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.
Sucker Punch
Jeremy Fisher Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Got me so low
Got me unclothed
Climb into me
I try to climb you
But I'm on my knees so you can watch the tube
Drives me insane when you blow a fuse
What's the use?
You're always confused
Well what is abuse if you say
This ain't the same
You say this ain't the same
Chorus
You can't just dig around anytime you like
This ain't no lost and found
Don't be bringin flowers when you're lookin for a fight
Your sucker punch won't drop me this time around
Got me again, put me to tears
Sorry for you, poor little you
It's all my fault 'cause you were abused but you say
This ain't the same
You say this ain't the same
Chorus
Things that you say ain't what you mean
You suffocate the air I breathe
I ain't so weak, I can be mean
I got a streak in me
In me, you painted it all over me
Chorus
The lyrics to Jeremy Fisher's song "Sucker Punch" seem to be describing a tumultuous relationship between two people. The first verse describes one person being vulnerable and exposed, while the other person seems to be disengaged and watching television. The second verse suggests that there may be a history of abuse in the relationship, with one person shifting the blame onto the other. However, the person being blamed isn't willing to accept it, saying "this ain't the same."
The chorus seems to be a warning to the other person that they can't just come and go as they please, causing pain whenever they feel like it. The reference to a "sucker punch" implies that the pain is unexpected and unfair. The final verse suggests that the relationship has become toxic, with one person "suffocating" the other and causing them to feel trapped. However, the person being suffocated doesn't see themselves as weak and is willing to fight back if necessary.
Overall, the lyrics to "Sucker Punch" explore themes of power dynamics, blame-shifting, and resilience in the face of adversity. The song seems to be a cautionary tale about the dangers of staying in a toxic relationship and the importance of standing up for oneself.
Line by Line Meaning
Got me again
You have managed to hurt me again
Got me so low
You have made me feel truly bad about myself
Got me unclothed
You have left me feeling vulnerable and exposed
Climb into me
You have control over me and have invaded my personal space
I try to climb you
I have attempted to gain power over you but failed
But I'm on my knees so you can watch the tube
I am in a submissive position while you are preoccupied with something trivial
Drives me insane when you blow a fuse
Your volatile behavior is causing me to become mentally unstable
What's the big deal?
You are downplaying your negative actions
What's the use?
Your behavior is pointless and illogical
You're always confused
You seem to be unable to comprehend the impact of your actions
Well what is abuse if you say
You are questioning the definition of abuse and trying to justify your negative behavior
This ain't the same
You acknowledge that your current abusive behavior differs from your past behavior
You can't just dig around anytime you like
You cannot continue to go through my things without permission
This ain't no lost and found
My personal belongings are not for you to carelessly search through
Don't be bringin flowers when you're lookin for a fight
Your insincere apologies will not ease the tension or excuse your behavior
Your sucker punch won't drop me this time around
Your manipulative tactics will not work on me anymore
Got me again, put me to tears
Once again, you have made me cry with your hurtful behavior
Sorry for you, poor little you
You are trying to elicit sympathy for yourself, despite being the one causing harm
It's all my fault 'cause you were abused but you say
You are blaming me for your abusive behavior, despite being responsible for your own actions
Things that you say ain't what you mean
You often say things that are insincere and not reflective of your true feelings
You suffocate the air I breathe
Your presence makes it difficult for me to feel comfortable in my own space
I ain't so weak, I can be mean
I am not a pushover and am capable of standing up for myself
I got a streak in me
I have a rebellious side that will no longer tolerate your abusive behavior
Contributed by Lillian M. Suggest a correction in the comments below.