Motion Sickness

Living well is the best revenge.  I always thought this would have been the perfect motto for Larry Flynt.

The phrase dates back at least four hundred years or so.  The phrase’s earliest known appearance is found in a collection called Outlandish Proverbs, edited by George Herbert (3 April 1593 – 1 March 1633) and posthumously published in 1640.  I like the fact that Herbert was a priest as well as a poet.  I think the living well is the best revenge motto would work almost as nicely for Jesus of Nazareth as for Larry Flynt.

The phrase’s meaning is open to some interpretation, but I believe the most sensible gist is that in the face of some personal tragedy caused by the hand of another, it is probably better to move on with one’s own life and let the miserable sod deal with their own shortcomings.  Revenge is cyclical, a downward spiral.  Phrases that have lasted four hundred years should probably be given some credence.  That said, it’s simply human nature to want to strike back at someone who has caused you harm, and letting things go and moving on is almost always easier said than done.

In the musical realm, there is a long history of songs documenting revenge.  There are even songs that have become vehicles for revenge.  In recent decades, a certain type of song known as a “diss track” has become more and more popular, especially in hip hop.  The comprehensive and authoritative source Wikepedia defines a diss track as “a song who’s primary purpose is to attack someone else, usually another artist.”

Phoebe Bridgers’ song “Motion Sickness” has been described by various publications as a diss track.  But the song is not a diss track.  The primary purpose of “Motion Sickness” is not, in fact, to attack someone else.  The song’s primary purpose is to share an all-too-common human experience, the feeling of being betrayed by someone you deeply care about.  “Motion Sickness” has brought me to tears on occasion.  The only way a true diss track is going to bring me to tears is if I’m laughing too hard.

This is not to say “Motion Sickness” is devoid of personal attacks.  On the contrary, there’s definitely some spite in the lyrics, and things get personal, and also humorous.  But the song’s purpose and its strength lie in its raw honesty, and the central theme is “this is really painful.”

Warren Beatty is so vain he probably thinks the song is about him, but it is not. The song is about Ryan Adams.

Here’s where it gets a little sticky from my end.  The majority of people reading this blog (yes, I’m looking at both of you) have quite possibly never heard of Ryan Adams.  Now, if I was any kind of professional journalist, I would be faced with the task of somehow introducing Ryan Adams to you, in a succinct, unbiased manner.  Luckily, I’m not a professional journalist, so I can introduce him thusly:  David Ryan Adams is an American singer-songwriter and record producer who has released 17 albums, who has also gained a reputation along the way of being a misogynist asshole.

I’ve never met the guy.  But the failing New York Times published a story in February of 2019 that laid out several accusations of women against Adams. These women claimed that Adams “offered to jumpstart their music careers, then pursued them sexually and in some cases retaliated when they spurned him.”  It may have been possible for Adams to have helped jumpstart these ladies’ careers because after two successful decades in the music industry Adams had some pull, and also because several of these women were young enough that their careers were still in the fledgling stage.  As it turns out, some of the women were young enough that following the publishing of this New York Times article, the FBI became involved.  Yeah.  That young.

I’m not going to reprint what was publicly released from this investigation, but in short, 1) no criminal charges were filed, and 2) I’m confident that most reasonable adults who read the details of what happened walked away thinking “wow, that’s some really inappropriate behavior.” 

Personally, I consider myself fairly open minded when it comes to age difference in a relationship.  I’ve met people who “act their age,” so to speak, and people who seem at a glance to be emotionally much older or younger than their physical characteristics would suggest.  More to the point, most everyone in America is legally an adult at 18, and individuals can make their own decisions.  For these reasons, I don’t necessarily see anything wrong, necessarily, unequivocally, with a 40-year old Ryan Adams being in a relationship with a 20-year old Phoebe Bridgers.  As it turns out, the most egregious thing about Ryan Adams and his pursuit of younger women may not be the age difference, but the simple fact that that Adams has a consistent history of being an abusive asshole (it should be noted that Adams has exhibited similar behavior with older women as well, he does not always discriminate based on age). 

This abusive asshole assessment seems to have been made by Ryan Adams himself, after some thoughtful consideration.  Shortly after the New York Times story was published, Adams went on the defensive and basically denied all allegations.  A year later in July of 2020, however, Adams issued a public statement that read in part, "Having truly realized the harm that I've caused, it wrecked me, and I'm still reeling from the ripples of devastating effects that my actions triggered. No amount of growth will ever take away the suffering I had caused.”  He continued, "I will never be off the hook and I am fully accountable for my harmful behaviour, and will be for my actions moving forward."  Adams also vowed that he was working on staying sober and was getting professional help.  Adams’ written apology was made publicly, but according to at least one of the accusers, Adam’s ex-wife Mandy Moore, there was no private apology that preceded it.  So, some progress perhaps, but not quite there yet.

Maybe it was due to the continuing f’ed up nature of the music industry, maybe it was from Phoebe Bridgers’ desire to move on and to live well, but for whatever reason despite writing and releasing “Motion Sickness,” when you listen to 2017 and 2018 interviews where Bridgers is asked about Ryan Adams she has mostly positive things to say.  Which is sad, if Bridgers’ attitude was just an act based in fear or based in the need to feel accepted in the music industry.  On stage, among her own fanbase Bridgers would describe “Motion Sickness” as “a song about someone who is in their forties and loves video games and hates women.”

“Motion Sickness” can be summed up in its first two lines:

I hate you for what you did

And I miss you like a little kid

That’s it, in a nutshell.  It’s a summary of abusive relationships the likes of which have been transpiring for thousands of years.  Most of us have participated in some fashion, for some amount of time, to some degree, as the abuser or abused in a personal relationship.  People love one another.  People treat one another like shit.  The two states are not always mutually exclusive.

There are no words in the English language

I could scream to drown you out

These lyrics are not diss track material.

While the song’s central theme is the pain of betrayal and the inability to control your own brain, there are some humorous lyrics to be found.  Why does he sing with an English accent, anyway? It probably is too late to change it now. The part about Adams bragging about being in a band when Bridgers was born?  That just comes across as creepy in hindsight. 

As depressing as much of Phoebe Bridgers’ music is, and it is a depressing catalog for the most part, perhaps to a fault, she does have a sense of humor.  “Motion Sickness” is the first track on Bridgers’ release Stranger in the Alps, an album title which originates from the made-for-TV edit of the Coen brothers classic film The Big Lebowski.  You know the scene where the Dude and Walter go over to young Larry’s house, to confront Larry about his homework and the missing briefcase?  And young Larry doesn’t flinch and says nothing?  And Walter has to teach Larry a lesson, by showing young Larry what happens when you f*** a stranger in the a**?

Well, evidently the Coens, knowing there would be a TV version of this movie, adjusted the script for the U.S. network TV audience, and rewrote Walter’s lines, which John Goodman dutifully performed in a separate take, having a wonderful time no doubt.  In the made-for-TV version, Walter gives young Larry the following admonishment for not coming clean, as Walter smashes a crowbar through the windshield of what Walter mistakenly believes to be Larry’s new sportscar: “You see what happens Larry?  You see what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps?”

Funny stuff all round.  Well played Ms. Bridgers.

Turns out, Ryan Adams found a number of strangers in the Alps.  Phoebe Bridgers was just one of them.

Through the trauma, Bridgers has learned to deal with her past, has kept her sense of humor, and from a distance appears to have been living quite well.  She has remained both creative and successful.  She was recently nominated for numerous Grammy awards and her quirky late-night television appearances provided some of the highlights of the pandemic-induced popular music wasteland of 2020.  

I hope that with the passage of time Bridgers can laugh a little about her past.  I gather that she has already moved on and had at least one post-Adams relationship.  This more recent romantic relationship already came to an end, too, and Bridgers has written at least one song about it.  Co-wrote the song, as it turns out.  Marshall Vore co-wrote “Motion Sickness” with Bridgers, and he also co-wrote “I See You” with her. “I See You” is a song about Bridgers and Vore’s own romantic relationship.  Vore still plays drums in her band as far as I know.  Interesting dynamic.  Not always easy I imagine, but this relationship is probably way healthier than Bridgers’ relationship with Adams was.

Wounds heal over time.  Or they don’t.  People change.  Or they don’t.  Either way, simply moving on and living well, when given that option, is probably the way to go.  Some 400-year old wisdom should be trusted.  

Here’s another outlandish proverb that didn’t make the cut in 1640:  don’t be a dick.  And if you see someone you care about being a dick, say something.  Do something about it.

I’ll leave you with Bridgers’ own words, from her Twitter feed after the New York Times article was published:

“It’s been a weird week and I wanted to say a couple things. Thank you from my whole fucking heart to my friends, my bands, my mom.  They all supported and validated me.  They told me that what had happened was fucked up and wrong, and that I was right to feel weird about it.  I couldn’t have done this without them.

Ryan had a network too.  Friends, bands, people he worked with.  None of them held him accountable.  They told him, by what they said or by what they didn’t, that what he was doing was okay.  They validated him.  He couldn’t have done this without them.

Guys, if your friend is acting fucked up, call them out.  If they’re actually your friend, they’ll listen.  That’s the way this all gets better.”

5.12.21