In the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s video for their 2003 hit song “Maps”, the lead singer Karen O starts to cry. She cries real tears; that’s real emotion you’re seeing.
You know the song, right?
Pull it up - press play.
There are differing opinions on the lore but stick with me.
The song is either about:
A) Her boyfriend, Angus, leaving her to pursue his career aspirations.
B) Karen’s jealousy having to watch Angus be around others while he was touring with his own band.
Maybe it was both. He was supposed to be there for the filming of the video, but as we, the viewers, watch the tears form in Karen’s eyes, we can conclude that Angus left her hanging.
Hanging ‘high and dry’ as some would say.
Is that what you’re supposed to do with all the love you have left over for someone after they leave - when it’s over?
Write a song, cry through the video, make a hit, become a star.
It’s a sad story, but I’ll be honest with you - it makes for great dramatic effect.
Angus may not have been on camera, but he definitely stole the scene.
The video ends up becoming a huge success and getting nominated for multiple awards. The song itself is now critically acclaimed and widely accepted as one of the greatest songs of all time (if you don’t agree, bring it up with Rolling Stone). You have to wonder if after all that, the rest of the band isn’t grateful for Angus’s transgression; thanking their lucky stars that he didn’t show up to the shoot. Feeling fortunate for the fumbling of the bag that caused Karen to break down and write the song in the first place. Especially the drummer who looks suspiciously like someone I’d go on a mediocre date with - you just know a guy like that would make a snide comment about how her loss was their gain. And maybe it was, at the end of the day.
Karen wrote “wait – they don’t love you like I love you” and Angus said, ‘Thanks for the song but I’m actually busy during the whole music video thing…raincheck?
I’m hesitant to say it’s the greatest song of all time but I’d be lying if I told you I’ve never pressed ‘repeat’ late at night, while lying on the floor playing out my own personal Karen O song and dance. If I did, my Spotify wrapped would say otherwise.
Go ahead, you can put it on repeat.
You’ll notice that the song doesn’t say much – it doesn’t have to. In that situation, she doesn’t really need to. I don’t need to either. All this love left over with no song to write, no video to shoot, no star to become. I’m just stuck here holding it, not sure if I should put it down, give it away or keep it hidden somewhere.
It’s heavy.
Despite that, I do still love my little song and dance. A little spin on Saturday night at 70’s bars, choreographing kitchen dances, and duets shifting side to side, locking eyes long enough to feel the need to say “I know”.
The rest going unspoken, just a nod – just “I know”.
I know, meaning yes. Meaning me, too. Answering what seemed like a question that remained unasked. Hanging in the air, like a nervous little ghost that was going to fade away if it wasn’t given life by being acknowledged.
You have to wonder if after all that, maybe I was answering the wrong question.
Nevertheless, I love a little dance.
Not that I’m particularly good at it, I’ve just always liked it. Now I’m still trying to dance, but the song is different, I’m stuck listening to reverbs of what looks like limerence. Trying to toe the line. Flirting with disaster and drawing things out until rhythm can be found again. Until I can catch up to the count. Every time I’m close my mind wanders and I remember.
Reality hits, my heart drops, I feel sick.
I’m forced to forget, then someone presses repeat. A vicious cycle.
I love a little dance, I do. But not under these conditions.
If once we danced a duet in purity, now I stand frozen. Finding myself alone in an empty apartment somewhere in the middle of Michigan, holding on to nothingness. Ghosts fading faster than my ability to give life with acknowledgement.
I try anyways. So here I sit, acknowledging.
This is how Karen must have felt when she was crying in front of a half-full gymnasium of music video extras, singing that song. Maps.
I’ve always assumed she used that word as a geographical reference for how far her and Angus would be from each other, but it turns out that it might be an acronym for ‘My Angus, please stay’ - maybe that was her, acknowledging.
Poetic, but I prefer to think of her measuring miles.
Maps – as in, we’re going to have to use one if we’ll ever see each other again.
Go ahead, press repeat.
I guess it’s a pretty good song, after all.
Enhance your reading experience with today’s Blog pairing menu:
Catchy tune: Maps by The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s.