Stephen M. Deusner
July 29, 2008
1. "Wish the Worst" (Hitchhike to
Rhome, 1994)
Why am I here? I've got better things to do.
I could hang out on the
pier, down by the Hudson, sniffin' glue.
I guess I'm a loser, but I like
being miserable, swimming in sin.
I just wanna know where you been.
Unafraid to play the jerk, Miller breaks into his girlfriend's apartment,
then gets bored and angry when she stays out late. But with this final verse, he
transforms the song from a loser's lament into a troubling existential quandary
that would inform his songs for years to come.
2. "Doreen" (Hitchhike to Rhome,
1994/Wreck Your Life, 1995)
When I first met Doreen
She was barely seventeen.
She was drinking
whiskey sours in the bar.
The way she tossed 'em back
I would've had a
heart attack.
But as it is I let her drive my car.
If Miller didn't come across as so messed up himself, his songs about femme
fatales might seem a little too mean. Fortunately, he's usually the butt of his
own jokes. Doreen may be jailbait, but she can drink him under the table and
still convince him to give her the keys. A less lovesick man might've seen all
the heartache to come.
3. "If My Heart Was a Car" (Hitchhike to Rhome, 1994/Alive &
Wired, 2005)
And if my heart was a car
You would have stripped it down and sold it
off
To the greasy man in the salvage lot
As it is it's just a heart
No,
it ain't worth nothin'.
His heart gets crummy gas mileage and has no resale value.
4. "Barrier Reef" (Too Far to Care,
1997)
So I sidled up beside her
Settled down and shouted hi there
My
name's Stewart Ransom Miller
I'm a serial lady killer.
The ultimate Rhett Miller song, this epic in miniature shows a slightly
sloshed Miller picking up a woman in a bar called the appropriately named Empty
Bottle. In the end, nothing comes of it, but at least he she gives as good as
she gets: To his funnier-than-it-should-be pick-up line, "She said I'm already
dead, that's exactly what she said."
5. "Big Brown Eyes" (Wreck Your Life,
1995 / Too Far to Care, 1997)
I wish you were here
I wish I was too
I'll drink myself to
sleeplessness, I always do.
You could quote pretty much any line in this song ("I'm calling time and
temperature just for some company"), but few of Miller's lyrics express the
depth of his troubled heart as succinctly as these three lines, which adds a
pinch of humor to make it hurt just that much more.
6. "Victoria" (Wreck Your Life, 1995)
This is the story of Victoria Lee,
She started off on Percodan and
ended up with me.
She lived in Berkley till the earthquake shook her
loose.
She lives in Texas now where nothing ever moves.
One of the best opening verses ever.
7. "Bel Air" (Wreck Your Life,
1995)
And I should say this before the whole thing even starts,
I'll stomp a
mud hole in your heart.
As always, he knows how the whole thing will end, but can't stop himself from
starting it up anyway.
8. "Indefinitely" (Fight Songs,
1999)
Well, the room was Mediterranean
And the meaning was twofold
We got
busted by your mother
Though you're 29 years old.
As the Old 97's' career progressed, Miller left behind his serial lady
killing ways and started writing about the pitfalls of slightly more mature
relationships, like the embarrassment of being busted by your hook-up's mom.
9. "Rollerskate Skinny" (Satellite
Rides, 2001)
Love feels good when it sits right down
Puts its feet up on the table
and it sends a bowl around.
Just when Miller's love life seems to be on the upswing, he ends the songs
with what could be his epitaph: "I believe in love, but it don't believe in
me."
10. "Designs on You" (Satellite Rides,
2001)
I don't want to get you excited,
Except secretly I do.
I'd be
lying if I said I didn't have designs on you.
Just a few tracks after a sincere ode to popping the question ("A Question"),
Miller admits to having designs on an engaged woman, even promising he won't
tell a soul "except the people in the nightclub where I sing." That admission
raises the question: Does Miller behave this way so he can write songs about it,
or does he write songs that make him behave this way?
9:30 Club, 815 V St. NW; Tue., 7
p.m.; $20; 202-265-0930.
Express from the Washington Post