Jeremy has a tendency to get his legs involved as well: In 2002, he biked across the entire continent, from Seattle to Halifax, Nova Scotia—and that’s a loooooong way, folks—to promote his first album, Back Porch Spirituals, recorded in a friend’s basement. That trek took six months and included 30 official shows, plus a number of impromptu performances, and it laid the foundation for what is now a sizable fan base in Fisher’s native Canada. He also has a history of busking in the more conventional manner—whatever it takes to get his music heard. We’re talkin’ grass-roots, interactive DIY to the max with this talented and dedicated—or maybe driven is a better word—young artist.
Fisher’s new album, Goodbye Blue Monday (released in the U.S. September 18 on Wind-up Records), is a timeless burst of acoustic rock & roll that’s brainy and hook-filled, playful and provocative, all at the same time. Take “Cigarette,” which employs the cancer stick as a metaphor for addictive relationships—the enticement, the yearning, the withdrawal and the damage. Or “Scar That Never Heals,” which examines the anatomy of heartbreak. At the same time, both are thoroughly infectious tracks with choruses that are, well, addictive. That’s Fisher’s M.O.
The album’s extremes are represented by the buoyant “High School” (a recut version of the single from Fisher’s second album, Let It Shine, which picked up substantial airplay in Canada) on the one hand, and the politically charged “American Girls” and “Lay Down (Ballad of Rigoberto Alpizar)” on the other. This is the sort of record that sounds like you’ve been playing it forever even as it explores themes that are altogether unprecedented—and that is no mean feat. Says Hawksley Workman (Tegan & Sara), who produced, played and sang backing vocals on the album, “Jeremy’s a brilliant and direct songwriter with a bright soul.”
As a curly-haired singer with an acoustic guitar, Fisher gets the requisite comparisons to Bob Dylan, while his boyish tenor, dexterous fingerpicking and electrifying hooks eerily recall Paul Simon. “It was a little weird to hear that sort of stuff at first,” he says, “but I’m really flattered that people see those resemblances, and I’m sure that some of the records Simon and Dylan listened to are in my collection—Delta blues singers like Charlie Patton, Robert Johnson, Mississippi John Hurt and Big Bill Broonzy, Alan Lomax’s field recordings, Depression-era stuff. For some reason, I identified with all that old stuff when I was going through this renaissance in my songwriting—it’s what inspired me to continue making music.”
With one foot in roots idioms and the other in rock, Fisher has an unusually broad palate to work with. He spent by far the greater part of his career playing solo, and there’s a disarming spontaneity to his performances. “I’ve probably done 80 percent of my shows solo,” he says, “and I built my thing on top of that. When I was busking, I shed all the things I’d been doing that didn’t work—it developed my songwriting and my performing, and it built my confidence. I feel like I really came into my own performing on the street, and for a while that’s all I wanted to do. So it’s been a hard road trying to find the right band, and the newest incarnation of my band is starting to feel the closest to how comfortable I am as a solo performer.”
As committed as he is to having fun, Fisher is totally serious about his mission. “Music can do a lot of things,” he says, “but the greatest thing music can do is to make listening to a record the best three-and-a-half minutes of your day, or the best night of your week when you go to a show. It’s an escape from the hum-drum; it’s a drug that’s actually good for you. What I’m really trying to do is relate to people on a human level, and in my songs I tend to gravitate toward the human element of a story. For example, ‘Lay Down (Ballad of Rigoberto Alpizar)’ is about a guy who got murdered by an air marshal in the Miami Airport, but the viewpoint I use is the fictitious voice of the guy who shot him. So what I’m trying to do is communicate with people, and music is the best way I know how to do that. Music is such a mysterious thing, because it’s pretty much invisible, but a song can convey an amazing amount of emotion.”
That’s certainly the case with “American Girls,” which boasts another audaciously unsettling premise. “I wrote the chorus and lyrics immediately after reading the verdict on Private Lynndie England, who was the Abu Ghraib soldier who took all the photos with the Iraqi prisoners,” Fisher points out. It was so controversial and got so much attention, and she ended up being the scapegoat, but the verdict got buried in the back of the newspapers because it wasn’t sensational enough, and I didn’t want to let it go by without being documented. That song and ‘The Ballad of Rigoberto Alpizar’ are both about events that are monumental but not nearly as important as the fact that a certain superstar wasn’t wearing underwear when she got out of a limo. This is a very weird culture we live in.”
As for the making of that little video with the big impact, well, there was a serious purpose behind that too. “I wanted there to be something out there that was from me—that wasn’t based on marketing—using what I had in my apartment as creatively as possible,” he says. “Just to be out there and relate to people in that way, and say, ‘Here’s something from me that I made for you. I can’t answer every email, but I want you to know that we’re communicating.’ It’s very important to me to be authentic in everything I do and find a creative way to get it all done. I remember being 12 years old and sending fan letters to pro skateboarders, hoping they’d get to read it and hoping they might write back. So I know what it feels like.”
A lot of time and effort went into that $60 clip. “The cigarette was made out of modeling clay,” Fisher explains, “and every frame was an individual picture I took, so it was a very long process, especially posing the cigarette with live people and getting them to do certain things at the same time. It’s pretty involved. Like, you sit there for an hour moving this little cigarette around, and then you push the spacebar and you have 10 seconds of footage, but somehow it’s rewarding. It’s funny, because I’m not all that patient a person.” He pauses for a beat. “But I’m dedicated.”
No two ways about that. For Jeremy Fisher, it’s all about attending to the details, telling the truth, being real and giving people the best three-and-a-half minutes of their day.
Cigarette
Jeremy Fisher Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
From the back of your mind
To the tip of your tongue
Reaching out lookin for mine
[Chorus:]
I'll be your cigarette
Light me up and get on with it
Good or bad I'm just a habit
Good or bad I'm just your habit
Sweet relief
That's what you come and get from me
I give up everytime
You want it you got it I'm burnin down
[Chorus]
And you try to put me down
Everytime you come back around
And you try to put me away
Tell yourself you'll kick it someday
[Chorus]
The lyrics to Jeremy Fisher's song "Cigarette" depict a relationship between two people where one person is compared to a smoking habit. The opening lines say, "It keeps you up, from the back of your mind, to the tip of your tongue. Reaching out looking for mine." These lines suggest that the person the song is addressed to is looking for a feeling of excitement or comfort, which they find in the singer. The next line, "Reaching out looking for mine," implies that the person is searching for a connection with the singer.
The chorus of the song goes, "I'll be your cigarette, light me up and get on with it. I'll be hard to forget, good or bad, I'm just a habit." Here, the singer is expressing his willingness to be the person's habit, despite whether the habit has a positive or negative impact. The next few lines further reinforce the idea that the singer is the person's addiction, offering them "sweet relief" every time they come back to him. The final lines of the chorus, "Good or bad, I'm just your habit," solidifies the idea that the person cannot resist their attraction to the singer, much like a smoker cannot resist their addiction to cigarettes.
The final verse addresses the person trying to quit the habit (the singer). The lines, "And you try to put me down, every time you come back around. And you try to put me away, tell yourself you'll kick it someday," suggest that the person realizes that their relationship with the singer is not healthy, but they continue to come back to him.
Overall, the song "Cigarette" is a metaphor for a toxic, addictive relationship that the person cannot resist. The singer is the person's habit that they cannot quit, even though they know it is not good for them.
Line by Line Meaning
It keeps you up
The cigarettes keep you awake and alert
From the back of your mind
The urge to smoke is always present, even if you're not actively thinking about it
To the tip of your tongue
You can taste the cigarettes and the nicotine as you smoke
Reaching out lookin for mine
Even though you know smoking is bad for you, you can't resist the urge to smoke
I'll be your cigarette
The singer will act as a temporary replacement for a cigarette, providing a similar sensation and feeling
Light me up and get on with it
Use the singer as a substitute for a cigarette, and then move on with your day
I'll be hard to forget
The singer will act as a memorable experience, much like smoking a cigarette can be memorable
Good or bad I'm just a habit
The singer acknowledges that being a habit isn't necessarily a good thing, but they're willing to fulfill that role for the smoker
Sweet relief
Smoking provides temporary relief from stress and anxiety
That's what you come and get from me
The singer acknowledges that smokers come to cigarettes for relief, which they're emulating
I give up everytime
It's easy for the singer to be a substitute for a cigarette, because they don't have the same addictive qualities
You want it you got it I'm burnin down
The singer is willing and able to provide the temporary relief that a cigarette would normally give
And you try to put me down
People may tell the smoker that smoking is bad for them and try to discourage them from doing it
Everytime you come back around
Despite the warnings, the urge to smoke always comes back
And you try to put me away
People may try to hide cigarettes or make them less accessible to prevent others from smoking
Tell yourself you'll kick it someday
The smoker may acknowledge that smoking is bad for them and make attempts to quit, but it can be a difficult habit to break
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: JEREMY BINNS, JAY JOYCE, ROBERT SCOTT
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Shelly McCullough
Love this song! Another amazing Canadian artist not getting enough recognition.
Videos1080p
This band has so much energy, tonight watching him perform in SF, his music is just amazing. He is so funny, Jeremy Fisher and Lights is such a good combination for touring! Im Surprised that they are both from Canada and touring together! Its not until you see this band live, that you actually feel the energy, you understand this band.
Pansbox
You are amazing! Waiting for you to make it big real soon! Will share you out on FB! Good luck! I absolutely love your songs!!
Howard
Always loved this song and music video!
AttaGurlBunzzz
almost EIGHT years now..what a concert..still ROCKING...
Huskyfan63
He played this tonight :D One of my favorite new artists now!
She !
Ive loved this song for years... I had to revisit it again
614bmoat
Downloaded this from iTunes in 2007 man time flies lol
DarthArma
I love this song
Raymond Sherman
Another fantastic song keep up the great worK! I expect to see you in the Big League!!