DJ Allyn – The Soundtrack for my Life

As a teenager, Don McLean purchased his first guitar (a Harmony F Hole with a sunburst finish) from the House of Music in New Rochelle, New York and took opera lessons paid for by his sister. These lessons combined with many hours swimming, helped Don develop breath control, which later allowed him to easily sing long, continuous phrases, in songs such as “Crying”. The exercise also meant his childhood asthma improved.

In 1961 Don’s father died. Don had also been profoundly affected by the deaths of both Buddy Holly and John F. Kennedy. These events would influence him in later life.

Don McLean’s most famous composition, “American Pie”, is often interpreted as describing the deaths of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper in an airplane crash on February 3, 1959, spawning the phrase, “The Day the Music Died.” McLean has stated that the lyrics are also somewhat autobiographical and present an abstract story of his life from the mid-1950s until the time he wrote the song in the late 1960s. The hometown legend is that “the levee” is his hometown bar, the Beechmont Tavern near Iona College. “American Pie” symbolizes the ongoing radical and tumultuous changes in popular music during this period, evolving from the often raw, upbeat sounds that marked the earliest days of rockabilly and the rock eras of the 1950s to the darker, more introspective, often cynical and increasingly socially conscious music of the late 1960s, driven by the sweeping social upheavals and volatile political atmosphere that had engulfed and defined America by the end of the decade.

Don McLean’s “American Pie” has remained the subject of intense scrutiny and philosophical interpretation for more than 30 years as music historians, scholars, professors of modern American literature, and his fans alike continue to search for its ‘deeper meaning.’ In interviews, Don claims to be amused that many interpretations start with the premise that he never talks about the song nor has ever provided insight into the meaning of the lyrics.

American Pie

A long, long time ago…
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they�d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I�d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn�t take one more step.

I can�t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
Singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock �n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you�re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin� in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin� buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin�,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
And singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

Now for ten years we�ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin� stone,
But that�s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
And singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
And singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil�s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan�s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
And singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I�d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn�t play.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
Singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.
“this�ll be the day that I die.”

They were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin� whiskey and rye
Singin�, “this�ll be the day that I die.”

Vincent (Starry Starry Night)

The song clearly demonstrates a deep-seated admiration for not only the work of van Gogh, but also for the man himself. The song includes references to his landscape works, in lines such as “sketch the trees and the daffodils” and “morning fields of amber grain” – which describe the amber wheat that features in several paintings. There are also several lines that may allude to van Gogh’s self portraits: perhaps in “weathered faces lined in pain / are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand”, McLean is suggesting that van Gogh may have found some sort of consolation in creating portraits of himself. There is, too, a single line describing van Gogh’s most famous set of works, Sunflowers. “Flaming flowers that brightly blaze” draws not only on the luminous orange and yellow colours of the painting, but also creates powerful images of the sun itself, flaming and blazing, being contained within the flowers and the painting.

As far as the song goes as a tribute to van Gogh as the man himself, the song reflects on the lack of recognition that van Gogh received. In each chorus, McLean says “They would not listen / they did not know how / perhaps they’ll listen now,” except in the final verse, McLean says “They would not listen / They’re not listening still / Perhaps they never will”. This is the story of van Gogh: unrecognised as an artist until after his death. The lyrics suggest that van Gogh was trying to “set [people] free” with the message in his work. McLean feels that this message was made clear to him: “And now I understand what you tried to say to me”, he sings. Perhaps it is this eventual understanding that inspired McLean to write the song.

It is also thought that the song intends to portray van Gogh’s tough relationship with his family. They were a wealthy family who did not accept him for his schizophrenia (”for they could not love you”) and never understood his will to help the poor. It is thought that van Gogh felt that in killing himself he would make the point to his parents. This is seen in the line “Perhaps they’ll listen now”. Many believe that the song is a touching tribute to van Gogh in respect of the hardship he faced with regards to his mental illness and his admirable good natured ways.

There are also references to van Gogh’s sanity and his suicide. Throughout his life, van Gogh was plagued with mental disorders, particularly depression. He “suffered for his sanity” and eventually “took his life, as lovers often do”. The word “lover” puts into context how McLean saw the relationship of van Gogh with his art – a relationship of love. This love was strong enough for van Gogh to persevere with his art even without acceptance from his contemporaries: “For they could not love you, but still your love was true”.

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer’s day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget.
Like the strangers that you’ve met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they’re not listening still.
Perhaps they never will…

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