Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots, translated.

Compare this chart-topperi :

I wish I found some better sounds no one’s ever heard,

I want to seem original to you even though I haven’t done the required reading to know what already exists in this world, that I may understand what’s already been tried before, but I’m still under the impression that new is better, which I take to mean anything that white males don’t, can’t, or won’t do.ii

I wish I had a better voice that sang some better words,

I wish my parents weren’t poor, or that I even comprehended just how poor they really were. Maybe if I wasn’t so dumb and lazy, even though this is no fault of my own, I’d work harder to improve my abilities instead of wishing for lottery tickets and space virgins.

I wish I found some chords in an order that is new,

I wish I had the cultivation and leisure to learn the musical chords that already exist.

I wish I didn’t have to rhyme every time I sang,

I wish this slam poetry thing I do could rightly be called “singing.” Who said white males don’t understand oppression ?

I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink,

I’ve stumbled upon this phenomenon known as “neoteny,” wherein I’m physically mature but emotional and intellectually retarded. It seems rather unfair that this should be so given that I was never told of this non-noumenon previously and that I’ve since “come to expect” that with age comes maturity dicto simpliciter.

But now I’m insecure and I care what people think.

Like a lost child, I look around in a fear of the unknown, trembling in the knowledge that I can do little or nothing to change either myself or my environment. I’m fucked, I know it, and it sucks.

My name’s ‘Blurryface’ and I care what you think.
My name’s ‘Blurryface’ and I care what you think.

I want to be anonymous because I believe that there’s power in the undifferentiated mob. I want my privacy to be respected because I have hyooman rightz ! I’m glad that Google Maps blurs out the faces and license plates on cars ; it’s very considerate and thoughtful of them to treat cars and I like the specks of featureless grey gruel that we are.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,

My childhood was far more innocent than this never-ending-adolescence I’m currently struggling with. Back when I still lived at home before I finished my Masters in Taco Studies I just had to go to school, come home, and not have to worry about where my next meal was going to come from or when my next student loan payment was going to be withdrawn from my government-backed line of credit. I miss the twirly slide.

When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.

I need someone to run their fingers through my hair and tell me that everything will be alright. Is there an app I can use for this ?

We’re stressed out.

I don’t understand anything because I have Dunning-Kruger syndrome.

Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young,
How come I’m never able to identify where it’s coming from,
I’d make a candle out of it if I ever found it,
Try to sell it, never sell out of it, I’d probably only sell one,

My “great nation” has lost so much of its manufacturing base that I aspire to be the blind kid selling pencils on the street corner or some kind of a latter-day matchstick girl, selling found objects to strangers who buy from me only out of pity for my sorry state of existence.

It’d be to my brother, ’cause we have the same nose,
Same clothes homegrown a stone’s throw from a creek we used to roam,
But it would remind us of when nothing really mattered,
Out of student loans and treehouse homes we all would take the latter.

My brother would pity me, wouldn’t he ? He’d have to, we have the same physical features and the same parents. Playing pretend is more fun than playing for real. I want to stay forever young.

My name’s ‘Blurryface’ and I care what you think.
My name’s ‘Blurryface’ and I care what you think.

See above.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.

Idem.

We used to play pretend, give each other different names,

Remember how we used to make up names for things, including each other, in the hopes that the superficial nomenclature would change the fundamental essence of underlying entity with only the most minimal of effort, like the how the Holy Cross Hospital became the Second Reformed Hospital ? That sure was fun.

We would build a rocket ship and then we’d fly it far away,

Escape from reality was so much easier as a child, now it requires a pretty serious amount of weed.

Used to dream of outer space but now they’re laughing at our face,
Saying, “Wake up, you need to make money.”
Yo.

What’s this “personal responsibility” thing that old people are always yammering about ? Why can’t they just relax and give us a  “fairer” share of their income so that we can become more edumakated. I mean, it’s not like they’re doing anything with it. Jeez they’re unprogressive… and mean !! Don’t they know how expensive good herb is ?

We used to play pretend, give each other different names,
We would build a rocket ship and then we’d fly it far away,
Used to dream of outer space but now they’re laughing at our face,
Saying, “Wake up, you need to make money.”
Yo.

Samesame.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol’ days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.

I want my mommy.

Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, bunny
We used to play pretend, wake up, you need the money
Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, bunny
We used to play pretend, wake up, you need the money
We used to play pretend, give each other different names,
We would build a rocket ship and then we’d fly it far away,
Used to dream of outer space but now they’re laughing at our face,
Saying, “Wake up, you need to make money.”
Yo.

Life’s not fair. This is news to me and I don’t like it.

With this chart-topperiii :

I’ve paid my dues
Time after time.
I’ve done my sentence
But committed no crime.
And bad mistakes ‒
I’ve made a few.
I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I’ve come through.

(And I need just go on and on, and on, and on)

We are the champions, my friends,
And we’ll keep on fighting ’til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
‘Cause we are the champions of the world.

I’ve taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all

But it’s been no bed of roses,
No pleasure cruise.
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
And I ain’t gonna lose.

(And I need just go on and on, and on, and on)

We are the champions, my friends,
And we’ll keep on fighting ’til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
‘Cause we are the champions of the world.

We are the champions, my friends,
And we’ll keep on fighting ’til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
‘Cause we are the champions.

Who says tragicomedy is dead ?

___ ___ ___

  1. This isn’t a to belittle Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun and their talents in particular, merely to shine a mirror on the disfigured horror that is their mainstream fanbase. After all, there’s really nothing special about them. If not Tyler and Josh, it’d be someone else looking not entirely dissimilar and emitting very much the same flavour of metatardation, just as a corn dog from this county fair is for all intents and purposes identical to the corn dog at that county fair, and for the same braindamaged reasons and in the same guilty pleasure way.

    FTR, Stressed Out is currently at #2 on Billboard’s Mainstream Top 40 and has already been atop several local radio station charts for the past month. []

  2. Every culture and society has a scapegoat : Nazis had Jews, Soviets had Chechens,* and USistan has old white males. You’re no better than the rest of them, you know. In fact, the witch you choose to burn is highly indicative of what you’re willing to live with. Did you know that your choice to villainise the age-old voices of the Greek and Latin traditions of the Mediterranean means that you’re basically African ? True story.

    ___ ___

    *ascii_butugychag: But see, in the other USG, you could actually take up those professions and still live like a white man. Furnace stoker, night watchman, etc. were beloved trades of thinking folk (paid same as engineer, believe it).
    mircea_popescu: Well yes, because racist empire.

    ascii_butugychag: l0lwut.
    mircea_popescu: Soviets had a Russian > Cecen thing going, as a matter of course if not as a matter of law.

    ascii_butugychag: Ah that, yes.
    mircea_popescu: Well that, yes. What do you think is always and forever at the fundament of “you could [] still live like a white man” ? Gotta define white man! Through the exclusion of someone, somewhere. []

  3. We Are The Champions by Queen, from their 1977 album News of the World, reached #2 on the UK Singles Chart, and #4 on the Billboard Hot 100. Anyone who says that 40 years isn’t a long time in the digital age need only look at the messages and moralities embedded into these two songs to see just how much the “biggest bestest blahblah” has degenerated. []

8 thoughts on “Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots, translated.

  1. I’ve been on one of those weird >24h cycles lately, and found myself occasionally awake at 5am, when the only things to watch on T.V. are a few music channels that play straight video mixes. Otherwise I would have only heard of this song now — the former, that is; not the epic of epics that is Queen, one of the few groups I would list when asked: “who played good music?” Anyway, this blurryface thing also caught my attention as potential fodder for the blog I haven’t created yet. To cut to the chase, you nailed it. I literally clapped while reading this:

    Escape from reality was so much easier as a child, now it requires a pretty serious amount of weed.

  2. Hunter Dunavin says:

    You’re probably expecting a lot of hate from twenty one pilots fans lol, but it’s chill. I mean we’re all human with different thoughts and opinions. I’m a big fan of Tyler and Josh’s work, and although I don’t agree with it, I respect your opinion. I’m sure I speak for most of the fan base here as well.

    • Hunter, the funny thing is that I find the song pretty catchy and I really don’t mind it at all. Will I remember it in 10 years ? Probably not, however. It has too many of the hallmarks of a one-hit-wonder. Anyways, thanks for dropping by.

  3. […] not “personally identifiable” about names, but maybe it’s subtle “blurryface” reference for the […]

  4. […] previously but in a different genre of music, let’s do that 2013 tune that still gets more airplay than […]

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