I Made This Newsletter, I'm Never Going to Hell
Self-reference is one of the most powerful devices an artist can use in a song. But it can also go horribly wrong.
I have a tendency to get obsessed with finding songs that have very, very specific qualities. Here’s an example. A few weeks ago, I was listening to Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Boxer” and noticed that the first few verses are all told in the first person (i.e., “I am just a poor boy / Though my story's seldom told”), but then the last verse shifts to the third person (i.e., “In the clearing stands a boxer”). Why does Paul Simon shift the perspective? I have no idea. But it has a powerful effect.
I was so moved by this perspective shifting that I wanted to find other songs that used it, especially ones that weren’t duets. I searched high and low, but I could sadly only find two examples.
Bob Dylan’s “Simple Twist of Fate” starts with five verses that are all in third person before shifting to first person for the final verse.
Eminem’s “Stan” does this perspective shift in a different way. The story is told in letters, the first three are from the perspective of a crazed fan writing to his hero Eminem and the last is the rapper’s reply.
While listening to “Stan”, I realized that it also uses another interesting device. Throughout the song, Eminem is referencing his other songs. This fascinated me almost more than the perspective shift. How often do artists reference lyrics in their other songs? What effect does this device have on listeners? I decided to find out.
All People Who Write Newsletters are Liars
On certain days, I’m inclined to say that Eminem’s “Stan” is the most impressive composition of the first decade of the 2000s. Built around a sample of “Thank You” by Dido, “Stan” is told in four verses, which are - as previously noted - structured as letters between Stan and Eminem.
Stan’s first letter makes it clear that he is a huge Eminem fan (i.e., “I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your biggest fan / I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam”) and has reached out to his hero before (i.e., “I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not've got 'em”).
But when Stan opens his second letter with “Dear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance / I ain't mad - I just think it's fucked up you don't answer fans,” it’s clear that his fandom is not normal. Throughout this verse, his obsession with Eminem begins to cross a line. In fact, he says that they should be lovers (i.e., “P.S. We should be together, too”). He also admits to self-harm, being abused, and suffering from depression.
By the third letter - actually a recorded rather than written missive - Stan has lost control. His anger toward Eminem is boiling (i.e., “Dear Mister I'm-Too-Good-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fans / This'll be the last package I ever send your ass”), and he ends up committing a horrendous act of violence.
When verse four begins, a calmness pervades the song. Stan no longer has the pen. His hero Eminem does. The rapper finally responds, sending his apologies for taking so long to reply (i.e., “Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner but I've just been busy”) and telling Stan that he needs some help (i.e., “You got some issues, Stan, I think you need some counseling”). It’s too late, though.
In the years since its release, “Stan” has become such a cultural touchstone that Merriam-Webster added the term stan to the dictionary, meaning “an extremely or excessively enthusiastic and devoted fan”. The song is irreproachable. It’s defined by its complex narrative structure. It’s defined by Eminem’s layered, multi-syllabic rhymes. And it’s also defined by self-reference.
In verse three, Stan taunts Eminem: “Hey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?” That question is a direct quote from Eminem’s first hit, “My Name Is”. Furthermore, Stan’s violence seems to mirror the violence in his hero’s song “97 Bonnie & Clyde”. Is Eminem to blame for Stan’s atrocities?
Part of the reason Eminem wrote this song was in response to his critics. Could children be driven to violence and misbehavior by his grotesque rhymes? Eminem made a point to lambast those levying this criticism throughout the early 2000s. “Who Knew” - the song after “Stan” on his Marshall Mather LP - spends almost four minutes telling parents it’s their job to raise their children, not his.
Though the duty artists have toward young fans falls outside the scope of this newsletter, I want to focus on the idea of self-reference, or Eminem alluding to his other works throughout “Stan”. In a composition filled with compelling devices, it might be the most compelling because it makes you feel like you are in on a secret. Not everyone is going to catch Stan’s references to Eminem’s other songs, but if you do, it’s rewarding. Other self-referential examples that I found have a similar effect.
When Taylor Swift sings, “I once believed love would be burning red / But it's golden / Like daylight” on her song “Daylight”, she is referencing her earlier song “Red” where she notes, “Loving him was red”. Swift has apparently changed. You’d only know that by being familiar with her discography.
When John Lennon sings, “Well, here's another clue for you all / The walrus was Paul” on The Beatles’ deep cut “Glass Onion”, he is simultaneously referencing their earlier composition “I Am The Walrus” while feeding into conspiracy theories about the group.
When Britney Spears sings, “My loneliness ain’t killing me” on her hit “Stronger”, she is offering a refutation to the refrain on her first smash “...Baby One More Time” (i.e., “My loneliness is killing me). The contrast invites fans to speculate on her personal life.
Not all self-reference is so deft, though. Often, artists will reference their previous works in a way that amounts to them shouting, “Hey, remember when I made that other song that you like!?” Take Kanye West and Jay-Z’s 2011 record “Otis” as an example. About halfway through the song, West raps, “I made ‘Jesus Walks’, I'm never going to hell”, a reference to his earlier song “Jesus Walks”. Drake does a similar thing on his song “Summer Sixteen”. A minute into the diss track he spits, “Them boys they a handful / Then I hit 'em with the hotline,” reminding his listeners of his recent hit, “Hotline Bling”.
Self-reference is a tool of both power and pain. In mathematics and philosophy, it can lead to troubling paradoxes. In computer science, it can generate elegant solutions to certain problems. Music offers a similar dichotomy. When artists reference their earlier work with subtlety - like on “Stan” and “Daylight” - their oeuvre becomes more engaging for listeners. When they do it with less tact, it feels like they’ve run out of ideas and are trying to sell the thrills of yesteryear.
If you’re looking for the good and bad of self-reference, check out the playlist below. It was compiled with help from friends and readers alike. To note, I decided to ignore songs that were direct sequels like Chubby Checker’s “The Twist” and “Let’s Twist Again”. All even-numbered tracks are referenced on the track before. Drop a comment if you think I’ve missed something important.
A New One
"Top Down" by Christian LaNeve
2023 - Pop Rap
I spent hours looking for a self-referential song that came out in the last month and the task proved impossible. It seems artists might avoid the device when they are on the come up because they don’t have an audience large or invested enough to catch their lyrical twists. Because of that, I opted for a song devoid of self-reference.
Christian LaNeve is a rising pop rapper in the style of The Kid Laroi. While he is clearly still trying to find his sound, a song like “Top Down” shows great potential. It is light, breezy, and catchy enough to beckon you to click play again as soon as it ends.
An Old One
"Volcano Girls" by Veruca Salt
1997 - Alternative Rock
A reader introduced me to this song while I was researching this piece. It does indeed contain self-reference. A verse near the end references Veruca Salt’s earlier song “Seether”.
I told you about the seether before
You know the one that's neither or nor
Well here's another clue if you please
The seether's Louise
But look closely, and you’ll notice something else. The structure of these lyrics closely follows the structure of the self-referential lyrics in The Beatles’ “Glass Onion” (i.e., “I told you about strawberry fields”). Just as John Lennon shouts out his bandmate (i.e., “The walrus was Paul”), Veruca Salt’s Nina Gordon does the same here, calling out her bandmate Louise Post.
Can you catch a reference to an earlier song in my discography? Check out my song “You’re Not Sorry” and see if you can find it.
Want more Chris Dalla Riva? Check out this article from Wired that I was interviewed for.
The first version of Dylan's "Tangled Up In Blue" has an amazing twist on perspective if you're familiar with the released version. The first few verses are written in the third person and then there's a switch to the first person. However, there are now three characters and not two! Check it out here (scroll down): https://glyphobet.net/strthrwr/bob/18-01.html
This is an interesting piece. Have you ever thought of metafiction?