Pornographer's Dream

  Suzanne Vega hasn't been especially popular, possibly because most of the lyrics are generally cerebral, and despite clever chord progressions and neo-folk abilities it makes Americans' heads hurt, "I do thing!  Dahhh!" (drooling).

 
   Still, her work is to be marvelled.  She had one major mainstream hit, Luka, which was about child abuse but a very impressive guitar riff, particularly at the end with nice sevenths added in there, hammering on and off.  I just loved that ending riff.  So passionate!
 


   In the UK she fared a little better with minor hits like Marlene On the Wall about the exploits of Marlene Deitrich and her cruel intimacies, clever and autobiographical (good luck American kids dealing with that now), and Caramel from the soundtrack of the mediocre movie, The Truth About Cats and Dogs which comes off as a lounge jazz '40s gig like the film Dark City with Jennifer Connelly singing Sway, as well as a hit from Pretty In Pink called Left of Center.  She was sampled heavily as a right-of-passage for rappers with Tom's Diner by just about every decent rap artist that exists today, and if you hear the ditty, you'll know it.

  Arguably, her first, rather raw and tender album which included Freeze Tag and The Soldier and the Queen as well as Marlene was quite moving in poetry form, spoken-word folk.  Suzanne is not a pretty woman, per se.  Not really attractive at all.  She doesn't have that pizazz that sells records. She's not vampy, nor hot, but a bit plain, and I kind of like that.  Most of all, she's not fake.  She writes all her stuff and plays guitar on all of it too, and not like the guitar is a prop like so many fakers these days.  She really is the only guitarist, so kudos to her.

  An album I sort of liked but never bought (shame) is Crime and Beauty which came out in 2007.  Some of it smacks of the band Garbage, particularly the song, Frank & Ava which has a particular Shirley Manson feel that's a bit elusive to coin, dark and yet upbeat, but the real star for me is Pornographer's Dream.  Somehow it comes off as both jazz and wistful, particularly the chorus, and the lyrics are pretty darn brilliant an angle.  I submit to you for your intellectual consideration, dear reader (and for our mutual pleasure):

 

"She's a pornographer's dream", he said.  I knew what he meant;

but it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have that hadn't been spent.
Would he still dream of the thigh, the flesh upon-high what he saw so much of ?

Wouldn't he dream of the thing that he never could quite get the touch of ?

It's out of his hands, over his head, out of his reach, under this real life.

Hidden in veils. Covered in silk. Dreaming of what might be. 

It's out of his hands, over his head, out of his reach, under this real life.

Hidden in veils.  Dreaming of mystery.

 

Bettie Page is still the rage with her legs and leather.

She turns to tease the camera, and please us at home.. and we let her.
Who's to know what she'll show of herself, in what measure?

If what she reveals or what she conceals is the key to our pleasure?

 It's out of our hands, over our heads, out of our reach, under this real life.

Hidden in veils. Covered in silk. Dreaming of what might be.

It's out of our hands, over our heads, out of our reach, under this real life.

Hidden in veils. Dreaming of mystery.

 

Under this real life.  Dreaming of what might be.

Under this real life.  Dreaming of mystery.

"She's a pornographer's dream", he said.  I knew what he meant;

and it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have?

  There's a little whisper of "have" at the end of the song, just to add to it, particularly noticeable with headphones, to "suggest" a little.  The song is cleverly done and dissolves into a dream-like trance about 3/4ths of the way through until the end when Suzanne snaps-you-back to the original question, as if you were on a daydream journey.  There's a tinge of sadness in the song too, and a longing, the whisper at the end eludes to hope of a dream fulfilled, someday.
 
 
  Now I'm no pervert (well, not more so than any other guy) but I can appreciate the depth involved and the masterful work here of the emotion attempted to evoke and the journey presented.   It's a pretty song, really.  Wistful and sweet, about dreams.  
 
 
 
 

  You, Suzanne, I dub thee a Master Bard, for you have succeeded in provocation, motion, and entrancement, and I find I can't not listen to the song twice.  Well done, and bravo.