about
"Dead Presidents" had been kicking around in one form or another since maybe 1990, back when it was a rather fresh euphemism for money. I'm pretty sure the first time I heard it used was in Steve Martin's early film, "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid," circa 1982. By the time of its recording here in 2005, I did feel a little ashamed of using it as a song idea due to the term's overuse, especially in rap. I persisted, figuring nobody had really teased out the metaphor for fun.
And where does this lead our concept album's concept hero, the loner? Alone in the neighborhood, at social events, isolated in love, and cut off from God, whence does he turn for solace: money. And, like the presidents riding on it, it's a rather dead-end preoccupation.
I love the chunky bass sound and the way it ticks along. The melody is the same as it's always been since 1990, but I recall now that I did give it a whole new riff and blues sensibility. Probably because the old riff was too much like my early song, "Insufficient Funds." Didn't want folks to think all my money songs sounded the same.
They do, I just don't want you to think so.
lyrics
"Dead Presidents"
(vonHummer)
It's necromocracy, they rule the land, Dead Presidents,
Greasing the squeaky wheel supply and demand, Dead Presidents,
They hold umbrellas on your rainiest day,
Marshall enough of them and have it your way,
Gather ye Dead Presidents while ye may,
Oh, oh, oh, Dead Presidents...
No good at speeches, but they certainly talk, Dead Presidents,
They come and soothe you, They leave you in shock, Dead Presidents,
They take extremists and get 'em to bend,
Take men of science and make 'em pretend,
Gee, Dead Presidents, you're just the living end,
Oh, oh, oh, Dead Presidents...
For unlike us, they know no decadence,
They are occupants, we are residents,
Oh say can you pray for Dead Presidents?
Where do they come from and where do they go?
March and parade 'em or don't let em show,
Look over your shoulder and say hello
and goodbye to the dead...
Love and sex with them gets really intense, Dead Presidents,
They can adopt your life like foster parents, Dead Presidents,
Chase 'em or hate 'em or leave 'em behind,
still they're consulting in the back of your mind,
Give us this day our Dead Presidents' daily grind,
Oh, oh, oh, Dead Presidents...
credits
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