Best way I can describe the feeling of this idea is the overwhelming nausea of a teacup ride, like the Mad Hatter ride at Disney. That moment when you learn something really horrifying, like the instant you learn that someone dear to you has unexpectedly died. That traumatic moment when the world spins, the floor seems to drop out from under you. That’s this song – an articulation of that moment.
It’s a potent thing, this moment. Years will pass and when you think of that departed soul you’ll instantly feel this horrible moment instead, the power of this trauma, before you can think of anything else.And you wait and wait and hope that somehow, this sensation will fade. It doesn’t. It can’t. The only hope is that you’ll see them again in some sort of afterlife, but even this weighs on you. You doubt. You lose faith.
“I’m so afraid that we’re never gonna meet again…”
Your dying inside every day, but you are asked to live on. The room sways. Spins. Nausea.
You live in the teacup.
Ok, breathe again.
Let’s discuss the music. This began as a synth bass and tom groove. I will admit to the “Mission Impossible” vibe of it – not intentional. Lot of guitar layers that I am fond of here – trying my best to channel angry Johnny Greenwood circa OK Computer. I played these parts on the ugliest Squire Tele copy ever, borrowed from Vinnie Fontana . Damn thing looks like it was painted to resemble a football gridiron or somesuch. I’ll get a pic of it. Anyway, I did love playing that guitar. In fact, it appears a LOT on the record.
Played all the drums on an old octopad. I waited forever to bring in the hi-hats and that’s the moment when the song really takes off. As the song deconstructs and dissembles at the end I throw in a couple off-beat nods to Neil Peart. If you get it, you get it.
Overall, I think TEACUP is one of the more satisfying and intense tracks on the album. It by no means an upbeat song, but I hope you can dig it.