In Defense of Poppery, III: "Handlebars"

Pop example: Flobots, "Handlebars"

What redeems it: This defense of poppery is a bit of a departure from past defenses, in that I've chosen for my subject a song that needs absolutely no defense at all.

Anyone who's heard the Flobots' "Handlebars" on the radio for the first time, surrounded by White Stripes and One Republic, knows the chilling genius of this song -- and I mean "chilling" in its original, running-down-your-spine sense, not as in "we wuz all chillin' in my crib."

But let me expound on its perfection, anyway.

"Handlebars" starts out with a simple plucked guitar intro, followed by a canned voice singing "I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars." A light drum comes in before the rapping begins.

I laughed aloud the first time I heard this intro. It was so childlike that I just about forgave the surely false stipulation that the bike literally had no handlebars. (What the singer meant, I figured, was "look Ma, no hands!" but saying "I can ride my bike with no hands" would have been much worse.) The apparent mistake added to the childishness, and the distance of the through-an-old-radio mixing makes it seem somehow quaint, but also ironic.

The first verse follows, which in its entirety reads:

Look at me, look at me
hands in the air like it's good to be
ALIVE
and I'm a famous rapper
even when the paths are all crookedy

I can show you how to do-si-do
I can show you how to scratch a record
I can take apart the remote control
And I can almost put it back together

I can tie a knot in a cherry stem
I can tell you about Leif Ericson
I know all the words to "De Colores"
And I'm proud to be an American

Me and my friend saw a platypus
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:

Again, I laughed aloud. Imagine any small child you know saying "Me and my friend..." and you'll likely start laughing, too.

This verse, though, relates almost entirely to the singer's status as a "famous rapper," and where it diverts attention from that, it's clearly intending to show devolution on the part of the mind of the narrator -- again, childishness takes control, to the point where the things the rapper brags about are increasingly unrelated to any actual accomplishments: "Me and my friend saw a platypus" is charmingly irrelevant, and the exact type of thing a child would brag about. (Having not yet had the chance to do anything substantial in life, kids focus on what they've seen.)

"Guess how long it took" implies that the singer is seeking approval -- but the pace of the verse is frantic enough (though very controlled, and this is important) that there's no chance for any adult to answer. (This is also important.)

The overexcited, childish narrator goes on to point out that he can "keep rhythm with no metronome" and "see your face on the telephone" in the second chorus.

The second verse builds more frenetically than the first, which was all more or less the same pace -- where before you might imagine a child who'd just eaten too much cake, now you're picturing an adult who's begun to experience mild delusions:

Look at me
Look at me
Just called to say that it's good to be
ALIVE

In such a small world
All curled up with a book to read
I can make money open up a thrift store
I can make a living off a magazine
I can design an engine sixty four
Miles to a gallon of gasoline

I can make new antibiotics
I can make computers survive aquatic conditions
I know how to run a business
And I can make you wanna buy a product

Movers shakers and producers
Me and my friends understand the future
I see the strings that control the systems
I can do anything with no assistance

The content is different, as the tension ratchets up thanks to a faster pace and higher tone of voice on the part of the rapper -- this verse is about technology and business, building a better engine or medicine, or marketing something so that everyone will want to buy it -- but there's still something disturbingly childlike in the way the content is expressed.

This was when I stopped laughing. The danger of someone who has a "look at me! Look at me!" attitude and either is capable or believes himself capable of inventing and wielding this kind of technology is obvious.

Obvious to the listener, but also obvious to the singer. From the first line, the irony of the song's lyrics has been obvious. At first, the danger of a childish approach to life isn't clear, since the stakes are so low -- so you know the words to "De Colores" and can tell me about Leif Ericson, eh? Well, isn't that cute.

There's an element of cute in the second verse as well (why a thrift store? And isn't it funny that he's claiming to do all this stuff he obviously can't do?), but by the time he claims that "me and my friends understand the future" and that he can "see the strings that control the system," and that he doesn't need "assistance," that's scary.

A trumpet comes in at this point and gets a pretty sweet interlude. Go trumpets in popular music. I'm sure it was a practical consideration -- the group might have a trumpeter, or might just like trumpets -- but I also think there's something to be said for references to trumpets throughout the books of the Apocalypse, and angels often being depicted with trumpets, particularly when the final judgment is at hand.

The second verse's chorus has the singer claiming he can lead the nation with a microphone and split the atoms of a molecule -- what seems to me an obvious reference to a nuclear bomb, especially considering the final verse.

The third verse, the loudest of all, is the scariest:

Look at me
Look at me
Driving and I won't stop
And it feels so good to be
Alive and on top

My reach is global
My tower secure
My cause is noble
My power is pure

I can hand out a million vaccinations
Or let 'em all die in exasperation
Have 'em all healed of their lacerations
Have 'em all killed by assassination

I can make anybody go to prison
Just because I don't like 'em and
I can do anything with no permission
I have it all under my command

The forced slow-down of the four-word lines emphasizes them -- and the horror of the next stanza negates them. Handing out a million vaccinations would be a great thing to do, sure -- but it seems equally likely that the narrator might choose to "let 'em all die in exasperation." Power is the point, not healing or helping. The childishness falls away to reveal a lunatic.

Here's where I'd like to remind us all of the first verse, where it said "I'm proud to be an American."

If you haven't been thinking about it all along, start now: This song seems to be commenting not only on personal hubris -- of a kind particular to individual Americans -- but also on American foreign policy. With a Unabomber-like perspective on the world, the narrator of the third verse indicts our country, for making unilateral decisions regarding other countries' status as our enemies ("with no permission"), for detaining prisoners (at Gitmo and elsewhere: "I can make anybody go to prison / Just because I don't like 'em") without trial or charge, for not insisting on vaccinations going to countries whose people can't afford them because profit margins are more important.

I also read into the song an indictment of the Bush administration, under which we've seen all these things happen. (Minus, perhaps, the reluctance to hand out vaccinations, which was around before the current president.)

The final chorus is extended and increasingly frantic, though the singer never loses control -- making the effect even more chilling (because he's not just plain crazy):

I can guide a missile by satellite
By satellite
By satellite
And I can hit a target through a telescope
Through a telescope
Through a telescope
And I can end the planet in a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust

Heightening the tension further, the climactic "I can end the planet in a holocaust" line is finished by the sound of a roar, as if from a crowd. The word "holocaust" is followed by this roar each time, but it begs the question: Is the crowd cheering for the holocaust to come, or is it screaming in agony because of it?

The ambiguity works perfectly. Either answer is unconscionable. We can't let this happen.

The line "in a holocaust" is shouted every time, amplified as though by a microphone into a fascist crowd. We're reminded of Hitler, of course, and the memory of the Third Reich is now imposed on the vision of current-world America we got from the second and third verses.

The song ends the way it began: "I can ride my bike with no handlbars," piped in as though through an old-tyme stereo, and childlike -- as though to remind us that horrible, nuclear ends like the climax of the song, start with the individual personal hubris of bragging about riding bikes.

If we don't grow up as a country, in other words, we'll end up destroying the world, or ending up responsible for something far beyond what we thought ourselves capable of (our "power is pure").

The personal interests of each enlightened, individualistic citizen of the U.S. (or the world) may add up to mayhem.

Or derive your own moral.

What a relief that there are pop artists out there concerned enough about the world situation and talented enough to not resort to didacticism, to create this song. I've only briefly touched on the several layers of political and ethical statements going on in this song, and it changes -- and changes me -- every time I hear it. (And there are layers -- for instance, think of "I can take apart the remote control" in the context of setting off missiles, or in how it relates to the claims for mastery of technology in the second verse. It's packed with this stuff.)

The only way to "get it" is to listen; so do.

10 stars on the Richter scale.