Number Three: They Might Be Giants’ Meta-Masterpiece
Breaking down TMBG’s "Number Three": from sax samples to denim pants, here’s why this quirky track hold a place in my heart.
Who let the country in here, brother?
There’s something delightfully offbeat about the way "Number Three" blends twangy, country-folk acoustic guitar with what can only be described as a polka-esque honking from a low, deep horn. This kind of genre-mashing is peak They Might Be Giants: a song that sounds like it’s coming from a whimsical, alternate dimension where polka and country music are best friends.
And yet, "Number Three" is also a song about...being a song. Specifically, the third song on the album. And not just any third song—a song written by a guy who thought he only had two songs in him. It's a meta-commentary on the creative process that hit teenage me right in the brain. How did he manage to pull off this third song about writing a third song? The self-referential humor was too smart for its own good—and I loved every second of it.
This wasn’t nearly the first (or third) TMBG song I heard, but it was definitely the one that sealed my fate as a fan for life. It’s not just a joke song. There’s something oddly sincere about it—an existential struggle to create...and then realizing you’ve just managed to create something great out of that very struggle.
The Harmony of the Johns: The First Taste
Before we get too distracted by the humor of it all, let’s talk about the Johns. Up until this point on the album, John Flansburgh and John Linnell had been featured separately—Flans on track 1 and Linnell on track 2. But in "Number Three," we get our first taste of something special: the harmony of the Johns.
My oldest son once brought up an interesting conversation over dinner. We were talking about bands with iconic vocalists, and he asked me who I thought had an unmistakable vocal blend. His first example was John and Paul of The Beatles, then Serj and Daron of System of a Down. But for me? It’s John and John of TMBG. No question. "Number Three" gives us that initial glimpse of their harmonizing: Flansburgh’s falsetto mixing with Linnell’s nasally tone in a way that’s sarcastic, yet perfectly in tune.
It’s that sound that made me love them, even when my junior high choir teacher said TMBG’s vocal style was exactly what not to emulate. What a full-blown donk.
Saxophones, Skipping Records, and Denim Pants
What’s up with that deep horn sound? Turns out it’s a baritone sax sample from a 1950s song called "Skinny Lena" by Lou Monte. According to Linnell, he found the record while helping clean out an apartment and figured out how to make it skip in 4/4 time while playing the 45 RPM at 33 RPM. That repetitive honk became the foundation of the track. I’d say it adds a quirky, almost surreal edge to the country twang.
And, let’s not forget one of the best lines of the song:
"So I bought myself some denim pants and a silver guitar
But I politely told the ladies, 'You'll still have to call me Sir.'"
Honestly, that’s the energy I want to carry through life.
Meta-Humor at Its Best
It’s impossible to talk about "Number Three" without acknowledging the genius of its self-referential humor. The song is literally about the fact that it’s the third song on the album. TMBG were no strangers to meta-commentary, and this track nails it perfectly. There’s something both hilarious and impressive about writing a song about writing the third song when you only thought you had two in you. It’s like watching a writer’s block panic attack get turned into an art form.
Fan theories on this one? I haven’t seen too many interpretations, and honestly, it’s refreshing. Not every TMBG song needs a deep dive. The song’s meta-narration and tongue-in-cheek humor stand on their own. If you do have any theories, feel free to drop them in the comments. But I’m sticking with my theory that this is the greatest song ever written about being a specific numbered track on an album.
Congrats, gang!
Want more TMBG goodness? Hit subscribe and join the coolest corner of the internet!
