Narrow Your Eyes: More Sad Songs in Happy Clothes
On heartbreak, medieval musicals, and the vindictive poetry of TMBG
A Play, A Peasant, and a Power Pop Breakup
In the sixth grade, I was in a school play called Saint George and the Dragon. I played a knight, or maybe a knight pretending to be a villager. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that my newly discovered best friend played a peasant, and he sang a line that went:
"I would gladly like a loaf of bread."
Years later, when we discovered Apollo 18, we both realized that his line sounded hilariously similar to the bridge melody in “Narrow Your Eyes.” Every single time I hear that part of the song, I still sing “I would gladly like a loaf of bread” in my head. Also out loud.
“Narrow Your Eyes” is track ten on Apollo 18. A sunny little power pop jam with tight harmonies and a bouncy tempo. It feels like a lost Cheap Trick/Fountains of Wayne hybrid—until you actually listen to the words.
It’s classic TMBG sleight of hand: cheerful sounds paired with heartbroken lyrics. It’s a trick they pull off constantly, and I’m always here for it.
High School Heartbreak and the Power of the Passive-Aggressive Squint
I think of this song as the musical embodiment of that uniquely teenaged fury when someone dumps you. I dated a girl for 11 months in high school. That’s like seven adult years. She dumped me for a guy who had just transferred into her grocery store. I was devastated. Also? Betrayed. We had four out of six classes together, so avoiding her took full-time strategy.
I dropped Marine Biology just to breathe easier. I rerouted my entire lunchtime routine. If I saw her coming down the hall, I’d squint and whisper her name through my gritted teeth like it was a curse.
For me, Narrow Your Eyes is that feeling put to song. Hurt, with a hint of spite.
The song opens with:
I don't want to change your mind
I don't want to think about your mind
They say love is blind
I don't think you're blind
This is not a hopeful reconciliation song. This is scorched earth with a melody. Not only does the narrator not want to change her mind about breaking up, he doesn’t even want to think about her at all. In fact, he doesn’t even love her. “That’ll teach her for hurting me.”
It's a passive-aggressive anthem in disguise. And it resonated deeply with 16-year-old me, in relaxed jeans, converse shoes, and navigating heartbreak in amongst the rest of the school newspaper staff.
Memory is a Strange, Musical Thing
What’s crazy to me is how this song ties together two completely unrelated memories—my sixth-grade play and my high school heartbreak.
One is innocent and goofy good time. The other is angsty and hormonal. And yet, thanks to melody, they’re entwined in my brain forever.
That’s what music does. It blends together our most random emotional moments. And Narrow Your Eyes, whether I’m thinking about betrayal or fresh baked bread, has never left me.
Let’s Talk:
Got a song that glues together two wildly different memories? Or one that hits totally different depending on the day? I’d love to hear about it. Drop a comment or send a reply if you are reading this in email form.
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