Wonderlick's "Donner Lake"

Last August, I wrote about the apartment building I used to live in, which had been an opera house and the site of a panic that killed twenty six people.  Here's a link to that article.  And here's a link to everything you'd want to know about that tragedy.

I don't know how well I explained my feelings about some of the most joyful years of my life happening in the location of that kind of anguish, but this weekend (and Saturday was the 105th anniversary of that event) my randomized phone playlist dealt up a song that captures that uneasy balance so well that I feel compelled to evangelize on that song's behalf.

And yeah, that thing you just thought, which was something along the lines of, "I don't really love it when music snobs foist their unsolicited opinions on me," I'm aware.  I'm painfully conscious of that reaction, and yet I'm pushing ahead because this set of lyrics, which I had to transcribe from the recording because they do not appear anywhere on the web and my CD booklet is missing, captures so perfectly the breadth of human experience within its simple framework, not sharing it seems immoral. 

That, and the other thing I was writing this week isn't really going so well.

And listen, I'm not an obscurephile at heart.  In fact, I hereby renounce any hipster cred by declaring my now 30 year old and undiminished love for Genesis's Invisible Touch album.  We cool?

By the way, when's the last time you searched the internet for song lyrics and couldn't find them?  Has that ever happened?  It's a first for me, but it's hard to complain.  The process of transcribing the lyrics while listening to them was kind of emotional -- probably just in the other side of what would be considered appropriate.

So, here.

 

Donner Lake by Wonderlick

Eating lady fingers by Donner Lake.
Bobbing up and down on the jet ski's wake.
Counting all the kayaks and the SUV's,
On a summer afternoon that's as pretty as you please.

Thinking about the winter 150 years ago,
When the Donner Party ran into some twenty feet of snow
89 set up the camp and less than half survived,
And they had to eat their families just,
To stay alive.

And I'll sink down with you until,
We both drown or drink our fill.
We could die from feeling great,
If we're ever allowed by Donner Lake.

There's still snow on the summit, the wind is far away,
It's hard to conjure cold so grim on such a perfect day.
You look at folks in swimsuits and wonder how they taste,
Nibble on your lover's ear and whisper...

All the times that you imagine your life's a big mistake,
The times you feel as fine as you did on Donner Lake,
Tally all the times in two columns on a chart,
But just find someone to whom you'd gladly,
Feed you heart.

And I'll sink down with you until,
We both drown or drink our fill.
We could die from feeling great,
If we're ever allowed by Donner Lake.

A hundred years from now you and I will both be dead,
And our children's children's children will be frolicking in bed.
If they should carry memories of anything we've done,
Let them be of days on Donner Lake beneath,
The blazing sun.

Yeah.  That just happened.  A song captured the full spectrum of life, horror to sublimity, using the traditionally incompatible themes of cannibalism and intimacy which here seem to overlap without clear division.  Is everyone okay?  Is it just me?

(Aside:  I'm not sure the lyric that ends the chorus is actually "allowed by Donner Lake."  I slowed the playback speed to 85% and that's what I got.  A message left on the Wonderlick Facebook group is, as of yet, unanswered.)

Wonderlick is a collaboration between two members of a NY/Jersey area band called Too Much Joy, which exhibited a masterful ability with sardonic, self-aware lyrics set against big and noisy pop arrangements.  I'm tempted to compare them to Better Than Ezra to give you a sense of tone, but not so tempted as to remind myself exactly what Better Than Ezra sounded like.  Just think nineties power pop.  You'll be close. 

This new incarnation (which is like fourteen years old -- my concept of what "new" music is has never been well calibrated) is more of a "two guys with ProTools" kind of thing than a "playing bars along the turnpike" kind of thing.

Some favorite sets of lyrics from Too Much Joy.

From "Pride of Frankenstein" 

Lots of stories how he got that way
No one knows where he goes at the end of the day
We threw rocks at him when we were nine
Stared us down with the pride of Frankenstein

From "Underneath the Jersey Sky"

Like when I planted one on ya
Before your lips got loose
And I thought I heard booing
But they were just yelling “Bruce”

And the best opening lines of any song I can think of.

From "Things I Hate About You"

Took out my own stitches
And I think I did it right
That’s forty-five more dollars
I can go and drink tonight

The thing I like about Wonderlick is the turn towards sentimentality they've taken.  Contrast the last line of donner lake with this, from "Underneath the Jersey Sky":

We will never be famous,
and we will never have kids,
And even we won't remember,
Half the shit that we did.

Versus

If they should carry memories of anything we've done,
Let them be of days on Donner Lake beneath,
The blazing sun.

(Another aside: The fact is that you're reading about the band Too Much Joy on a website called Flinching from Joy is not entirely coincidental.  The site's name was the product of maybe six non-consecutive hours of hitting F5 on a web-based random word generator, which eventually yielded the word "flinch" and reminded me of a live Warren Zevon album called Learning to Flinch.  The ironic construction of that title reminded me of the band name Too Much Joy.  And here we are.)