Which is worse?

Wishful thinking?

Or wishing, with hindsight, that you had been more careful what you wished for?

David Byrne wrote (Nothing But) Flowers from the latter point of view.

Yes, the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. But, on reflection, neither greener, nor grass for that matter, are all they were cracked up to be.

Be careful what you wish for. You might get it and regret it.

You got it, you got it

We hear this refrain ten times throughout the song. You got it. You got it. You got what you wanted. Now deal with the consequences.

But the regret and ruefulness come later. (Nothing But) Flowers opens with the naive optimism and the almost bewildered sense of wonder of the song’s narrator.

Here we stand
Like an Adam and an Eve
Waterfalls
The Garden of Eden
Two fools in love
So beautiful and strong
The birds in the trees
Are smiling upon them

The setting for (Nothing but) Flowers is the aftermath of a benign apocalypse. Planet Earth has been wiped clean and restored to its factory settings. Deforestation, over-population and pollution have been reversed. Agriculture has triumphed over industry.

There was a factory
Now there are mountains and rivers
You got it, you got it

Sounds idyllic.

There was a shopping mall
Now it’s all covered with flowers
You got it, you got it

Chalk one up for Mother Nature.

Once there were parking lots
Now it’s a peaceful oasis
You got it, you got it

They pulled down the parking lot and put up a paradise. (Apologies to Joni Mitchell.)

This was a Pizza Hut
Now it’s all covered with daisies
You got it, you got it

Scumbag Pizza Huts. Being covered with flowers is too good for them.

Too good is the moral genome of this song. Too much of a good thing. And too good to be true. There is more than a hint of this in the title alone. The bracketing of (Nothing But) lends a jaded weariness to what should be guileless wonder.

(Nothing But) Flowers is a study in ambivalence.

For every discount store turned into a cornfield (you got it, you got it) there is an expression of wistful regret.

I miss the honky tonks,
Dairy Queens, and 7-Elevens
You got it, you got it

Living off the land is all well and good, but there is only so much that you can do with nuts and berries. Three cheers for harmonious equilibrium and maintaining the balance of nature and all that, but, just like a wavering vegetarian craving bacon, you’d pretty soon kill for mac ‘n’ cheese with a Pop Tart chaser.

I dream of cherry pies,
Candy bars, and chocolate chip cookies
You got it, you got it

The stanzas alternate between the pros and the cons of the Good Life. Glass half full. Glass half empty. Half full again.

The effect is disconcerting. The lack of a fixed ideological horizon gives rise to a kind of lyrical sea-sickness. And the sense of dizziness is exacerbated by the juxtaposition between the doleful words and the incongruously jaunty, calypso instrumentation.

Johnny Marr plays guitar on (Nothing But) Flowers, and the result is like an interference pattern between the steel drum chorus of Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police and the pizzicato guitar break of Right By Your Side by Eurythmics.

Byrne sings dark lyrics, “And as things fell apart nobody paid much attention,” over a sunny, hip-swaying tune with a hula vibe.

The melody is as ambivalent as the lyrics. It is very clever.

As hinted at above it is hard, nay impossible, not to draw comparisons with Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell. (Nothing but) Flowers is the photographic negative version of her song. Mitchell decries the destruction of natural beauty. Byrne laments the passing of junk food.

They took all the trees
And put them in a tree museum
Then they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see ‘em
Don’t it always seem to go,
That you don’t know what you’ve got
‘Til it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Mitchell is unequivocal; development is the opposite of progress. She yearns for the regression that Byrne’s reluctant protagonist encounters in (Nothing But) Flowers.

The tableaux in (Nothing But) Flowers call to mind the famous image from the 1968 film Planet Of The Apes of a fallen Statue Of Liberty on the beach. For the stranded astronauts, what should have been a symbol of hope is actually a symbol of despair. They have traveled at light speed, with their aging process slowed accordingly, only to arrive back on planet Earth two millenia in the future. Relativity can be a real bitch.

Relativity is about the effects of seeing events from different viewpoints.

What is desirable to Joni Mitchell in Big Yellow Taxi is abhorrent (on reflection) to the persona adopted by David Byrne in (Nothing But) Flowers.

(Nothing But) Flowers is a subtle and sophisticated song. Climate and environment are big deals, big ideals. But what happens when what is sustainable for the planet is not satisfactory for the human condition? It is a complex and uncomfortable notion.

Accompanied by Thomas Dolby and a string quartet, Byrne performed (Nothing But) Flowers) at a TED conference in 2010. He is a man with ideas and lyrics worth spreading.

In the final analysis the ambivalence that characterises the song at the outset crystallises into a firm opinion. Byrne wants out.

Don’t leave me stranded here
I can’t get used to this lifestyle

I can’t get used to this calypso apocalypse.

Don’t leave me stranded here in this floral future.

This dystopian Utopia.

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