Andr茅. Maybe your painful dumping happened at a show by your favorite band, or in the hallway outside an important class or meeting, or at a fancy restaurant before the second course came. These days, most breakups seem to unfold virtually; I鈥檓 not sure if this is a merciful development. A devastating text message allows for better camouflage when the tears well up. But it鈥檚 a closed casket. Facing reality can be harder when those ruinous words aren鈥檛 delivered directly from the mouth you will never kiss again.
, the North Carolina-based indie-rock bard who has just released his fifth solo album, Manning Fireworks, locates its most poignant moment of heartbreak in a perfectly pedestrian location. I鈥檓 reading 鈥淵ou Don鈥檛 Know the Shape I鈥檓 In鈥� as a breakup song, though its wry poeticism fogs up the narrative a bit; the album abounds with stories of people who can鈥檛 maintain connections, and this one stands out as particularly tender, a love song sung after the reason for its existence has petered out. 鈥淲e sat under a half-mast McDonald鈥檚 flag,鈥� Lenderman sings in his crackly tenor as Shane McCord plays some mournfully deflating clarinet lines. 鈥淏roken birds tumble past my window.鈥� Parking lot birds, the grimiest, most depressing kind.
As always, the perspective in this song is as fractured as the imagery; it鈥檚 unclear whether he鈥檚 doing the dumping, or if the partner from whom he鈥檚 drifted is the active party, or if he鈥檚 imagining the heartache of a friend. The scene feels as real as a tumble of mixed-up emotions, but that little dash of gritty realism 鈥� the fast-food emblem serving as a witness 鈥� turns out to be borrowed from a meme: Images of lowered flags at the fast-food giant鈥檚 franchises have been reposted on social media to signify everything from the death of a dignitary to a . That鈥檚 Lenderman鈥檚 style: He鈥檚 a homespun magical realist, always throwing in something off-kilter to elevate his tales of lovable losers.
鈥淵ou Don鈥檛 Know the Shape I鈥檓 In鈥� is one of the quieter moments on Manning Fireworks, and possibly one of the more personal ones. Lenderman eschews straight-up confessional writing, but he and his ex (and 鈥� more people should be saying it 鈥� major songwriting influence) Karly Hartzman, both members of the beloved Asheville band , severed their romantic bond during a grueling year as both the band鈥檚 and Lenderman鈥檚 solo star were on the rise. The sweet thing about this ballad, surrounded by other songs about emotional failure from the edgelord-eviscerating 鈥淲ristwatch鈥� to the road-dog insomniac ramble 鈥淥n My Knees,鈥� is the way it forgives its wayward protagonists. Though someone punches a wall in the third verse, the song concludes in a disorganized flurry of woodwinds that scatters away any blame. The song itself heals the wound. 鈥淐larinet singin鈥� its lonesome duckwalk,鈥� Lenderman intones. 鈥淲hat else can you say to a friend with a broken heart?鈥� Hartzman鈥檚 singing harmony.
Comparing Lenderman鈥檚 account of a deflating dream with its clear inspiration, 鈥檚 1970 stomper 鈥�,鈥� exposes a multi-generational shift in rock鈥檚 prevalent attitudes. 鈥檚 portrait of a rogue in distress is a standout track on the Canadian American ensemble鈥檚 third album, Stage Fright, released at the height of its stardom and colored by the troubles a rise like theirs (and, though things are different these days, Lenderman鈥檚) can bring. After its -assisted debut Music from Big Pink and even more popular self-titled second album, the group was prospering financially and artistically, but heroin had infiltrated its ranks, with keyboardist Richard Manuel and bassist Rick Danko struggling particularly hard. The cleaner-living Robertson wrote 鈥淪hape鈥� as a vehicle for Manuel, eerily predicting his bandmate鈥檚 eventual breakdown. (Manuel died by suicide in 1986.)
Musically, the song is wildly uptempo in The Band鈥檚 signature disassembling way, a manic episode fed by swagger and desperation. The song鈥檚 narrator preaches and proclaims and frantically calls for the woman who鈥檚 left him, screaming out words of advice and supplication that culminate in a lost soul鈥檚 cry for justice: 鈥淣ow here I am back on the street for the crime of having nowhere to go!鈥� Manuel howls as 鈥檚 drums beat a quick path toward Garth Hudson鈥檚 churchy keyboards. Listening to it for the thousandth time, I suddenly realized its relationship to 鈥檚 classic 鈥溾�� 鈥� 鈥淚 can鈥檛 do what 10 people tell me to do,鈥� Redding declared in that missive from the end of the line, the triumph in his voice a last gasp in the face of defeat. He was trying to tell us the shape he was in, but in the end, he could only whistle.
In 鈥淒ock of the Bay,鈥� Redding is on his knees. Except for that rousing moment in the bridge, he鈥檚 not a menace to anyone but himself. The voice in 鈥淭he Shape I鈥檓 In,鈥� on the other hand, could wreak havoc 鈥� there鈥檚 a masculine power behind his disorganized fury that鈥檚 compelling and frightening. Lenderman imagines a guy like that in the title track of Manning Fireworks, the kind of marginal character whom people want around because he鈥檚 risky and adventurous; but the 25-year-old songwriter knows enough to issue a warning about him. "You was once a baby and now a jerk," he sings over a Hudson-style organ swell. 鈥淪tanding close to the pyre, manning fireworks.鈥� Lenderman knows that wild men like that can鈥檛 be trusted near explosives, including explosive emotions.
That鈥檚 the difference between Manning Fireworks and Stage Fright, though they remain spiritually intertwined. Robertson鈥檚 songwriting always incorporates grandeur: biblical references; evocations of a mythic, weird America; the healing potential of carnival and catharsis. In 鈥淭he Shape I鈥檓 In,鈥� he鈥檚 expressing serious doubts about his bandmate鈥檚 downward spiral, but he still turns it into a hero鈥檚 journey. Lenderman doesn鈥檛 really like heroes; even at his most imaginative, he exudes a certain modesty, and his characters stumble most drastically when they鈥檙e emboldened enough to overstep. (Consider the D.U.I.-injured seminarian flirting with the nurse caring for his wound 鈥� 鈥榯il it burns鈥� in the pathetic Christmas carol 鈥淩udolph.鈥�) This stance is personal 鈥� rooted, he鈥檚 said, in his own Catholic shame and his education at the hands of Southern naturalists like the late fiction writer Larry Brown and and Mike Cooley of the . But I think it鈥檚 also very indie rock.
The shift in attitude that began with indie titans like 鈥� , who , 鈥淕od, what a mess, on the ladder of success / when you take one step and miss the whole first rung,鈥� made rock less heroic 鈥� there was less to live up to within its mythologies, and a wider array of people were able to take them on. Women, in particular, started carving out a larger role within regional scenes and making a bigger mark globally. As much as Manning Fireworks recalls The Band and its West Coast counterpart, 鈥檚 Crazy Horse, Lenderman is unmistakably a scion of that less grandiose, more self-conscious era 鈥� Hood and Cooley learned much of their art from Westerberg and his peers.
In Wednesday, Hartzman expands on rock and roll鈥檚 glorious loser stories with a strong awareness of class and gender; her songs are rich portraits of (chosen or inherited) families and communities, often damaged but surviving by the skin of their teeth: The kids who witness all kinds of mischief in the band鈥檚 鈥�,鈥� for example, ultimately conclude, 鈥渨e had to add it to the tab.鈥� The songs on Manning Fireworks are more narrowly focused, but they do make room for points of view like Hartzman鈥檚. It strikes me as almost unbearably tender that his 鈥淵ou Don鈥檛 Know The Shape I鈥檓 In鈥� doesn鈥檛 name a wrongdoer in its unraveled romance. Even if the lyrics have nothing to do with his and Hartzman鈥檚 own experience, as a songwriter, Lenderman keeps the 鈥渟he said鈥� side of the story in view as he tells his (narrator鈥檚) own. That鈥檚 something Robertson didn鈥檛 do in 鈥淭he Shape I鈥檓 In鈥�; the woman is absent, part of the hopelessness at the heart of the song鈥檚 crisis.
Maybe the more modest, less alpha attitude Lenderman projects isn鈥檛 generational. Robertson could write painfully tender heartbreak ballads: Witness 鈥溾�� from 1975, maybe The Band鈥檚 most nakedly emotional moment. But the modesty this new rock hope projects inspires me; it leaves different doors open. As Lenderman sings in 鈥淪he鈥檚 Leaving You,鈥� another song about heartbreak and the dumb behavior that can cause it, 鈥渨e鈥檝e all got work to do.鈥�
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