Nobody Home

(Roger Waters)
I've got a little black book with my poems in.
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in.
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in.
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on.
Got those swollen hand blues.
I've got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from.
I've got electric light.
And I've got second sight.
I've got amazing powers of observation.
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There will be nobody home.
I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm.
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt.
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers.
I've got a silver spoon on a chain.
I've got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains.
I've got wild staring eyes.
And I've got a strong urge to fly.
But I've got nowhere to fly to.
Ooooh, Babe when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home.
I've got a pair of Gohills boots
And I've got fading roots.

"[P]art of him [wants help], but part of him that's you know, making all his arms and legs, that's making everything work doesn't want anything except just to sit there and watch the TV" (Roger Waters, 1979 Interview). Such is the state in which we find Pink in "Nobody Home," locked away in his hotel room with the realization that he needs help but uncertain as to whether he truly wants it or how to even get it. In a fragile, near-catatonic mental and physical state, Pink begins to list those things that he has, those things of which he is certain of possessing after his awareness of his wife's adultery and the subsequent completion of his wall. In a way, "Nobody Home" is to the drugged up, worn out celebrity as "Young Lust" is to the naďve and sexually driven rock star first making it in the business. In a way both songs are companion pieces depicting opposite ends of the manic depressive-like career of any superstar with the manic euphoria of "Young Lust," the embarkation into a world of carnal pleasures, preceding the depressive quagmire of "Nobody Home," the awareness that such luxuries as well as a life based on them are hollow and meaningless. In this light, "Nobody Home" and "What Shall We Do Now?" are also related in their cynical ideology concerning the baseness of superficial possessions. The only difference between the two songs is time. The Pink of "What Shall We Do Now?" is oblivious to the narrator's warnings of emptiness produced by basing one's life around trivial belongings. By "Nobody Home," he has learned the true price of such a lifestyle. The possessions, the false relationships, all of the certainties on which he has based his life have fallen away leaving him alone, barren, and without a moral compass.

In my opinion, the lyrics and music of "Nobody Home" are remarkable for the most part in that they express so much through so little. The snippets of imagery convey a range of ideas, emotions, and states of mind similar to the way lyrics such as "my favorite ax" from "One Of My Turns" can relate a specific feeling through a simple, albeit fantastical, phrase. "Nobody Home" is full of such "simple" lines making up a sort of inventory in Pink's mind. It is a catalogue of certainties (at least certainties in Pink's mind) ranging from actual objects, both nihilistic and optimistic ideas, or even the oddly humorous reflections of an apprehensive brain.

Although the song is relatively complacent with Waters' voice, composed for the most part, drifting over the introspective piano chords, there is still a sense of disunity below the surface, a hint of discord in a seemingly languid song. Such disharmonious feelings could very well originate in the song's lyrical drive that lists the things that Pink has against the one thing that is missing, the one thing that isn't "home," be it his wife or love in general. One might further suggest that this contradiction of "things that are" versus "the thing that isn't" is interspersed throughout the lyrics as well, not solely dwelling within the conflict between Pink's remaining possessions and the love that he realizes he's lost or possibly never even had. By such a reading, it's interesting to note that Pink begins his catalogue with his "little black book" full of poems recalling the book of poems which the young Pink was chastised for having in the movie sequence for "Another Brick In The Wall, Part 2." Yet directly following this somewhat holy image, a creative icon for the artist, is the listing of Pink's bag containing mundane items such as "a toothbrush and a comb." Accordingly, the rest of the song develops into an exchange between the visionary and the typical, further adding to internal strife in the song as a whole. The high-minded, artistic items, the mediums through which the poetic gems are pulled from the creative ether (the book of poems, the grand piano, second sight, etc.) seem to contest with the more lowbrow, ordinary items of the everyday (13 channels on the T.V., shoes held together by elastic bands, personal addiction, etc.). Continuing with this theme, Pink's list is fractured even more between his personal aspirations and the heaviness of reality as evidenced in such lines as, "I have strong urge to fly, but I have no where to fly to." Pink's artistic / personal spirit yearns for a freedom he cannot obtain because, firstly, he is bound by the weight of his own wall and secondly, because he has no true home or loved one to fly to. He has spent his adult life amounting unknown measures of fame and wealth while neglecting the only things (family, love, personal connections) that could keep him grounded in the real world. As a result, his only home is whatever hotel room he occupies for the night with the products of his life's undertakings summed up in a small, insignificant list.

The mentioning of Pink's "swollen hand blues" as well as other drug references add to the song's hidden disorder while also paralleling a sense of confusion that seems to have plagued Pink's whole life. By one interpretation, the mentioning of Pink's "swollen hands" is a definite allusion to his drug addictions. Many people have written e-mails saying that many junkies, especially heroin addicts, actually develop swollen hands as a result of prolonged use of the drug. Others claim that they have experienced similar feelings while high on one drug or another, be it a feeling of swollen hands, feet, head, or some comparable feeling of a disproportionate reality. (And in recounting this I am NOT condoning any kind of drug use. I am merely repeating things written to me over the years in response to this one line.) Coupled with the song's other drug references ("nicotine stains" [a sign of cigarette addiction] and the "silver spoon on a chain" [used to freebase cocaine]), the mentioning of his "swollen hands" further defines Pink's personal addictions and their contribution to his present chaotic state.

Yet the "swollen hands" act as more than just a passing reference to Pink's drugged up state of mind. Although we haven't reached the analysis for "Comfortably Numb," one of the lines in the song is important for a full interpretation of the "hands" symbol in this song. In the later tune, Pink recalls in a flashback that as a child suffering from some unknown illness, his "hands felt just like two balloons." And so not only do the "swollen hands" act as both a flashback (to Pink's childhood) as well as foreshadowing (to the revelation of this illness in "Comfortably Numb"), but the symbol also connects the past and present, further highlighting Pink's belief that his whole life has been plagued by chaos. Furthermore, the symbol also contributes to the aforementioned themes of internal discord by evoking two wholly different ideas of the main character: the innocence of young Pink struck by illness conflicting with the image of adult Pink, catatonic as a result of his personal addictions and his self-imposed isolation.

While one might view the title line of "nobody home" as a reference to his wife's refusal to answer the phone as previously mentioned, another reading of the repeated line might see this as Pink referencing himself. Ever since the last brick was placed, Pink has slipped further into a catatonic state of depression. While sitting motionless in a chair watching television, his conscious mind might very well recognize the decline in his mental health, thus referring to his own lapse in sanity when singing that "nobody [is] home." Though the thought of someone who is reasonably cognizant of their insanity might seem a bit contradictory or oxymoronic, it is no more different than Pink's later euphemisms in "The Trial" in which he notes his dementia with lines such as "crazy, over the rainbow, I am crazy." Therefore it is quite reasonable that Pink's realization is not about the love he has lost but rather about the mind he is losing to decay.

Either reading of the title line ultimately leads to the same place: Pink's realization that despite all that he has, he has nothing. Such things as wealth and fame are trifles when compared to matters of the heart and soul. Not only does he realize the things that are gone but also those things that he believed he once had might not have ever been his in the first place. His childhood innocence is nothing more than a memory. His faith in the world is all but destroyed. And what he once considered love is nothing more than thousands of miles of telephone wire and a ringing phone that no one ever answers.

With the awareness that all that he was thought of as stable is now anything but, Pink concludes the song by recognizing that even his ties to the past are "fading roots." The self-imposed isolation has not only cut him off from the rest of the world but has also severed his ties with whatever person he was before the last brick was laid. Nevertheless, though his roots are "fading" they have not been severed. By comprehending, at least partially, the effects of his isolation, Pink proceeds with the idea of returning home that he first considered in "Hey You." In his 1979 interview, Waters stated that "he's getting ready to establish contact if you like, with where he started, and to start making some sense of what it was all about." Though Pink still may not fully recognize his own responsibility in the making of some of his bricks (such as driving his wife to adultery), he does acknowledge the need to see where things went wrong and, if possible, the need to correct his life.

The movie's depiction of "Nobody Home" is quite possibly my favorite sequence in the entire film. The cinematography is both beautiful and disturbing with images full of rich and complex symbolism that belie the apparent calmness of the scene much as the lyrics of the song intimate deeper feelings of discord. The sequence opens with Pink, eyebrows newly shaven, watching "the Dambusters" on TV. Although the memories of his father uncovered by this film sparked a violent outburst in Pink earlier in the film, now only the faintest hint of tears line his eyes before he changes the channel. Even then the very act of pressing the buttons to change the channel recall images of Pink dialing the phone, presumably trying to reach his wife, and then stabbing it in frustration with a broken wine glass. He continues to hammer on the remote before returning, as always, to "The Dambusters" as if his subconscious mind won't allow him to escape the feelings he has buried and to continue living in self-imposed isolation.

He watches the movie with resignation as the scene changes to what Gerald Scarfe calls a "musical alienated landscape." Though Pink's solitude is conveyed visually in the vast panorama of dead grasses and bare trees, his psychological defenses are equally shown in the barbed wire fence and crossed hammers (once again, a symbol of violence, creation / destruction) silhouetted in the foreground. He is alone on his own battleground, protected from the enemy just as he is detached from those he loves. Pounding himself against his chair, Pink proceeds with the idea of returning to his roots referred to at the end of the song when his adult body fades into that of his young self. As mentioned above in the lyrical analysis, the conflict of ideas is illustrated once more as young Pink explores the barren, war-torn landscape, the innocence of youth prominent against the brutal destruction, the dead soldier, and the trenches barren of life. Paralleling his metaphoric departure into the dark and unknown depths of his own mind, young Pink descends into the trench and is engulfed by darkness…

…only to emerge on a lower level amidst the row of infirmary beds first shown in the cut footage from "Hey You." Passing by a bed with a straight jacket flung over the sheets, young Pink ventures into a side room to find his older self crouching in a corner holding tight to his "little black book." Young Pink darts from the room after touching his older self's shoulder and confronting the crouching man's crazed eyes and insane grin. [Perhaps this is the long-foreshadowed self who left the backwards message in "Empty Spaces," asking those who reply to the secret note to send their answers to "old Pink, care of the Funny Farm" (a euphemism for an insane asylum).] There are a number of ways to view this startling encounter, each of which is equally convincing and valid. One might suggest that this is the first time that Pink, now taking the form of his childhood self in an attempt to rediscover his "fading roots," confronts his subconscious mind as represented by the crazed adult self cringing in the corner. If so, it is quite easy to see why Pink would flee his repressed self. Until now, he has projected onto the world his own faults making himself into a blameless martyr slighted by Life. Yet for one brief instant, Pink comes face to face with his insanity and retreats upon the realization that it perhaps it is himself and not the world that is unbalanced.

Another reading views the scene as a first meeting between the ideals and innocence of young Pink (those youthful dreams sung of in "Mother") and his current, world-wearied self. It's the conflict between innocence and experience and the reaction of that childlike purity when faced with what one will become. Crouching and crazed in an insane asylum is far from the hopeful Pink's childhood aspirations of "run[ning] for President." And so the younger self retreats either because of the understanding that he is, subconsciously, this very same monster or because of the fear that this is what he will become if he doesn't rediscover his true self and bring down his wall.

After running across the playing field, Pink walks through the muddied trenches while observing a pile of dead bodies blocking one entire branch of the trench. Taking the opposite route, young Pink stops to pull a blanket partially over a young, dead soldier, an action of caring reminiscent of one soldier's somewhat motherly comforting of another in the sequence for "The Thin Ice." Yet the difference between these war shots and those from "the Thin Ice" is that Pink is now an active part in the sequence. While he lay cruciform in the pool in "The Thin Ice," imagining the grisly deaths of his father and rest of the Royal Fusiliers Company C, his young self now wanders the desolate landscape actively remembering, or rather trying to reconstruct, his past and his place in it. Though he was far from any battlefield as a baby, the sacrifices of the British soldiers during the war, especially that of his father directly influenced his life. The war was both the first brick in his wall and the first bomb dropped in his mental landscape. Only now is Pink "coming home" to assess the damage of all these bricks, starting with the very first one.

"The Dambusters" once again fills the screen, though this time during an emotional scene involving, quite appropriately, death and personal loss. Steve Jasper e-mailed the following information: "The sequence we hear [and see], arguably one of the saddest in cinematic history, is the death of Nigger the dog. The dog is owned by one of the pilots who's on the raid and the dog is wandering around the air-base as he often did. But he gets lost because his master isn't around. The posh sounding officer laughs and turns him away and somebody else tells him he isn't supposed to be where he is. So he carries on wandering around. The dog then gets run over (by one of the officers, I think, but whoever it is becomes very concerned). People realize and run around to check if he's all right, but he dies. And everyone's sad and they think of it as a bad omen for the raid (although the raid goes well). The fact is that this clearly works on different levels. For a start, in 'The Dambusters', the death of the dog can be seen as a metaphor for the people dying in the war, but more apparent to us is the connection between Nigger and Pink. Pink's dad isn't there and Pink gets sort of lost." Ironically, it's during this moment of death and loss that Pink fully regresses to his past in an attempt to find himself. Young Pink watches his adult, catatonic form for a second before walking off into the barren landscape. Like the soldiers disappearing into the mist in "the Thin Ice," young Pink vanishes into the thick, white smoke that fills the screen. However, unlike the soldiers who metaphorically vanished into death and anonymity, Pink strides into the mist in the hopes that he will rescue himself from the dementia created by his own obscure individuality.

 

All music and lyrics are copyrighted by Pink Floyd. Images copyrighted by Pink Floyd and MGM studios. A Litarary Analysis of Pink Floyd's The Wall copyrighted by Bret Urick 1997- 2006.