Steve Willoughby

On the opposite end of the spectrum from "Speed Racer" is "Steve Willoughby", a quick, goofy number loaded with pop culture and personal references, and slathered with "funkyish" clavinet courtesy of producer Michael Stipe.

One of the sacred rules of Creative Writing 101 is not to include references to people or brands that people will probably not understand 50 years hence. I remember a professor trotting out a Marianne Moore poem as an example, which referenced Esso, a now-defunct brand name that grew out of the initials for Standard Oil, and has now morphed into Exxon. The theory is that without exposition, the puzzlement by the reader (or listener) about who or what is being referred to takes away from the experience of the poem/song. Brands and fads and other proper nouns that are loaded with special meaning for those living in their particular time, will all eventually lose that potency over time. On "Steve Willoughby", Vic Chesnutt throws all of that (sometimes useful) hoo-hah right out the window.

"Steve Willoughby"'s construction is simple enough. The singer tosses out hopeful lines about what he's going to be in the future (rich, good-looking, idolized, important), by comparing those traits with pop culture figures, and people that he knows. Each verse closes by recognizing that at the moment, he's none of those things:

Someday I'm gonna be cool

Someday I'm gonna kick major butt

Someday I will transcend

Just like Jane's Addiction

But today I simply am in a rut, I'm in a rut.

Other references include Louis Farrakhan, Larry King, and Deborah Norville. Each one of these people has a very specific realm that they occupy publicly, and while Larry King is pretty well known across the board, the Deborah Norville line is pretty obscure, and Farrakhan hasn't been in the news lately. Even Jane's Addiction doesn't elicit the same kind of response it would have in 1992, when West of Rome was released. But maybe what's great about this song, and how it thumbs its nose at Strunk & White, is that it becomes even funnier/more poignant the less people get the references.

The song's protagonist is so worshipful of minor celebrities, and so down on himself for not possessing the same skills and perceived worth, that you want to shout by the end of the song, "Who cares! Who really wants to be like these people!" And now, as their stars fade or have faded, the question is "Who are these people", and the idea of wishing to be other people becomes more and more ridiculous.

As a side note, I'm not sure if this is the Steve Willoughby in question, but it would make sense.