Three White Horses, by Andrew Bird
Three Life Lessons, by AP
“I may have missed this release 11 years ago…but I like this one. No clue what he’s talking about…but I kind of like that in a song.”
That’s what I texted a couple of friends recently when I shared the song “Three White Horses” by Andrew Bird.
This isn’t a music review by a music expert. Let’s make that clear. And I’m not an Andrew Bird groupie. Are they called Birdies? Or Birders? They should be. They likely flock to his shows. Maybe they host a musical “big year”, an annual competition to see how many shows they can attend…
Anyway, I am none of that. I just like songs that have mojo. Songs that make me think. Songs that give off energy to press on to fight the good fight. Songs that give one permission to sing along. Or move one to dust off their air drums or air guitar collection kept in the “Do Not Disturb” closet for too long. I like songs that give us just enough to want more but not too much to wear us out. It's a song that gives enough but doesn’t give it all away. My aim isn’t to tell you what to feel but to point out how I think this song is so great at making you feel. You get to fill in the gap yourself with what it all means…
Like I said, I have no idea what Andrew Bird is singing about, and I kind of like that in a song. Especially in a song like this that has so many other elements that make it so good. There is a vibe in this song that I suspect would be ruined with lyrics that make perfect sense.
I can sense someone right now shaking their head. Please don’t write me back saying, dude how do you not know what three white horses in a line means? Stop it. Stop it. I’m sure you know. I actually don’t want to know. I’m not trying to be rude Mr. Smarty Vocal Pants, I’m just confident that if you try to give me your Wikipedia version of Andrew Bird’s lyrics or try to paint some picture for me that you have in your head, it just might ruin the song for me. And there is a reason why…
THERE IS MAGIC IN MYSTERY. There is beauty in surprise. And this song has both mystery and surprise. And I believe that if you spend too much time trying to sort it out, you’ll miss the point. You’ll miss the splendor of it. Some things are meant to be unknown. Some mysteries will stay unsolved. That’s ok. It’s ok to keep something that’s meant to be a surprise, a surprise. In fact, three things come to mind on this topic…
Point 1. I’ve spent time on song lyric websites in the past. It was usually a letdown. I almost always walked away with either less appreciation for a song or more confusion. And seldom did one agree. Random internet people were trying to get into the head of an artist that they’ll never meet, to create their version of the story, and then try to explain it to people like us, who they’ll never meet. It just doesn’t work. In the appreciation of good art, I tend to agree that, “beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.” Not you, a random lyric lawyer trying to present your closing arguments to the swayable hung jury. We have a weird urge at times to know the back story of the back story. And then to place specific meaning on a certain detail we’ve mined up. I get it. I love a good “how it’s made” detail. But there is a time and a place for it. And I’d argue that place isn’t most art. Cue the arguments. We can debate that, but here is my general rule with music lyrics; if it’s not obvious, don’t fixate on it. Because when you do, you are most likely missing something else great. A great piece of art appeals to the masses, and might be for entirely different reasons. That’s ok.
Point 2. Books are always better than the movies that are made about them. It’s impossible to turn a 300-page book packed full of details into a 2-hour movie and not lose out on some of those details that make up the storyline. The setup, the conflict, and the characters that the author can write are richer, given they have more time than the movie producer can convey those things on film. But, even more important than that, it’s because when reading your brain has an amazing ability to add color to the black and white pages. We design the stage, we dress the characters, and we interpret the feel. Sometimes a writer will guide those thoughts and other times our minds do it all on their own. And in my opinion, that’s just the way that it should be. Then you see the film. Waaaait a minute. Wait a minute. Timmy’s not 10 feet tall. Ricky’s not wearing a red suit. And they cut Miss Crucial? That’s not right. Because that’s not how you read it. That’s not what your mind came up with. Some things you can happily adjust and others make no sense at all. What does make sense though is that we all interpret things in unique and fascinating ways. And that’s ok. Hang on, that’s not just ok, that’s blow your mind kind of cool. I once was reading a book out loud to three of my kids. I stopped and asked, hey what’s this brave mouse look like to you? I gave them a little time to think, and then all three had completely different answers. It was amazing. We laughed with wonder, it was so cool. It didn’t matter that they were different. Their minds came up with something completely unique that worked for them. They designed the story as they heard it. You can’t do that with movies. Someone else designs the set. This is why books are always better than movies.
Point 3. Speaking of movies, they aren’t all bad. That’s not my point. There are some really good ones. One of my favorites is Shawshank Redemption. In that movie, there is a fantastic scene that drives home my point of there being magic in mystery. The main character, Andy, who is a trusted prisoner who has been given some extra privilege, finds his way into the guard’s office and locks the door. All this just to play a foreign language opera record over the loudspeakers so that all of the inmates in the prison could hear its beauty. That scene, where everyone stops what they are doing and leans in to listen to the gift they’ve been given, and the smile on Andy’s face while he’s doing it, is just wonderful. Set aside the serenity of the scene, heightened by the magnificence of the music, here is what gives this scene its punch. Andy’s friend Red, the narrator of the story, says this:
I have no idea to this day what them two Italian ladies were singin' about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I like to think they were singin' about something so beautiful it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it.
I tell you, those voices soared. Higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away...and for the briefest of moments -- every last man at Shawshank felt free.
Mic drops. And I just now realized, I could have just shared that quote to make my point and then walked away…but I won’t. My hope is that that quote will help direct your attention to the awesomeness of this song. Which we better get back to...
As I was listening to Spotify recently, Three White Horses came on as a recommended song. It caught me off guard. I literally stopped what I was doing at my desk and said, whoa, what…is…this? Then I played it again. I was air drumming, bobbing my head, and singing threeeeeee whiiite horseessss…when you blah blah blah…
I love the phenomenon of the first runs of a great song track. Not all unlike the “first tracks” of a ski run after the mountain has been groomed. These fresh tracks feel different. They stand out. More than the beats, more than the rhythm, and more than the words…is the feeling you get from the song. It’s got mojo. It sparks nostalgia. It calls back to the past. It harkens to the future. Then it motivates you in the present moment. Somehow it does ALL of that. This feels a little like a time warp whiplash, as memories of hopes and motivations, images of failures and opportunities flash before your thoughts.
How does it do this? Let me break down how I think this song does it. With very little attention to the actual meaning of the words.
The song opens with a low and simple bass guitar. If you don’t know the song you don’t know where it’s headed next. But, its rhythmic beat takes you somewhere. There is anticipation of what’s coming next. It could go anywhere, even after numerous listens your mind could come up with a variety of alternate routes. 16 beats of delayed gratification… 1,2,3,4… (then lower) 1,2,3,4… (back up) 1,2,3,4… (almost there) 1,2,3,4…and then a subtle double tap of the cymbal to break up the beat for just a quick second to set up the first surprise. A simple, short, and sweet guitar lick. Is it called a lick? That’s a weird word for a ditty. Whatever it is…the music comes alive…the notes talk. The guitar sings the chorus without words before we even hear a word of the song. Go listen. I’ll wait. We are 20 seconds into this song and it is already gold.
Let’s pause for a second and reflect on those first few guitar notes. Any shorter and you might miss it. Any longer it may overstay its welcome. But as is…it’s magic. It’s a beautiful start and sets up nicely the other gold to follow. The finger-picked notes guide the lyrics Andrew is about to sing. The music holds the key to the map for the journey ahead. Andrew might be the lead singer, but he’s really not the leader. The music is the guide. The words that follow those first notes are just reflections or reactions to the gift that’s already been given. The voices to follow are like an echo of what was seen and heard in the music.
More bass beats. It’s the current of the song throughout the entire song. The bass keeps the musical guide moving along and helps usher in the guests (and ghosts) that we will visit on this 3-minute journey. The hero, always curious, asks, “Where are we headed?” The guide, always steady, says, “Stay with me please.” The hero, somewhat impatient, always on a mission, asks, “Will you connect me to the magic?” The guide, always understanding, always optimistic, responds, “I got you. Just follow me.” The bass plays on, and the lead follows…
As do we. The second surprise is the first vocals. Another soft double tap of the cymbal, which says, pay attention. Check this out. And boom. Enter Andrew’s voice. It’s the perfect pitch, tempo, and volume. His voice resonates like another instrument. It’s so simple and so good it surprises you. That’s two times within the first 30 seconds, that I was caught off guard and had expected the song to go another direction. And yet, it took me on the path to a place I couldn’t predict. A better place. Where I landed I found myself struck by an unfamiliar, yet unmistakable charm…standing next to three white horses. Brace yourself, you too may get whisked away. Then he repeats the line. Just to make sure we don’t get lost in the vibes. Hey you, stay with me, I said three white horses. But not really. Remember, it’s not really about the words. In this song, the words are just cargo ships delivering a freight of feels. That’s the magic of this song. We could rewrite it, three white houses. Or free night courses. Doesn’t matter. Dude, you still don’t know what white horses represent? Come on, man. I obviously have my take on what it all means. But, honestly, I’d rather not think that this song or that lyric has just one meaning. It’s bigger and bolder than that. Besides, I like my coffee black to drink and my paper white to create. But I like my lyrics as grey as possible to sing. What if a lyric meant death or life? What if it represented order or chaos? What if represented sorrow or joy? What if it represented a little bit of all of that? That’s what I want. I want a lyric that dances with all the feels. The full circle of all of life’s feels, all in a line. The horses represent whatever they are supposed to represent for you. It could be life, death, and everything in between. And Andrew’s vocal instrument delivers that message, and those feels, in the most convincing way. It’s simple, it’s mysterious, it’s poetic. Let’s not keep these horses or the poet waiting, let’s keep moving…
He says it twice just to make sure you heard him once. Then he asks his friends to join him and the three of them (probably riding flying horses) for a third time repeat the message, this time in unison. It’s just as simple, mysterious, and poetic, but this time it’s also angelic. It lifts you up and dials you in. And, as it should, Andrew’s voice carries the trio. Like their falsetto voices, this church-like chorus lifts us higher than our normal range of perception. It really makes you think.
At the risk of sounding like I’m talking out of both sides of my mouth, I have a thought on the word “somebody” that we hear in this line. The magic in that lyric isn’t just the word somebody. The magic comes from how it’s said and who it’s said with. “Somebody” is said with somebody (the angelic falsetto boys) and harkens our minds to somebody else. Or somebody we need. That’s the nostalgia that a good lyric can spark that I’m talking about. You know the word that’s being used, it’s a simple word, but the object of the word is vague and complex. Leaving your ears and your brain to do your own thinking. To paint your own picture. Even if you can’t pinpoint who that “somebody” is, you just know the thought of somebody matters. We aren’t being led to reflect on our favorite flavor of ice cream, this is somebody. This has depth. This song is making us connect to something profound and meaningful. As I said, it’s got mojo.
As the song continues we hear more words or phrases that are recognizably weighty. “What’s so easy”, “say goodbye”, “gonna miss her”, and “when you come to die” …are all heavy vibes. The tune, the tone, and the delivery pack a punch. It’s sad with a side of happy. The nostalgic feeling of times past and time continuing to march on. Memories of the past and thoughts on the future flood in. Our brains have the amazing ability to do that at light speed. One thought can feel like a lifetime in that second and the next second 20 more memories flash in. Amazing. And then, in comes the third surprise. Andrew gifts us with some time to reflect. We get 30 seconds of eerily awesome music. I’m no music genius but 30 seconds seems like a long time to break in the middle of a song. Andrew doesn’t seem to mind, he understands. He knows something heavy just happened. We need a little time to think. He honors the musical guide. No words. Just the same bass guiding us with the rhythm, a simple snare drum, some mild humming and light whistling, and a guitar whammy bar so terrifying it could keep you up at night. And yet, it’s so terrific you can’t stop listening. It sings to us. Listen closely, it’s actually singing back exactly what Andrew just sang. It’s a lyric-free version of the same heavy vibe. Made even heavier with some wonderfully eerie music. It’s like the ghost of memories past meets the ghost of memories future. And as they sing together our present moment stands still as we sit there in awe of their interaction.
Peering in on the musical ghosts, we are led to confront our own past and our own pending future. Andrew knows we can’t wrestle those thoughts for too long, that if we do we may miss the present point. So, the bass kicks in and the tempo picks up. Our heart beats the drum a little faster. Andrew and the angelic choir sing louder. The rhythm and the chorus repeat and rise to a crescendo that snaps us back to the present moment. Calling us to action, the three white horses chorus repeats three times. In case you haven’t noticed, things are just better in threes.
We are on the home stretch now. 30 seconds left. At this point, it would be better if the song didn’t end. But it has to. Not just because all songs do. But because this one is aiming to motivate action. When it finally ends, after this new wave of energy you feel, manifested in the form of inspiration and hopefully a few air drums, the music stops. And it ends with Andrew singing one last haunting solo of a lyric “somebody when you come to die.”
And with that, he’s gone. We are at our final destination. What a trip. Let’s rewind a quick second and listen to that last part one more time. What’s going on here? Why does this part of the song give us goosebumps? It’s because of the nostalgic adventure it takes us on. And because of the motivation it leaves you with. There is intentionality in this song. Every part of it. Where it takes us and where it aims to leave us is a beautiful thing.
It’s often said, that it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it that matters. Similarly, what we find in “Three White Horses”, in terms of its lyrics, is that it’s not what you sing, it’s how you sing it that matters. And as I’ve listened to this song over and over, I’d also argue that musically speaking it’s not what you play, it’s how you play it that matters.
This song could be a nostalgia anthem of sorts. Played before the start of a creative session, during a workout, or at the close of a long day. It definitely made my “inspo” playlist. When I need a little extra push, I saddle up with three white horses. The ride always quells my nerves and lightens my fear. I’m filled with gratitude, hope, and determination. I’m motivated to action.
In summary, here are three life lessons I learned from three white horses:
1. There is magic in mystery. Honor the gift of surprise. There is more around us than first meets the eye. You can’t unlearn something you already know, but you can be more aware of what’s around you and find something new to learn or appreciate. Be attentive. Be curious. Be thankful. Soak up the blessings all around you.
2. It’s not what you live, it’s how you live it. When you live intentionally, that shoulda coulda woulda whammy bar won’t keep you up at night. Meaning, there is a direct correlation between doing hard things and a good night’s sleep. Know your strengths and interests. Raise your expectation bar. Be courageous. Do hard things. Rest well.
3. Nostalgia motivates action. Yes, it’s sad with a side of happy, but nostalgia forces us to look back and look ahead. It’s sad some memories are gone, and sad that one day we will be gone, but at the same time we can also be so grateful and full of joy for having lived it. Our life history teaches us, and our future inspires us, but we only get to live in the present. Our present actions simultaneously honor and learn from the past AND hope and prepare for the future. Which snaps us back to the present. Our focus is then to make the most of today. We are making memories today that will become nostalgic moments tomorrow. The way we live will make us proud of the legacy we leave when we come to die.
If the three white horses don’t put a little hop in your step, or a little tear in your eye, well, then give it another spin. I hope one white horse makes you ponder the past. I hope one white horse stirs up the feels for the future. And I hope one white horse inspires you to act today. I hope…
Giddy up, and God be praised!
AP