1. "Way Away"
The first track off their debut album, "Bread and Circus," this song reminds me of the experience of living in New York (or any crowded city, really): "Line of people to pass you by/posing sympathy with their whitewash eyes." It's also emblematic of my antisocial tendencies: "Urge to run away from the crowd/and mourn all alone." I think the best line though is, "Small talk hangs like a dirty cloud/saying nothing real but deafening loud." To put it another way, it seems everywhere you go, there are obnoxiously loud people barking at you but saying nothing of significance. It's like Shakespeare's famous line, "(Life) is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." I think that's true for most of America, and it was certainly true for the loud, in-your-face bands of this song's era. Toad's soft, almost gentle folk rock was the antithesis to that, and fans like me lapped it up. 2. "Torn"
I find this song to be one of the most accurate depictions of depression, and since I used to suffer with bouts of depression myself, I can write this with some level of authority. Over mournful chords, Glen attests, "I feel nothing/besides this pain." Then he asks, "Am I two souls?/One hard, one whole?" In other words, during depression, there's the part of you that bristles and hardens to the outside world to withstand the pain (the aforementioned "hard soul"), but it's not really you. The real you is inside and crumbling. Then later, "Am I real?/I don't want to feel anything anymore." Depression can become so crippling, it gets surreal. You sometimes don't know what's real anymore, not even yourself. 3. "Throw It All Away"
This song is every hoarder's nightmare. I'm not saying I'm a hoarder, but I can relate to holding onto things from my past for just a little too longbe it physical objects or figurative ones. "Help me to empty out this house," Glen sings, "all I've gathered all these days/and thought I couldn't do without/and throw it all away." It's also about letting go of the past or one of your past selves, something I can painfully relate to: "Take the dreams that should have died/The ones that kept you lying awake/when you should've been alright/and throw 'em all away." This song also probably has my favorite symbolic imagery of their entire catalog: "Tear up the calendar you bought/and throw the pieces to the sky/Confetti falling down like rain/like a parade to usher in your life." Beyond the inspiring lyrics though, I think this song illustrates how expert Toad is at creating little musical nuances. Glen sings the title line differently almost every time, but it's always appropriate, whether it's slightlyand purposefullysped up off tempo or dragged out in the end like a prayerful release. 4. "There Comes a Time"
As I wrote before, Glen's vocals often come across as a lost little boy, and that's never plainer than on this rarely heard track that was never officially released on an album. (I downloaded it from a concert performance.) He sings about the reality of leaving your safe and comfortable but closeted home life behind and entering the Real World: "There comes a time in life/Pull on your coat and go outside/Taste the vinegar, you'll find bitter life." In other words, it's a coming-of-age story we all experience at one point in our lives: that dreaded moment of growing up. Still, if you never leave the house, you also won't share in life's pleasures: "Taste a second time/A sweet surprise, a sweet surprise." That's the two-sided nature of living, I suppose.
Michael Perone
Michael Perone has written for The Baltimore Sun, Baltimore City Paper, The Island Ear (now titled Long Island Press), and The Long Island Voice, a short-lived spinoff of The Village Voice. He currently works as an Editor in Manhattan. And he still thinks Michael Keaton was the best Batman.
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