Well, maybe not two sides of the same coin. Kind of the same side but slightly different. Ah, what do ya want from me? I've temporarily run out of ideas for the names of new sections, and this will do as well as most. What's it about? I'm glad you asked. No, really, I am. It's going to be taking a look at how different songs or different artistes view the same basic situation. Someone might, for instance, write a slow, sad song about the evils of war, while another might have a fast, angry take on the same idea. Or one band might think the way to go to talk about religion is a punchy uptempo number while another might do an acoustic folk ditty. Others might think colours, rainbows, nature or any other concept can be handled in a variety of ways. And this is what we examine here. How two artistes can write on the same subject but tackle it two completely different ways. The songs are the same, at a very basic level, but different.
The first two I want to use to open this section concern making it big in the city. You know, that "this-smalltown-is-stifling-me" or "there-must-be-better-waiting-for-me", the kind of inner cry that so often builds inside people, usually younger and bored, or people who feel they are not achieving their full potential, are being held back in some way. Those who think they'll never make it in their small burg and head out for the bright lights of the big city.
"It never rains in Southern California"
(Albert Hammond)
from the 1972 album of the same name
When Albert Hammond penned "It never rains in Southern California" he envisaged his hero just deciding one day to get the hell out and make something of himself.
"Got onboard a westbound 747/ Didn't think before deciding what to do" because he knew that he could make more of himself, his talents and his potential on the west coast ---
"All that talk of opportunities/ TV breaks and movies rang true". But he soon finds that the streets of San Francisco or LA are not paved with gold in the way he had hoped they would be, and along with a thousand thousand other aspiring actors, singers, songwriters and musicians finds it hard, even impossible to get that big break that will take him into the big time. After some time in California he's reached his wits' end and is struggling.
"Out of work, I'm out of my head/ I'm out of self-respect/ I'm out of bread/ I'm underloved, underfed/ I wanna go home!" Then someone comes to visit him, possibly out of the blue, and sees how badly he's doing. He begs this person, who is obviously returning to his hometown, not to let on how he has failed, and asks them to support the fantasy that he's getting along just fine:
"Will you tell the folks back home / I've nearly made it? / Had offers but don't know/ Which ones to take?"
"Comin' home" (Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band), from the 1982 album "The Distance"
Bob Seger, on the other hand, ten years later, relates the tale of someone returning, reluctantly, to their hometown after failing to make it big, and having to admit that they never will. As the protagonist looks out the window of the bus bringing them back to where it all started, the place they ran away from, hoping for better things, he or she notes that nothing much has changed, in a depressing sort of way:
"Passed the old church on the edge of town/ Trailways bus was right on time/ Passed your uncle's house on mainstreet/ His old truck was parked outside" and remarks how
"This old town has hardly grown" wondering
"Has it really been ten long years? / Now you're finally comin' home."
The song is called "Comin' home", and is on Seger's 1982 album "The distance". In contrast to Hammond's upbeat, almost desperately cheerful song, this is a slow, acoustic guitar and piano-driven ballad, reflecting the pain and humiliation of having to come back with, as the singer sees it, your tail between your legs, when things failed to work out as you had hoped. I've never been in that position, but I'm sure many who read this may have been, or know those who have, and I can imagine the shame of having to face people to whom you probably bragged that you were off to the big city, getting out of this hick town, going to make your fortune etc. Seger relates the decision in a morose undertone:
"Left your hometown for the city lights/ You were young and you were strong" but then things did not turn out as expected:
"Lots of traffic, lots of sleepless nights/ Lots of dreams that all went wrong". He, or she, emulates Albert Hammond's hero too in a way. Whereas Hammond is determined to stay in California, stick it out, hope it all comes together and sends his friend home with a made-up story about how well he's doing, the protagonist in Seger's song decides to keep his bad luck to himself.
"You'll just tell them what they want to hear/ How you took the place by storm/ You won't tell them how you lost it all..."
For Seger's hero, the dream is over but that failure will never be made public. The aspiring star has come back to his hometown without achieving his dreams but nobody will ever know. It's highly unlikely that anyone else from Hicksville, USA (TM) will ever go where he has, and if he does, is doubly unlikely to ever hear of the failure of his townsmate. The only one who will know is the main character, and though it may haunt their dreams for months or years to come, it's a secret they'll bear alone. Even at the end, near the song's fadeout ending, they make a half-hearted excuse or reason for returning:
"You grew tired of being alone" with the slightest hope that they may not be there forever:
"And don't know for how long..."
Not only in the way that the two songwriters approach the subject matter are these two tales of dreams dashed different, but the whole tempo of the songs differs too, with Hammond's a fixed smile through gritted teeth, as he pretends all is well, and Seger's hero, though also a failure, will also grin and nod, and make excuses for leaving "the big city", though his is shrouded in a true acceptance of that failure, not a determined refusal to see the facts, that they will never make it. Seger's song is therefore more reflective, slower and more moody and melancholic, with the truth an unwelcome visitor but let in, whereas Hammond has kept the door firmly shut against reality, and his carefree, upbeat song reflects this.
Here, finally, are the two songs if you would like to hear them.