The Native Cats, Always On, track three. Whenever it was in 2007 that we decided we were going to start a band together, Julian gave me a CD-R of nine experimental instrumentals he’d recorded on his own while he was still in the Bad Luck Charms, and I wrote lyrics for the last two tracks. We finished them both during the Always On sessions, with my vocals, Julian’s new bass parts, and Anthony Rochester working his mild-mannered magic on the whole lot. One was the still unreleased dark country swing of “Guns All In Tune”, which we’ll find a home for someday, and the other was the manic 300BPM XTRMNTR tribute “Be Your Healer”. I say that having never heard anything off XTRMNTR other than the singles, but Julian’s always banging on about Primal Scream so I’m assuming that’s what he was trying to do. I don’t know who I was trying to channel with my vocal part, although the bit where I suddenly drop all vocal artifice for the line “don’t you get so bent outta shape” is definitely a Dave Graney trick. It’s no “that guy would give a dog’s arse heartburn”, but I was only young.

There aren’t many songs I can honestly say this about, but I literally can’t remember what the lyrics were meant to refer to. I recently got into a long and rewarding conversation about video games with a dude in Melbourne because he was quite sure I meant “healer” in the Final Fantasy white mage sense, which doesn’t ring any bells, but it’s still likely enough that I agreed with him. I know I was trying to help a friend through a situation that had nothing to do with me at around about that time, and trying a little bit too hard for my own good, so it’s possible that that whole experience fed into it somehow. The “you know you’re not so bad” part I just lifted from an old unreleased song of mine called “Killed Off”, and it refers to my longstanding habit of trying to cheer somebody up by reminding them of all the ways in which they could be awful but aren’t.

So I guess this song is a bit more personal than I remember? Doesn’t feel personal, though, which I like. It’s a lot of fun to sing, especially the high notes that I don’t quite have the voice for. As with everything else on Always On, we haven’t played it live in ages, but we’re trying to bring it back.

you need a little subtlety
you need a little style
you’re turning black and green
you’re turning over in your sleep
somebody funhouse mirrored all your single syllables right back at you
like a child would do

you need the grace of a ballerina
to be a healer
don’t you get so defensive
you just need a healer

I’ll be your healer

you’re so aspirational
always looking for an in
but you know you’re not so bad
you’ve seen what all these other people do

you need the poise of a ballerina
to be a healer
don’t you get so bent outta shape
you just need a healer

I’ll be your healer

Because I still feel a bit odd writing about music I didn’t make. What right do I have?

The Native Cats, Always On, track two. There’s an entire subgenre of artists writing lyrics about video games, but I like to think I’ve got the market cornered on lyrics about video game programming. Purely from an player’s perspective, of course. You think I know how to code?

I think a lot about the idea of “flags” in video games applied to real life. As I understand it, it’s basically one thing not happening until another thing has been done. Sometimes it vaguely makes sense, like a door opening only when all the enemies in a room are dead. Then there are places like the Millenial Fair at the start of Chrono Trigger on the Super Nintendo, where Lucca’s finishing touches to her invention will never be complete until you’ve spoken to everyone in the fairgrounds. Serves a story purpose, but there’s no sensible connection between the two.

Then you start thinking about real life working the same way and it’s a fully formed superstition. Sometimes you don’t get an email you’ve been waiting for until you finish washing the dishes. Flags. When I moved in Edinburgh there was a shop a few blocks away from my flat with a Tintin wood carving in the window. It was still there when I left a year and a half later. I often wondered what would happen if I bought it, or what they’d sell in its place. Maybe a pouch that carries twice as many healing potions. Maybe a hookshot!

Rubberband AI, again as per my limited understanding, is a little trick used most often in racing games where the speed and performance of your opponents is directly linked to your own, thereby artificially ensuring a close race. It’s why you’ll never get particularly far ahead when you play Mario Kart against the computer. That, and blue shells.

Verse four is largely meaningless and was intended to be sung through so much reverb as to be unintelligible, but I think Julian has a religious objection to vocal effects, so there it is, laid bare. I thought that I had successfully obscured the meaning of the first half of the song, but the apology I received very shortly after we played it live for the first time may suggest otherwise.

don’t drag me in there
you’ve told me what it means, I know
you know I love a little masquerade
and I’d hate to see it go
you know I love a little masquerade
and I’d hate to see it fall apart so soon

I’ll put you up on the big screen
and you can tell them how you understand
how it feels
the men and women on the street size you up
dress you down
whatcha got against tomorrow?
did it have to be today?
you’re so soon

don’t hoist me up there
I’m the last flag in town
you know you’re gonna have a lot to do
if you start waving me around
you know you’re gonna have a lot to do
if you finish what you started so soon

listen out for the seventh wheel
it’s an ache you used to feel
put your eyes where mine should be
land your body on your feet

don’t try to leave me
you haven’t heard a word I’ve said
I’ll catch you up like a rubber band
if you try to get too far ahead
I’ll snap you back like a rubber band
if you get to where you’re headed too soon
you’re too soon

The Native Cats, Always On, track one. The music for this was the first thing Julian and I ever recorded as the Native Cats. We were in the living room at my parents’ house and we’d collected a few things to bang and clang together over the top of the drum track (which Julian found in some old keyboard or other). All I’m sure of is both of us clattering drumsticks around in a blue watering can, and me hitting piano strings with a 20-cent piece.

I had a terrible time trying to come up with a vocal melody for this. Everything I tried sounded like a poor imitation of Scott Walker on The Drift. In the end I’m still not sure I escaped it. Started out with a different set of lyrics and the title “Burial Heat”. Would have been too weird too soon.

The lyrics I went with were meant to be about how great art can completely overwhelm you and haunt you and occupy your thoughts and heighten your emotions for days and days… and, more to the point, how that’s often the last thing you want to be going on in your head, because it’s all very romantic to spend every waking moment lost in a song but sometimes you’ve got important shit to do. That’s something I feel very strongly about, especially now I’ve got a family to look after (see the neatly prescient second verse), which is why I’m still disappointed that I didn’t express the idea well at all. A lot of empty, wasted words. Malkmus words. Hoping to take another run at the same idea in a different song sometime, capture it properly.

I already didn’t like Water Down by the time we were putting the finishing touches to Always On and I really didn’t want it to be the opening track. Julian didn’t demand that we put it first but he seemed excited enough by the thought of doing so that I figured he must have been onto something. I did eventually insist we never do it live again. I enjoyed the one time we played it at the Republic though, with live percussion, including a scattering of audience members tapping their beer glasses with chopsticks. I know I used to have a recording of this! Let me know if you have it!

I walked into the petrol station
I got brought back down by the speed of sound
and I knew that it gets better
and there’s no sense in telling her
to keep an eye on the clock and the calendar
it’s alright
but watch your back

it gets to you so personally
but you’re no good to your family
in this state

get on your cloud
water it down
wring it out
hey, hey
get on your cloud
water it down
let it out

and the sun revolves around
waves your flag and cheers you on
it’s a kiss of death
you’ve got to tread so carefully
in your world of opportunity

get on your cloud
water it down
wring it out
hey, hey
get on your cloud
water it down
let it out