Unfortunately, the CoronavIrus is everywhere. It raises the questions; Who knew what and when did they know it? The answer may surprise you.
Now, firmly in the midst of the the Covid-19 Pandemic (otherwise known as “The Big Suck”), it is only human nature to look back to before the emergence of this living hellscape to seek out who knew what and when and how this could all have been prevented. Filtering through all of the noise of the not so distant past won’t do anything to change our current predicament, but it could help us in the future to find a voice that may have had some foresight, some inkling of what was to come.
And that voice may belong to Coby Dick.
Who is Coby Dick, you ask? Your lack of familiarity may be due to the fact that Coby Dick is actually a stage name that Jacoby Shaddix abandoned a number of years ago.
A stage name that he used as the lead singer of Papa Roach.
Still not ringing a bell? You know…”Scars,” “Getting Away With Murder,” “Forever.”¹
C’mon. You have to know “Last Resort”…as in “cut my life into pieces. This is my last resort.“
Nothing?
Regardless of your acquaintance with Coby (or Jacoby) and his band, the point is that it is nearly impossible to listen to the lyrics from the Papas’ 2017 release Crooked Teeth and not hear coronavirus slathered over every word.
On the album’s first track “Break The Fall”, he says “But every day is the same, a demolition. We are the marginalized but not the victims,” seemingly recognizing the mind-numbing repetitiveness of the quarantine life while still acknowledging that the real victims aren’t those of us relegated to our couches.
On the title track, Coby could be singing from the perspective of an inmate of an insane asylum when he says “All alone in a room full of misfits…Paranoid, struggling, I gotta kick this,” but it just as easily could be that of a hospitalized Covid-19 victim. The repeated line “Everybody’s looking at me, staring at me,” resonates with any of us that have had the unfortunate experience of coughing or even clearing our throats in public since the outbreak.
“My Medication,” the album’s third track has an even more obvious allusion the our present state of affairs. Perhaps again sung from the viewpoint of an infected person, Coby says “Every time I take a breath it’s like I’m losin’ my life.” And when he says “But I will never forget I need you, my medication,” you have to wonder if he’s referring to a heretofore unknown cure or perhaps the Plaquenil/Azithromycin coctail being touted as a possible therapy.
Later, “American Dreams” continues the coronavirus allegory. Coby, clearly on a higher plane of consciousness, asks “Have you ever thought that war was a sickness?” and while most of us probably never had, that all changed about a month ago. He then takes aim at our politicians, our pundits, our celebrity doctors who no doubt have aided the spiraling devastation with their untruths. He lambastes them with “So give me the truth. Don’t tell me your lies. ‘Cause it’s harder to breathe when you’re buried alive.” And then comes his chilling forecast of life in places like Wuhan, Northern Italy and more recently New York City. “‘Cause their neighborhood ain’t a safe place. Got us all wearing black every Sunday and I’m growing numb to the violence. Sing along to the sounds of the sirens.”
The references just keep coming rapid-fire. Depression fueled alcohol consumption up 55% you say²? On “Sunrise Trailer Park” you’ll find “Self medicating my own depression man. I drank a bottle after breakfast…I need a drink to feel right. Party with my homies to escape from real life.”
Is there any intimation of the coming 24-hour, all virus all the time news cycle? Absolutely. On “Nothing,” he states “My eyes are bleeding. They’re glued to the screen. Headlines are monsters that everyone honors. Blink if it hurts you to see what I see.”
Even the specificity of the coronavirus’s respiratory droplet method of transmission is insinuated on “Ricochet.” “I got shot down by the ricochet. I won’t let go, I suffocate. Live to die another day,” Coby says.
Finally, on “Periscope”, a duet with Skylar Grey, Mr. Dick prognosticates love in the social distancing era. “No matter what I say, it’s only going to steal your breath
and slip away,” he laments to his infected love. Skyler responds “You wear your heart so fearless. It’s like it doesn’t breathe…Don’t think that I can fight this pressure pulling me underneath.” Resigned to their newfound separation she bemoans “…maybe you should let me go. I’ll love you through a periscope.”
The question arises, did Jacoby Shaddix really see this coming? The pain, the loss, the isolation-bred psychosis, the separation from loved ones, the disillusionment with our “leaders”, etc. Or is it possible that none of these lyrics were written with a future pandemic in mind and they are nothing more than paint-by-numbers angst?
While the truth more likely lies within the latter, it is also true that for the foreseeable future everything will be viewed through a coronavirus prism. For example, that iconic album cover for Pink Floyd’s album Wish You Were Here featuring one man shaking the hand of another man on fire was always thought to represent “getting burned” in a business deal (as was/is often the case in the record business). Now it brings to mind the potential harm to one’s self by engaging in the previously innocent act of a handshake.
And on the classic Seinfeld episode “The Kiss Hello,” Jerry is ostracized by his fellow apartment dwellers for refusing to engage in a kiss greeting with people who are no more than acquaintances. Now, instead of his behavior being seen as a peculiarly heightened sense of germophobia it now seems prudent and to think otherwise would be criminal.
So it may go as it pertains to our perception of the world. The virus has commandeered our thoughts and will no doubt influence the music, film, literature and art we produce and consume going forward.
As far as that three-year old Papa Roach album is concerned, it may be comforting to think at least one of the songs correlates to our new reality. “Born For Greatness” brings to mind the hundreds of thousands of healthcare workers risking their lives everyday for complete strangers. “It doesn’t matter if the world has gone mad,” they keep plugging away in unreasonable conditions lacking the proper personal protective equipment, sometimes fashioning masks out of Halloween costumes and bandannas³ to provide the much needed care. It is they who should be singing “…let the world know, no, we’re not nameless. We’re not faceless. We were born for greatness.“
Stay safe, my friends.
¹ This is where I feel like John Candy in Home Alone. He’s Gus Polinski, the Polka King of the Midwest and he’s peppering a confused Kate McCallister (Catherine O’Hara) with the titles of his “hits.” “Polka, Polka, Polka? Twin Lakes Polka? Domavougi Polka AKA Kiss Me Polka? Polka Twist?” Ahh, here just watch him do it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo3zKsNLK0c
² Yep. https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/01/business/alcohol-sales-coronavirus-trnd/index.html
³ Have a look for yourself. https://i2.wp.com/scng-dash.digitalfirstmedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/OCR-L-VIRUS-MASKS-0325-01-js.jpg?fit=780%2C9999px&ssl=1
Art Design: Erik Belcarz. Credits: Blue World Map With Binary Code, Petr Kratochvil (freestockphotos.biz). Illustrations, Rinka Patel. Papa Roach, Rock Am Ring 2015, Fotandi Andreas Lawen (Wikimedia commons).