Analysing Flipturn's 'Vanilla'

ANALYSIS TIMEEEE. Here's the link to the song on youtube in case you want to give it a listen!- Vanilla 

I chose this song to be the first song I analyse here because it was the song that really got me into listening to Flipturn, who are probably my favourite band of all time. It's from their Heavy Colors album and, though the song itself isn't one of their best, it will always be dear to my heart. Plus they mention colour blindness in it so i relate, yk? 

Overall, Vanilla explores themes of conformity, drug abuse, as well as writers block, in a modern, media saturated world. It uses California as both a literal and symbolic backdrop to this, which is especially interesting as the next song in the EP is called Chicago, two cities which I'll compare later.

Okok so the song opens with the verse,

I take my time
To walk a straight and narrow line
My mind's a haze
And I am stuck in just one place

In the first verse, "i take my time, to walk the straight and narrow line", the 'straight and narrow line' is a symbol of conventionality, a safe, expected way of creating music in which the singer adheres to various structures, formulas and rules within the creative industry. It's a lack of artistry in what is supposed to be a profession mirroring your very soul, and it's stagnant. There's no joy to it, and no flow. The line 'straight and narrow' itself is used so often in literature, music etc, that even the lyric is unimaginative. 
This may reflect a mental state in which they feel they're barely following their own path, a line rather than a winding road. They're trying to do the 'right thing' -in music, in life- but it has no substance. There are no curves or kinks in the line, merely the straight and narrow, and it's getting them nowhere. 

This is interesting to me as in songs following this, particularly Sunlight from their Burnout Days album, we see Flipturn write about his sister's drug addiction, with Sunlight opening with her being taken to rehab by his mother. The 'straight and narrow' takes on a new context here, and may connote an attempt to stay away from substances for fear of addiction. Substance abuse tends to run in families, as addiction can be hereditary, and drugs are incredibly common in the music industry, so this straight line may also be a way of the speaker keeping themself safe, sticking to convention to avoid falling off the deep end. 

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No, I can barely move
No, I can't get away
Well, my vanilla shoes
They won't let me escape
Whoa, whoa-oh, ooh-whoa-oh-oh

The second verse suggests a sort of creative paralysis. The inability to move suggests mental stagnation, that being writer's block. The straight and narrow line may be a path but it is not one they find joy in, and so their creativity is stunted. A singer can't write if they has nothing to write about, and the fact is that there's nothing going on on that straight line. Even so, that fear of losing control and stepping out of convention's shadow, both musically and otherwise, holds the singer down. 

The line 'vanilla shoes' once again represents conformity, that simple mediocrity that leads to that bland, uninspiring path. The singer isn't stepping into something new, something bold and creative, as the shoes are keeping them firmly in place. They're safe and tethered to comfortable normality, even if that familiarity keeps them from pursuing their dreams and branching out. This suggests the singer feels stuck in their own habits and conventions, both creatively and emotionally. They want to break free of the mundane, to kick off those shoes, but cannot become comfortable with the risk that involves. I mean, who really is comfortable with the unknown?

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Well, out in California
They sell color TV
No, but they don't warn ya
They're what you really see
Well, it's far from normal
'Cause normal is just black and white
It's something that they hide away
But California, I'm okay

The chorus, begins with the mention of California, a symbol of dreams, fame, and even escape. It represents the illusion of creativity. "Colour TV" is a metaphor for an artificial world, speaking to false and superficial fulfilment- a high-definition, carefully curated version of life that isn't rooted in true emotion or reality. It's a distraction, one sold to you by the world around you to keep you from branching out from what you see in that metal box of colour, which creativity can be found anywhere but.
The singer can't find true inspiration from other people's creations shown to them on the TV. Rather they seek something more authentic, even as they feel they are drowning in the noise and the colour of the city.

Meanwhile, the lines “No, but they don't warn ya. They're what you really see” critique how society, or rather media and addiction culture, misinterpret reality- offering colourful distractions that are truly hollow. It is a commentary on how creatives are fed images of what art 'should' be, what success looks like, or what inspiration feels like. These representations, polished and varnished and ready to be sold in stores with stainless steel shelves, end up being deceptive, leaving the singer feeling even more disconnected from what they really want to create. 

This; however, is shattered in the next few lines, "It's far from normal, 'cause normal is black and white". The singer is rejecting the bright lights and polished floors of the city, rejecting what's considered 'normal', that simple, safe and structured existence. Even so, they have gone from one extreme to another. They want something complex, more vivid, but it's elusive. 
This could further represent the self-issued creative boundaries that writer's block imposes. The singer is stuck between wanting to break free of convention and yet not being able to articulate anything beyond the normal, that being either black and white, or coloured TV.

Finally, the last two lines "But California, I'm okay", carry an almost sarcastic sort of resignation, as if the singer is hiding frustration behind a façade of contentment. After all, they're an artist in the city. They're living the dream. They're not okay, but they tell themselves and others that they are, much as they pretend to accept the status quo, even as the creative fire that drove them initially has dimmed. Still, they find that the city's distractions aren't the answer. He's in this weird limbo state between conformity and breaking free, pretending they've escaped when they haven't. I like to call it his 'vanilla socks era', easier to slip off but just as restrictive. 

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So I told my mind
To be a little less colorblind
'Cause my brain's been bleached
By a digital society

In verse four, the singer is giving themselves a wake up call of sorts, telling their mind to be "a little less colourblind" and so to recognise the spectrum of creative possibilities surrounding him. The word 'colourblind' implies they've been missing nuance in their thinking, which is obvious on so many levels. First, in their self imposed restriction of their own artistry, and then later on when they flip from vivid, commercialised colour to black and white- two extremes on the spectrum of colour that is existence. They're now telling themselves to be more aware of the wonder of the world around them, that richness that comes with being alive, and their own creative potential. It's a realisation that writer's block isn't a technical issue, it's a mindset. One that the singer can change once they stop seeing things in black and white, success and failure, convention. There is so much more nuance in something so simple as being. 

The lines "'Cause my brain's been bleached. By a digital society" once again indicates a realisation that the singer's creativity has been washed out, perhaps by the overwhelming nature of social media, the bright lights of the TV screen, and the overwhelming state of modern culture. The singer's mind is disconnected from his creativity and instead shaped by the noise of everything that he has been fed by the world. It's a powerful metaphor for helplessness, a feeling of being a shell of yourself, your creativity scrubbed clean of anything raw and real. The only issue is that bleach is permanent. It doesn't come out and it can't be reversed.

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No, I can barely think
It's so subliminal
But I thought my brain was pink
How unoriginal
Whoa, whoa-oh, ooh-whoa-oh-oh

Finally, in verse five writers block manifests in mental exhaustion, where the singer feels overwhelmed and his thoughts are scattered. It's a final comment on the truth of the world around, the subliminal nature of the distraction that is the modern world. 

The line 'I thought my brain was pink. How unoriginal' has a rather devastating meaning to me.
The colour pink symbolises creativity, hope and freshness. To have thought their brain was pink, is to have seen it as being full of fresh, original ideas at first, though now they realise how unoriginal such an thought was. Their frustration is palpable. It's not just about being unable to write, its the pure, visceral terror they feel at the realisation of having lost their spark. That, ultimately, they're vanilla, just like everyone else.

They stay trapped in conformity's grip, never break free of that straight and narrow line, never take off those shoes, and are- at the end of the day- purely imitative of the sparkling neon lights of the world around them. As much for show as the colours on the TV and as commercialised as those stainless steel shelves.