Appleby spent a winter and spring holed up with close friends in a Ballard warehouse banging pots, plucking strings, tapping mason jars, and plunking pianos. What emerged from these musical ramblings was the long-awaited debut full-length, Fire on the Vine. The album elaborates on his affinity for organic soundscapes and acoustic found sounds. And yet, the record remains accessible with lush, satisfying melodies. True to the approach taken with his first EP, Shoes for Men and Beasts, the songs are crafted carefully, with an emphasis on compelling lyrics. The thoughtful narratives supply the cast of characters with a range of experiences and emotions that reflect the songwriter’s personal doubts and realizations.
Some who have only seen Appleby perform solo may find the album a bit surprising. Though many of the songs are crafted around Appleby’s somewhat sparse finger picking style, they take on new identities as far-reaching instrumentation wraps around luring melodies and harmonies. With live performances on KEXP and shows with Damien Jurado and The Head and the Heart in his rear view mirror, Appleby and his band anticipate a fruitful remainder of the year with various tours and local opportunities.
Backseat
Bryan John Appleby Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
And I was already halfway through Ohio
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
But this is not an old American story
About the rugged men who came out from the east
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
With some money in your shoe for a meal
And I turn my car in the other direction
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
In these lyrics, Bryan John Appleby sings about a journey he took with someone who was hiding in the backseat of his Lincoln. This person was singing softly to a song on the radio, and the singer couldn't help but feel moved by their voice. He later sneaks out of the house they were sleeping in and leaves them money for a meal before turning his car in the opposite direction.
The first two lines set the scene of the journey, with the Lincoln being the singer's vehicle that carries him and the person in the backseat. The person in the backseat is hidden under a blanket with their head against the door, emphasizing a sense of vulnerability and solitude. The mention of Ohio suggests that the journey is a long one, perhaps evoking a sense of uncertainty and a new beginning.
The second verse describes the singer's escape in the darkness of the morning, painting the image of a father sleeping with a cigar lying at his feet. The father is surrounded by books in the parlor, which suggests a love of literature and knowledge passed down to his children. However, the singer indicates that their story is not an "old American story" of rugged men who came from the east. This reminds us that it is a modern narrative, and the singer is not a hero but a regular person trying to find their way.
The final verse is about the singer putting the person back on a bus to Boston with some money for food. The singer seems to be aware of the impermanence of their encounter and wishes to capture it by hoping to hear a note from the backseat. The song is rich in imagery and emotions, delving into themes of love, distance, and fleeting moments.
Line by Line Meaning
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln
You were trying to escape from someone or something and you found refuge in my car.
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
You were trying to be inconspicuous and avoid being seen while seeking comfort in my car.
And I was already halfway through Ohio
When you entered my car, we were already quite far from where you wanted to go.
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
You were trying to find solace through music, and I noticed it in my car.
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
I tried to slip out unnoticed before anyone could confront me about your presence in my car.
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
I avoided my father and his smoking habit, as he wouldn't have approved of me helping you escape.
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
My father valued knowledge and education, and he wanted us to understand and appreciate it as well.
Filled with all the words that he had wanted us to read and know
My father had high expectations for us to learn and succeed in life through education.
But this is not an old American story
This is not the typical narrative of a Western hero or a rebel.
About the rugged men who came out from the east
This is not a story of a traditional Western hero or pioneer who came from the East Coast to settle in the West.
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
I am not a criminal or a renegade from a lawless land, contrary to what some might expect.
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
I do not lead a life of recklessness or indulgence, as some might imagine.
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
I helped you reach your destination by providing you with a means of transportation.
With some money in your shoe for a meal
I wanted to make sure you have enough resources to survive your trip and reach your destination.
And I turn my car in the other direction
I changed my direction and my path in search of a new journey.
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
I wish to hear a sign of your presence, a remnant of the connection we shared during that brief moment of our lives.
Contributed by Samantha H. Suggest a correction in the comments below.