Istanbul (Not Constantinople): How one song led me to They Might Be Giants
How a Tiny Toons episode turned me into a lifelong fan of They Might Be Giants
I'm sharing my life and love for They Might Be Giants one song at a time. Subscribe for free weekly updates to Kiss Me, Son of Blog.
I can’t hear this song without thinking of this one episode of Tiny Toons Adventures in 1991.
Istanbul (Not Constantinople) was the song that introduced me to They Might Be Giants back in ‘91. Sitting on the brownish carpet of my bedroom in a single-wide trailer on a five-acre plot of mostly forested land in the Pacific Northwest, I was home from school. A cartoon that had recently become one of my favorites was about to air: Tiny Toon Adventures.
This particular episode broke from the usual format. It was an homage to watching MTV, filled with animated music videos of popular songs. Two of these songs were new to me, and the first was this TMBG track. The song grabbed my attention and awakened a thirst that only more listens could quench.
Discovering They Might Be Giants
That song was Istanbul (Not Constantinople), the fourth track on the album Flood. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to it. It feels like I’ve put in my 10,000 hours, but some math proves that I would have had to listen about 19 times per day, every day since 1991 to reach 10,000 hours.
While that might be an exaggeration, I’ve listened to live versions, remixes, and played the song on my own instrument over the last 33 years. If we count the time spent listening and thinking about this song, the 10,000 hours are there.
This song holds many prominent happy and not-so-happy memories for me. The Flood cassette was always with me, ready to share this song with someone new. Surely, anyone would instantly fall in love with this band through this song the way I did. If you haven’t heard this song, take 2 minutes and 38 seconds to become familiar.
Memories on the Road
I can’t hear this song without thinking of being in a minivan with friends on the way to a Choir Competition in junior high.
In junior high, our choir participated in the annual Jazz Fest in Gresham, OR. This meant a school trip. My dad volunteered to chauffeur (because hey, free jazz) and a group of my choir friends rode along in our minivan. The company included Lydia, Chad, Alicia, and Erin, a friend I wrote about in “She’s An Angel” who I crushed on for a good long while.
That trip was a blast and is seared into my mind as a key coming-of-age weekend. Other than a rousing game of chicken in a swimming pool, there were no scandalous escapades, but it felt like one of the first times I felt more independent and less like a kid. Once on the freeway, I popped in that Flood cassette, and we listened to Istanbul. We definitely played this song and the entire album multiple times on that trip.
A Song as Comfort
I can’t hear this song without thinking of sitting, blocking my bedroom door while my Grandma and Mom fought and I cried.
As I grew into my teenage years, my relationship with my mom became more complicated. I realize now that it was always complicated, but as a younger child, I lacked the awareness to express my own opinions. My mom and her mom also had a complicated relationship. I couldn’t grasp as a kid what kind of role I played as a pawn between them.
My grandma was one of my best friends. We had countless sleepovers filled with movies, Golden Girls or Murder She Wrote, and amazing veggie dinners. But there was a time when I got frustrated with her, likely because she asked me to help organize her stuff in storage, which was extremely uninteresting to me as a kid.
I vented to my mom, who later called my grandma and essentially snitched on everything I shared. My mom was excited to have something over my grandma’s head for once and proceeded to milk it. My grandma drove over to talk to me, and I felt so anxious and ashamed. I hid in my room, sitting against the door while my grandma knocked and tried to open it. I put on my headphones and listened to Istanbul, drowning out the shouts and crying.
Theater Kid Memories
I can’t hear this song without thinking about being in “Don’t Drink the Water” and my years as a Theater Kid.
I was a Theater Kid since the 4th grade. In high school, I played Father Drobney in “Don’t Drink the Water.” The director requested some pre-curtain music from somewhere near Turkey. Boom. I suggested Istanbul by They Might Be Giants. It became our pre/post-show music.
This song is a staple in the lore of Chase. I’ve shared it with friends, my kids, my wife, and seen it performed live in every available format. It’s no longer just a song for me; the notes transport me to complicated emotional moments. Each listen recollects all the experiences since that first listen in 1991.
Reflections on Serendipity
In preparation for this post, I read up on comments by John Flansburgh and John Linnell about their decision to cover this Four Lads song. Linnell remembers seeing the group on TV, standing out from the usual adult contemporary music. Flansburgh was familiar with the song from his childhood, and they decided to put their own spin on it.
Had Linnell not come across this song on TV, they might not have recorded it. Similarly, I randomly came across it in my room and was pulled in, intrigued, wanting to hear more. That’s what I call serendipity.
Istanbul (Not Constantinople) is not just a song; it’s a best friend. What about you? When was the first time you heard this song or this band? Did it hit you as hard as it hit me? I’d love to hear your stories, too! Leave a comment, shoot me an email, or slide into my DMs. Let’s swap TMBG memories.
Bonus Stuff
For those who can’t get enough of "Istanbul," I've shared a few favorite versions of this classic below. Enjoy!
This Brownsville Remix was the first remix I’d heard of this song and while my fondness of it is purely nostalgic now, I absolutely loved this on first listen.
Electronic Istanbul was part of their Idlewild compilation. An electronic devices only recording with an amazing music video directed by Flansy himself.
I saw this set ending rendition on a live streamed concert at First Avenue stage in 2022. After 30 years of hearing all manners of arrangements and remixes, I was blown away by how much fun this was and how much I still love this song. For Conan O’Brien fans, you may recognize Mark “The Loveman” Pender on the trumpet. This one is truly special.