The date was August 10th 2018, and Nearer My God was at a critical juncture in its process of making a first impression upon me. Opener “Grand Paradise” was shockingly off-the-wall, in a good way, but I wasn’t sure if it was an anomaly or a sign of even better things to come. Then the more plodding “Slapstick” hit my ears, and I felt like it was unfortunately going to lean towards the former. Even as the first couple minutes of “Lich Prince” passed by, I was unconvinced. “Goddammit Rowan you overhyped this thing” I thought to my real-life self, not thinking about how weird that actually is, and then BAM!
I FEEL LIKE A HOOUUSE PLAAAAANT!!! *cue FUCKING EPIC guitar solo*
The rest is history. The album continued and I fell in love with every minute of it; something I still credit to “Lich Prince”, as it hooked me right at the exact moment that I was on the brink of writing the whole thing off. It’s weird how music works like that – sometimes our opinions of an entire piece can be molded by the timing of one song. For me, “Lich Prince” was Nearer My God‘s savior, even though now I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, including the songs I once found boring or pointless.
Another thing I once found pointless were the lyrics to this song. “I feel like a house plant”? Really? But then I bothered myself to actually read the lyrics, and I connected with them on multiple levels. The entire song is about feeling bottled up and ignored. It’s an anthem for the overlooked, underpaid employee. The friend-zoned guy who would treat her better than her deadbeat, abusing asswipe of a boyfriend. The depressed soul who drifts in and out of every week, staring into the sky, cursing at God, and wondering why he was even plagued with this shitty existence. “Lich Prince” is a bomb that slowly ticks away until it explodes.
Glued up
I feel so
Insulated
I feel desperate
I could wake up
But I won’t
That at-first comical line of I feel like a house plant then makes a whole lot more sense: the Foxing frontman is saying that he feels like his existence is entirely passive. People may walk by and look at him – but ultimately he’s just sitting there, waiting to die on a windowsill. He feels as though the emotional connection that he shares with other people is not reciprocated, and that at best he’s merely being pitied and “taken care of” by those he feels boundless love towards. It’s a pretty horrible feeling, so no wonder they shred their guitars like crazy for the better part of the song’s latter half, in what can only be cited as the first true Foxing guitar solo – and boy do they nail it.
It’s such a much sadder song than I ever realized upon initial inspection, lamenting a life of being put on the backburner while yearning for something more. Again, it’s a pressure cooker. I’ve never heard a more delightful psychotic break.
