#48: "X French Tee-Shirt" - Shudder to Think

What is this? What it's about? Why's it mostly just one chord? Who cares! It rocks

For once, I am choosing not to ramble on as much this time with a preamble or even a personal memory of something specific. The music has to speak for itself. You have to listen to this linked below if you’re reading this. It only takes a few minutes of your time. Most recollections of songs ultimately become, for me at least, an excuse to be indulgent about something that happened as a result of an artist’s creation. It inevitably becomes about me because I feel connected to the world as a result of film and music. There’s just something profound about listening to or watching something and having it change me or affect me deeply to where I get goosebumps. Or to where I cry, scream or actually feel real emotions that can’t be contained. 

There I said there wasn’t going to be a preamble and I did it anyway. Of course, this is never going be succinct because I always want to write about the things I love and justify why the piece exists at all. An editor would chop all of this out, I know. I guess I chose to preface this one because unlike a lot of tracks on my list, this one doesn’t make me cry or think of a moment involving heartbreak or joy. It’s an odd timeline I’ve had with this band, particularly with the lead songwriter. A man by the name of Craig Wedren.

I discovered a lot of alternative music as a result of MTV. The buzz bin, the world premieres, the deep cuts, I was an MTV junkie from the moment I got home from school. It was either that or Q101. When I was a teenager, as most of you all know, I picked up a guitar and learned chords. I even managed to start a band. Most things I loved were things I related to, but every once in a while, there was a song that made me stand up and go “what was that?” 

By mainstream standards, Shudder to Think’s Pony Express Record is weird—really weird. Though it’s far from the strangest album to be released on a major label in the ’90s. The era, in retrospect, became notorious for a post-Nirvana spree that ended up in some of the most peculiar bands being given major-label money, among them Boredoms, Mr. Bungle and various projects involving noise-jazz saxophonist John Zorn. The audacity of Pony Express Record is that the band was aiming for something greater than cult appreciation. They wanted to conquer the world. - Jeff Terich

Shockingly, upon finding old episodes of 120 Minutes archived through Archive.org, that is happening even to this day. “What is this Pere Ubu band?!” There was so much weird music coming out that I never knew about. I distinctly remember watching the video premiere for the song “X French Tee-Shirt” by Shudder to Think and going, “what on Earth was that?” I know it must’ve happened time and time again like when I heard Frank Black singing “Los Angeles” and being very confused by where it was going.

Shudder to Think were an alternative rock band in the late eighties and nineties who cut their teeth on a well-respected minor label (Dischord), went through a couple lineup changes, ended up on a major label (Epic), released an album or two on that label, and then relapsed into obscurity, only known to some music nerds who probably know and love something like the soundtrack to First Love, Last Rites.

Sometimes music sounds like it’s from outer space or just actively trying to defy expectations. Being a musician, I have an acute sense of intuition when I listen to a song. Especially with someone raised on pop rock / verse chorus verse song structure. When it’s defied or approached in an unconventional manner, my ears perk up with excitement. I’ve watched too many movies and listened to too much music. The burst of dopamine is gone unless something genuinely surprises me - hopefully in a good way. 

“X French Tee-Shirt” is a song I couldn’t make heads or tails of after having just become a musician and developing a sense of what a song should be. The introduction, the hook, the verse, the chorus, the bridge, even the chord structures often follow a pattern. Shudder to Think came along and said, “fuck all that,” let’s literally build our melody on top of one chord for nearly an entirely song. That chord being Bb major, strummed throughout in different variations. 

It starts with a burst of distorted power strums after Craig simply sings “Say what?” That sets up the whole experience and even my reaction to the song after it fades out. I have no clue what the lyrics mean, I have no idea why this song exists, but I love every single audacious choice. A couple years would go by before I would hear Jeff Buckley do something similar. It makes complete sense that Craig and Jeff became friends, not only of each other’s music, but each other’s talent and genuine spirit.

I recently ran into Craig Wedren at The State reunion show at the Riviera here in Chicago. I was a little distracted during the show for a couple of reasons but let’s face it, when you realize that one of your musical heroes is sitting in the row right in front of you, sometimes your brain is shaken. I did my best to focus on the hilarity taking place on stage. Not to mention the joy I experienced only a couple months prior watching Craig perform with David Wain and friends. Plus, you have to start thinking about what you’re going to say once the show ends and he walks down the aisle near you while exiting. 

Of course, the typical thing came out of my mouth of, “you’re one of my favorite musicians ever, I just need to say thank you for all that you’ve done.” It’s always surreal flashing back to the first moment in time and actually remembering vividly of how you felt when you first heard a musician like Craig come up with a song like “X French Tee-Shirt.” Then you cut to the present and go, “I still can’t believe that I’ve been blessed to have moments like this where I can look at my heroes in the eyes and say that they may have saved or changed my life.”

Shudder were at their most sure-footedly perverse, weird, and gorgeous. They’d written their own language of pop, which is a spectacularly rare feat and super hard to wrap your head around. On the one hand, it was feral: like the parallel evolution of a bunch of Queen fans who hadn’t had contact with society in decades. On the other hand, it was a totally obvious progression for the world, a place we were all supposed to follow. Because it was 1994 and “underground” music had been mainstream for a few years and the model of culture was that revolution came from the bottom. Cobain had just passed, and everyone was waiting for the next Nevermind. All we knew for sure was that it wouldn’t sound like anything we’d heard before, but yet it would be obvious — it would be accessible in some new weird way, and we’d all know it when we heard it. And that’s what this language was: the soaring hooks and cathartic bursts of anthem were universal — the gut-level stuff of great pop songs — but they were hewn from an insane scramble of discord and chaos that had no identifiable roots or basis for comparison. Something so obvious, but totally unlike anything we’d ever heard before - Damian Kulash

I wouldn’t go so far to call Shudder to Think one of my all-time favorite bands the way I would with so many others. They often get a little too weird, cerebral and challenging at times. After all, I still want hooks, catchiness and general pop rock magic with my favorite songs. But “X French Tee-Shirt” has one of those choruses (if you can call it that) that is forever cemented in me. It’s my favorite song of theirs and they have at least a dozen gems that are right up there. What sticks the most is more of a refrain than an actual chorus, repeated over and over again from the midway point until the end:

“Hold back the road that goes / So that the others may do / That you let me in just to / Pour me down… their mouths.”

Earlier in the song, our singer reflects on how giving up and chewing on foil are similar, and then talks about packing bags and holding back the road for others to pass. So maybe it really is just a breakup song. There’s even the word “x” in the title along with the idea of once owning someone's t-shirt and probably needing to give it back now the two of them have parted.

There’s not even a Genius.com entry for this one. I know, I know, I’m supposed to come up with theories on what songs mean here. It’s one of the purposes of being a pop culture nerd and essay writer. But I have a feeling I will come back to this entry one day after I’ve talked to Craig about it. At least, I want to talk to him about his accomplishments. There are so many, it’s hard to know where to begin. Most of all, his work as a soundtrack composer and the fact that he’s friends with the aforementioned David Wain, my comedy hero. It’s all strangely connected. 

Listen, I’m very tempted to open up Chat GPT (which I don’t recommend doing in any way) and ask, “what is this song about?” Robots wouldn’t know. Aliens wouldn’t know. I know AI wouldn’t come up with an answer that makes sense. Maybe it would be gobbledygook and maybe some lyrics don’t make sense for a reason. It doesn’t matter anyway. I heard this song and went, “say what? You can make a song using only one chord and sing on top of that?” Granted, there are technically two chords but one of them doesn’t make sense, it’s pure chaotic, dissonant noise. This band often walked the fine line between dissonance and transcendent beauty. Craig’s falsetto shimmers and it’s hard to pinpoint influences outside of someone like Freddie Mercury.

I’m sure there are other songs that have existed that built its central melody around only one chord. “Pepper” by the Butthole Surfers comes to mind, that chord being G major. There’s also a recent Yo La Tengo track too that I think strums only D major for nearly the entire time. But Shudder to Think put out a truly courageous single at a time when my brain couldn’t comprehend it. Part of me was scared by this kind of weirdness. It felt dangerous, new, beautiful. Little did I know I was falling in love with the possibilities of rock and roll.

And now many years later, Craig Wedren has become an all-time favorite (yes, I have many). It all started with two words, “say what” followed by Bb major sonic booms that have taken up space in my head permanently. But let’s face it, the refrain, the melody, the fade out… perfection. It still sounds like it’s from another time, another dimension. Let’s be grateful for musicians who take true blue chances and how glorious it is when the risks pay off so amazingly like it does here.