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.
Lemon Meringue Pie
Jeremy Fisher Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Singing songs from Spain at the top of my lungs
She said, "Hey, baby", when she saw it was me
I was looking for her, she was looking for fun
Dancing in the kitchen with a wooden spoon
I couldn't see what she was making
From the other side of the room, I took a step inside
Derrick came home and we played guitar
Sam I am and star you are
She said you always gotta read the box
But you always gotta read me right
We made some lemon meringue pie
It sucked but anyway I would make it with you again, anytime
We ate your lemon meringue pie
I suppose that I shouldn't lie, it's the only reason I came by tonight
Listen in a room to a song about shame
You let me in on every little thing
Playing with the words on the tip of my tongue
Ain't all I can do with the tip of my tongue
Licking the lemon, filling as it drips down
The long neck of my beer
Everyone was laughing and you just smiled
From ear to ear
And said always gotta read the box
But you always gotta read me right
We made some lemon meringue pie
It sucked but anyway I would make it with you again, anytime
We ate your lemon meringue pie
I suppose that I shouldn't lie, it's the only reason I came by tonight
Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring would be like with you in my arms
She said you always gotta read the box
But you always gotta read me right
We made some lemon meringue pie
It sucked but anyway I would make it with you again, anytime
We ate your lemon meringue pie
I suppose that I shouldn't lie, it's the only reason I came by tonight
The lyrics of Jeremy Fisher's Lemon Meringue Pie describe the singer's visit to a woman's house where they spend the night making lemon meringue pies and playing guitar. The song opens with Fisher describing his arrival in town, singing loudly in his car, and meeting the woman who he was looking for. The scene shifts to the kitchen where Fisher and the woman are making pies, laughing, and having a good time. They are joined by Derrick who plays guitar and a few other friends. Despite the fact that the pies did not turn out great, Fisher states that he would make them with her again anytime.
As the night goes on, Fisher and the woman spend time talking, playing with words, and flirting with each other. The final verse of the song is a nod to the classic song Fly Me to the Moon, with the woman telling Fisher that he always has to read the box, but he always reads her right. Fisher then repeats the chorus, stating again that they made lemon meringue pie and that he would do it again anytime.
The lyrics of Lemon Meringue Pie are a nostalgic reminiscence of a fun, carefree night spent with friends. It is a song about the simple pleasures of life, like making pies and playing music, and the connections formed through those experiences. Overall, the song captures a feeling of warmth and contentment, leaving listeners feeling as if they have been invited to be a part of the scene described.
Line by Line Meaning
Pulled into town about a quarter to three
Arrived in town around 2:45.
Singing songs from Spain at the top of my lungs
Singing loudly and joyfully in Spanish.
She said, "Hey, baby", when she saw it was me
When she saw me, she greeted me affectionately.
I was looking for her, she was looking for fun
I wanted to see her, she wanted to have a good time.
Dancing in the kitchen with a wooden spoon
Dancing and using a wooden spoon as a prop.
I couldn't see what she was making
I couldn't tell what she was cooking.
From the other side of the room, I took a step inside
I made my way into the kitchen.
And made myself a part of that night
I joined in and became involved in the activities of the night.
Derrick came home and we played guitar
Derrick arrived home and we played music together.
Sam I am and star you are
A reference to Dr. Seuss's book 'Green Eggs and Ham'.
She said you always gotta read the box
She reminded us to read the instructions.
But you always gotta read me right
But you should always understand me correctly.
We made some lemon meringue pie
We baked a lemon dessert with whipped egg whites.
It sucked but anyway I would make it with you again, anytime
It didn't turn out well, but I would still bake it with you in the future.
We ate your lemon meringue pie
We all enjoyed the dessert.
I suppose that I shouldn't lie, it's the only reason I came by tonight
The lemon meringue pie was the real reason I came over tonight.
Listen in a room to a song about shame
We listened to a song about a shameful situation.
You let me in on every little thing
You shared all the details with me.
Playing with the words on the tip of my tongue
Playing with language, experimenting with words.
Ain't all I can do with the tip of my tongue
There are other things I can do with my tongue besides talk.
Licking the lemon, filling as it drips down
Savoring the taste of the lemon as juice drips down my chin.
The long neck of my beer
The slender glass bottle of my beer.
Everyone was laughing and you just smiled
Everyone was laughing, but she remained quietly happy.
From ear to ear
A large, happy smile.
Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars
A request to be taken on an otherworldly adventure.
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA/AMCOS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind