“The Happiest Days of Our Lives/Another Brick in The Wall Part IT”

In celebration of the first week back at school I thought a song “celebrating” the institu-
tion of state-sponsored education would be appropriate. With memories of the freedom of
summer still lingering like a fading sunburn, there’s nothing like a well-worn song to elicit
memories of another time and place. Anywhere but here right? — caught between these insti-
tutional concrete walls. Performed by classic rock stalwarts Pink Floyd, “The Happiest Days of
Our Lives/ Another Brick in The Wall Part II” is not the first song of choice for the purposes
of sentimental escape. Pink Floyd’s subject matter—via Roger Waters’ lyrics—seems to deal
almost exclusively with the darker side of humanity. War, greed, materialism, fascism, isolation,
loneliness and madness are recurring themes that appear throughout Pink Floyd’s recordings.
This song (technically two) is thematically anchored by the idea that education is vot about the
development of people capable of thinking independently and creatively, but rather is about
the production of a lumpen class of fearful “yes” men and women. Is this too heavy a start to
the new school year? Maybe. But we’re here to be educated. Now stand still laddie and shut up.

I don’t recall ever hearing “Another Brick in The Wall Part II,” the primary hit from Pink
Floyd’s operatic “The Wall,” without the lead-in track “The Happiest Days of Our Lives.” The
two songs are so seamlessly joined (in terms of production there is no detectable separation
between tracks) that any separation between them would be disruptive to the listening experi-
ence. But for the sake of simplicity we will divide the song into its respective titles.

“The Happiest Days of Our Lives” begins with the ominous sound of distant helicopters

growing ever louder. Below the apocalyptic clamor of surveillance helicopters are tl
a schoolyard teeming with unruly kids. All these disparate yet somehow complimen
combine and build into the crescendo of Roger Waters’ howling and distorted schc
voice projected through a bullhorn: “You! Yes! You! Stand still laddie!”’ Boom. Whz
dominated by drums and bass guitar and Roger Waters’ spiteful words delivere—hal
spoken — as if he were spitting poison: “When we grew up and went to school thet
tain teachers who would hurt the children in any way they could.” The plodding dri
bass eventually pick up the pace in anticipation of what is to come in the next tracl
sings of fat and psychopathic wives thrashing their teacher-husbands within inches
lives. The song builds to a climax with frenetic yet controlled drumming from Nick
before descending into the recognizable but oddly sterile disco beat (it was 1979 afi
“The Wall” was first released) that characterizes “Another Brick in The Wall Part II

Combined with the dark imagery of the lyrics, the consistent quasi-disco beat si
immerse the song in a kind of auditory irony. Disco is, after all, the music of the “1
tion” —— the soundtrack for hedonism; however, a peculiar sense of loathing is co
the imagery of the lyrics, “We don’t need no thought control,” are joined to the ste
song’s almost tiresome beat — it’s almost the soundtrack to a death-march. One m
“Another Brick in The Wall Part IT” was ever a club hit back in the dying days of d
you imagine white-suited John Travolta look-alikes shaking their groove-thang as th
the song are disseminated through a nightclub full of coked-up patrons? Stranger t
happened.

The song eventually finds its way back to more familiar Pink Floyd territory. Da
Gilmour’s melodic and bluesy guitar solo winds the song down into a soundscape \
fading disco beat is layered underneath the spirited shouting of the kids in a school
seen by a teacher who howls incredulously, “How can you have any pudding if you
your meat?” Like all the songs on “The Wall,” “The Happiest Days of Our Lives//
Brick in The Wall Part Il” emerges from, and disappears into, a constant urban din
of common soundtrack familiar to anyone who lives in a city.

At its heart, “The Wall” is a bleak statement on human isolation and loneliness,
these songs Roger Waters seems to be saying that a conformist-oriented educations
partly to blame. The bricks that contribute to the walls of isolation that human bei:
gifted at constructing, in this case, are the teachers that crush any glimpse of indivi
preferring rather a prescribed and socially constructed model of conformity. We ha
in mind though that these songs grew out of the experience of one person made t
educational system that has since, we hope, evolved. Perhaps, then, the sentiment b
songs is dated.

At the same time, conformity is a major feature of our culture. Remember in tk
lowing 9/11 when George W. Bush in an address to congress said, “You're either w
against us”? No statement could be more demanding of our tacit compliance, nor :
in its demand to silence all opposition. But perhaps more insidious than authority f
ly shouting at us to “stand still” is the surrounding culture of consumption we con
subconsciously buy into. So much of advertising is predicated upon the notion of «
that somehow owning a certain product is going to increase our social standing, mz
attractive and worthy of relationships with others. And yet dissatisfaction seems to
essary outcome of consumerism — thus prompting more consumption. Thought «
indeed.

What’s for Dinner? Garbage, $2.49 a Pou

Ed Ronald, OP Contributor

Like many students I have to watch my money. So, each week I read the local flyers from
the supermarket chains that come in my local papers. There is nothing more exciting than see-

ing that Safeway is selling large bottles of Cheez Whiz for half price. I almost never buy Cheez

Whiz, but it’s hard to pass on a deal like that. Last week I came across something interesting
on the last page of another local grocery store flyer. They were advertising “Chicken Thigh
Portion Barbecue Ribs (Marinated Fresh, $2.49 lb).”

Besides the fact that I have never heard of chicken thigh ribs, the word marinated is enough
to signal a red flag. I recently saw a flyer advertising fresh red snapper. The next week I had a
craving for fish, and remembering the snapper, went into the grocery store near my apartment
to get it. They told me that the only snapper they had was marinated. You don’t have to be a
genius to figure out that the marinated snapper was last week’s fresh snapper now covered in
sauce to hide the stink of rotting fish.

From the picture in the flyer and another clue I was able to make out what chicken thigh
ribs were. On the same page they were advertising marinated chicken thigh kabobs. Someone
at the store came up with the idea that after they cut the meat off decaying chicken thighs,
deodorized them with marinate, and put them on a decorative stick, they could then sell the
left over bones by marinating them as ribs for $2.49 a pound. Clearly the store subscribes to
PT Barnum’s theory that there is a sucker born every minute. The sad thing is that people buy
the stuff. I’m sure that Jessica Simpson, who thought that Buffalo wings came from bison and
that Chicken of the Sea was chicken, would love chicken thigh ribs. It’s not news that corpora-
tions will do anything to make money, but putting a fancy title on bones that would be consid-
ered garbage anywhere but in a third world country and selling them for a premium price is
pretty low.

If I’m ever at a friend’s house for dinner I’m offered Chicken Thigh Portion Barbecue Ribs,
I will politely decline and ask for Cheez Whiz. At least Cheez Whiz doesn’t pretend that its

8 THE OTHER PRESS SEPTEMBER 21 2006

 

 

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