Risen Above

Over It
(lyrics by Matthew Thiessen)

I'll admit to who I am
The day I come to understand
I haven't got a clue
Been searching for a few years now

If I don't repeat myself
Then I'll change into someone else
Well I don't quite know who
Been searching for a few years

Now I'm over it
Yeah behind me now I'm just over it
Over it
Yeah I'm finding out I'm just over it
No I don't know what's over just yet
But I won't go slow
And time can let the mind forget
Don't tell me you don't know
Already

I'll protect your universe
Or make a mess to make it worse
Well time will only tell
You and no one else so

I'm over it
Yeah behind me now I'm just over it
Over it
Yeah I'm finding out I'm just over it
No I don't know what's over just yet
But I won't go slow
And time can let the mind forget
Don't tell me you don't know
Already
Don't tell me you let go
Oh

You say you made up your mind and you finally decided
But those that helped you choose
Haven't the slightest clue as to
The magnitude of what you're about to lose

I'm guarded and therefore I can endure
A little bit more
Just a little more
Than some people would
If I'm not misunderstood
It's still an attempt to be egoless while self-assured
If I'm still unsure that I'm pretty sure
That I am pretty good
Oh God you know I'm good and

Over it
Yeah behind me now I'm just over it
Over it
Yeah I'm finding out I'm just over it
No I don't know what's over just yet
But I won't go slow
And time can let the mind forget
Don't tell me you don't know
Already
Don't tell me you let go
Already
Don't tell me you don't know
(Already)
Don't tell me you don't know
(Don't tell me you don't know)

(the sound of a door opening and closing)

----

In case you never listened to a single Relient K song before you started reading my analysis of Forget and Not Slow Down, there's a strong theme of self-discovery in Thiessen's songwriting.  Even the very first Relient K album had songs like "Balloon Ride," in which Thiessen metaphorically takes a ride in a balloon from which "everything seems clear."  His search for new/fresh perspectives, which coincides with his walk with the Lord, has been present from the very first, and he's telling us at the start of "Over It" that he's still not done learning new things about himself.  I commiserate with this, because all my life I've been making observations about my own behavior in an attempt to understand myself, and to guide my own behavior towards something a bit more conscionable.


This explanation is further complicated, because as Thiessen reveals people change or they stagnate.  It's why he's still searching for who he is—and incidentally who he'll become—and the need not to stagnate is why he continues to change.  The line from "Therapy" about having a death grip on transitioning life should be read with this concept in mind.


But now, Thiessen says, he's over it.  He's over searching for himself?  Maybe, but as the chorus develops he admits he doesn't really "know what's over."  Not yet at least.  Either way, he's determined not to slow down, and retreads the idea that maybe he can ignore the problem and let time heal all wounds by making him forget.  This seems to contradict the therapy he was getting in the previous song.  Maybe this is a bit of arrogance coming through, or maybe it's a resurgence of the sort of apathy Thiessen sang about in his song "Apathetic Way to Be," which is more about not making a big deal about things he can't change to much.  Either way, he seems to think he's over it.  


Then there's what may well be the central line of the song, "Don't tell me you don't know already."  Don't know what?  Well, I think that's the main point.  This could be a prod at the audience to pay attention, or a lament that his ex-love is forgetting him quickly.  It's also interestingly placed right after the line about time letting the mind forget.  But have you forgotten already?  The way Thiessen sings this line, with melancholy and disappointment, makes it necessary to tie at least part of the meaning to that line about forgetting.  There's evidence here, then, that Thiessen is conflicted about this idea of just forgetting.  He doesn't want it forgotten just yet, like it never happened at all.  This is important, because it explains some of the connection between "Over It" and "Sahara."  As chill as this song is musically, I think the emotional core of it is a little more turbulent than narrator-Thiessen wants to let on.


Thiessen dwells a bit on his own part in the break-up in the second verse, admitting that while he could "protect [her] universe" he could also "make a mess to make it worse."  But apparently only she can know, so Thiessen lets it go and gets "over it."


There's a line added to the chorus that follows after the verse, with Thiessen pleading not to be told "you['ve]" let go.  Later, "already" is added to this line too.  This line can probably be read as meant for the lady, but it's of note because it has the same inner conflict that its companion line has.  


The bridge is reminiscent of an earlier Relient K song called "Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet?" which I've mentioned before.  There's a strong parallel between the lines about the subject making up her mind and having others help her "choose" who don't really understand, and the lines in "Which to Bury" that go "Make your decision and don't think twice/go with your instincts along with some bad advice."  I'll point out again how much differently Thiessen seems to be handling his emotions now as opposed to then.  


I've just noticed a stronger parallel, right about as old as the theme of self-searching.  You see, in the premier Relient K album there's a song called "Marilyn Manson Ate My Girlfriend," in which Thiessen's ex is lured away by an outside voice who Thiessen views as deceptive.  In Anatomy of the Tongue in Cheek there's a song, "What Have You Been Doing Lately," about friends slipping away from the narrow road.  Yet, Thiessen's distress has been tempered by experience, so that by now, in "Over It," he sounds completely level-headed when he says she's losing out on something huge because she listened to someone else.  There's a foreshadowing here towards the penultimate song on the album (counting the last two tracks as one song), "If You Believe Me," as well as a harking back to "Therapy," where God's the only one still listening to Thiessen.  It might have something to do with Thiessen's sardonic streak, which he anguishes over, especially in songs like "Bite My Tongue" from Five Score and Seven Years Ago and a little in "Curl Up and Die" from the Nashville Tennis EP.  


It's this sort of interconnectedness to Thiessen's music that fascinates me, especially since that aspect ramped up so much in Forget and Not Slow Down.  It's ironic to have all these allusions that require the listener to pay attention and remember what's gone before in an album named after trying to forget.


Maybe, just maybe, the sort of forgetting Thiessen's getting at is not the kind you usually think of when you think about forgetting.  Don't tell me you hadn't picked up on that, yet.  "Don't tell me you don't know already."


Wow, I've talked a lot, but there's still more to talk about.  We've got the next section, and the very end.  Just bear with me guys.


Thiessen tells us he keeps his guard up pretty much always, which is why he seems pretty chill about things, but he tries to keep this from sounding like bragging by minimizing it ("just a little bit more") and by pointing out that he's trying "to be egoless while self-assured."  Even so, he's not so sure of himself, but he thinks he's good, or at least he's "over it."


And with all the points he's been making and everything I've been pointing out, I'm pretty sure if you want to say "What, exactly, is he over?" that Thiessen would respond with a resounding, "Yeah."


The song ends with Thiessen echoing his incredulous, "Don't tell me you don't know" until the music fades, and we hear a door open and close as if someone is leaving (or coming in).  I have to admit that until today I thought the entry/exit sound came at the very start of "Sahara" and not at the end of "Over It."  Either way, the sound is a significant transition between the two.  It sounds to me like desolation, which is what Thiessen is trying to hide in today's song and what he admits to in spectacular fashion in the next.  It also reminds me of another significant Relient K song on a different album:  "Deathbed," a song-story about a man dying of lung cancer, which begins with the sound of someone opening a door and sitting down.  That particular sound image is interesting in retrospect because the narrator of "Deathbed" insists he is dying alone, but that sound suggests otherwise.

I hark back now once again to "Therapy," and God as the Listener.

With that thought, get ready for tomorrow.  I'm going to try to have even more interesting things to say about "Sahara" tomorrow than I did the first time, if I can help it.  For now, though, have a blessed day.

Ciao.