The first time I met Mike from The Deadly Syndrome, he was throwing up on my couch. He had been out drinking the night before with Will, tore the head off a paper mache dummy, wrestled it across a stranger’s front lawn and then stumbled up to my house (I was living with Will and Jesse, and soon Chris would move into the garage) where he puked all over everything and passed out.
There was a lot of that sort of thing when The Deadly Syndrome first got together. Everyone was running around having fun, working shitty jobs, and writing music all the time. The house was drowning in instruments. There were cheap old organs that somebody picked up off Craigslist. Guitars, pianos, keyboards, violins, all broken down and beat up, just laying around in case somebody needed them.
The weeks started to revolve around shows. You know how whenever someone says, “You should check out my friend’s band?” how your immediate reaction is “are you saying that just because they’re your friend?” I never had that problem. The guys attacked the stage; the audience lost their minds. Their shows were like festivals (with lots of cardboard cut outs). It was a wonderful couple of years.
And then it stopped being fun.
It’s a cliché to say that youth is fleeting. But it’s true. And it’s hard to separate youth from rock and roll. That’s not to say The Deadly Syndrome are a bunch of geriatrics, they aren’t. But after two years of being together they were four guys who loved music, but still weren’t able to do it for a living. Four guys who were getting older and starting to think about things like financial security, maybe starting a family, having a car that didn’t break down all the time, getting health insurance, etc – all the stuff that keeps making more and more noise as the years go by and you start growing up.
And growing up is tricky business in rock and roll. Because the truth is that while age doesn’t stifle creativity, it certainly encourages stagnation. And stagnation leads to a sad and boring road that either ends with too much thinking about The Good Old Days or Fat Elvis.
So after a couple of years I think the guys weren’t sure what to do. If you’ll allow me another cliché, things were starting to feel like an ending, rather than a beginning. At this point they could have very easily broken up. Left on good terms and gone their separate ways. Or they could have written another Ortolan. Similar songs played in the same venues, stretching out the good times as far as they could. Instead they moved all of their stuff into a cabin up in the woods and started over.
There weren’t a lot of updates, no hand wringing or bragging, nothing specific, just the occasional word that things were moving along. And then one day after about nine months had gone by, they let everyone know that they had finished an album and were calling it Nolens Volens.
The songs, the production, it all seems to be the work of a band that has found its strengths, and is busy seeing how far they can push them. You can hear the earlier, younger band throughout all the songs, but there’s something else there as well. A sort of self-assurance that gives each song its own life and space, along with a patience that usually isn’t associated with rock and roll.
More than anything else though, Nolens Volens is about growing up. About the give and take that comes with age and responsibility, about remembering the energy of youth and infusing it into a new, older life.
Or not. Fuck it, maybe I’m over thinking it. Maybe they just made a great record and plan to release it later this year and that’s all there is to it. After all, they’re all still in their 20’s for god’s sake! Why am I talking about growing up? There’s still plenty of time for being young, playing the music too loud, and puking all over everything just before passing out.
–Jason Greene
Party City
The Deadly Syndrome Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
We knew that those were lies
We held them very tight
Then in came the light
And we couldnt ignore them, no
That undid the lies that you and I have known.
The opening lyrics of The Deadly Syndrome's song Party City paint a picture of a morning-after scenario, where the singer and their partner have doubled up their blinds to block out the sunlight and slept until nighttime. This opening line sets a somber, reflective tone for the song. As the lyrics progress, it becomes clear that the singer is processing some kind of deception in their relationship. They knew the lies were there, but they held onto them tightly until the light came in and forced them to confront the truth. This suggests that the singer and their partner were actively avoiding acknowledging the problems in their relationship, perhaps in an effort to preserve a sense of happiness or contentment.
The chorus of the song captures this idea perfectly, with its repetition of the phrase "we don't want to know." The singer and their partner are in denial, preferring to ignore the cracks in their relationship rather than face them head-on. However, the light that comes in represents a sense of truth and clarity that ultimately can't be ignored. The final line of the chorus, "that undid the lies that you and I have known," creates a sense of catharsis in acknowledging the truth and moving beyond it.
Overall, Party City is a poignant and introspective song about the way we sometimes hide from the truth in our relationships. The Deadly Syndrome's lyrics adeptly capture the complicated emotions involved in identifying and confronting deception, ultimately offering a sense of hope and healing through their honest portrayal of the journey towards truth.
Line by Line Meaning
We doubled up the blinds and slept until the night.
We closed ourselves off from the truth and avoided facing reality by sleeping during the day.
We knew that those were lies
We were aware that we were lying to ourselves and trying to avoid the truth.
We held them very tight
We were clinging to our lies and avoiding facing reality at all costs.
Then in came the light
Something happened that made us face the truth and see things clearly.
And we couldnt ignore them, no
We were unable to continue lying to ourselves and ignoring the truth.
That undid the lies that you and I have known.
Facing the truth helped us to see the lies we were telling ourselves and helped us break free from them.
Writer(s): William Etling, Christopher Richard, Jesse Hoy, Michael Hughes
Contributed by Allison A. Suggest a correction in the comments below.