Note: In 2021 I’ll publish one blog post per week. Here’s entry 13 of 52.
Here’s a playlist of thirteen songs I like with antipsychiatry themes. If you aren’t familiar with the topic, this post of mine from two weeks ago is as good a place to start as any.
I ordered the playlist not in any ranking, but in a sequence I find enjoyable for listening, akin to a mixtape from the days of old. I added very broad genre tags to each title; such categorizations are infinitely debatable, which can get boring. I simply put the tags there to aid hurried people who might prefer not to invest a lot of time trying out a type of music they hate.
After each youtube embed, you’ll find the song’s lyrics and then a paragraph from me commenting on the music. If you can suggest any additional entries for the playlist, please do so in the comments. Enjoy!
1. Metallica’s “Welcome Home (Sanitarium)” live in Seattle 1989, originally from their 1986 album Master of Puppets. Genre: Heavy Metal
Welcome to where time stands still No one leaves and no one will Moon is full, never seems to change Labeled mentally deranged Dream the same thing every night I see our freedom in my sight No locked doors, no windows barred No things to make my brain seem scarred Sleep my friend and you will see That dream is my reality They keep me locked up in this cage Can't they see it's why my brain says "rage" Sanitarium, leave me be Sanitarium, just leave me alone Build my fear of what's out there Cannot breathe the open air Whisper things into my brain Assuring me that I'm insane They think our heads are in their hands But violent use brings violent plans Keep him tied, it makes him well He's getting better, can't you tell? No more can they keep us in Listen, damn it, we will win They see it right, they see it well But they think this saves us from our hell Sanitarium, leave me be Sanitarium, just leave me alone Sanitarium, just leave me alone Fear of living on Natives getting restless now Mutiny in the air Got some death to do Mirror stares back hard Kill, it's such a friendly word Seems the only way For reaching out again
I must have listened to “Sanitarium” a million times in middle and high school. (I’ve never heard a metalhead call this song “Welcome Home”; everyone just calls it “Sanitarium,” an old term for psychiatric hospital.) The live footage above is from Metallica’s peak period, no doubt accelerated by, not psych drugs, but the recreational kind. It’s nice to see Lars Ulrich putting in effort on the drums, unlike in recent decades. The lyrics portray well how psychiatrists typically just make things worse, leading their locked up patients to resent them and fire back, a doomed dance so long as genuine help remains drowned out by corporate volume. But it’s a little silly to imagine hospitalized patients staging a rebellion; realistically, people confined in in-patient settings are far too drugged and beaten down to resist much, and meanwhile, getting with the program, or pretending to, is how patients get discharged. I once saw a tall, muscular black patient repeatedly insist, for days, to the staff that he didn’t like how he was being treated. He talked with other patients, suggesting that they too speak up. The other patients kept their distance; plenty of patients in general nowadays say their hospitalizations are helpful, comparing them to worse family/friend situations instead of to what’s possible if people just tried. Anyway, the staff kept giving the outspoken black man Thorazine pills, and as far as I ever saw, he was made sluggish, tamping down on his efforts. Back to the song, I like Kirk Hammett’s melodic guitar solos early on. The fast section ending this tune, like the equivalent fast section ending many metal songs, sounds good, though a bit generic to me. A frenzied solo plays and cymbals bang, as more or less as expected. Thankfully the underlying chord progression is dramatic and enjoyable.
2. Suicidal Tendencies’ “Institutionalized” the single from their 1983 self-titled debut album Suicidal Tendencies. Genre: Metal/Punk crossover
Sometimes I try to do things and it just doesn't work out the way I want it to. And I get real frustrated and, like, I try hard to do it and I, like, take my time and it doesn't work out the way I want it to. It's like I concentrate on it real hard but it just doesn't work out. And everything I do and everything I try, it never turns out. It's like, I need time to figure these things out. But there's always someone there going: "Hey Mike, you know, we've been noticing you've been having a lot of problems lately, you know? Maybe you should get away and, like, maybe you should talk about it, you'll feel a lot better." And I go: "No, it's okay, you know. I'll figure it out, just leave me alone, I'll figure it out, you know. I'm just working on myself." And they go: "Well you know, if you want to talk about it, I'll be here, you know. And you'll probably feel a lot better if you talk about it. So why don't you talk about it?" I go: "No, I don't want to, I'm okay, I'll figure it out myself." But they just keep bugging me, and they just keep bugging me, and it builds up inside. So you're gonna be institutionalized You'll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes You won't have any say They'll brainwash you until you see their way. I'm not crazy — Institution You're the one that's crazy — Institution You're driving me crazy — Institution They stuck me in an institution, Said it was the only solution, to give me the needed professional help, to protect me from the enemy: myself. I was in my room and I was just, like, staring at the wall thinking about everything, But then again, I was thinking about nothing. And then my mom came in and I didn't even know she was there. She called my name and I didn't hear her and then she started screaming: "MIKE! MIKE!" And I go: "What, what's the matter?" She goes: "What's the matter with you?" I go: "There's nothing wrong, Mom." She goes: "Don't tell me that, you're on drugs!" I go: "No Mom, I'm not on drugs, I'm okay, I'm just thinking you know, why don't you get me a Pepsi?" She goes: "No, you're on drugs!" I go: "Mom I'm okay, I'm just thinking." And she goes: "No, you're not thinking, you're on drugs! Normal people don't be acting that way!" I go: "Mom, just get me a Pepsi, please. All I want is a Pepsi." And she wouldn't give it to me. All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give it to me. Just a Pepsi. They give you a white shirt with long sleeves Tied around you're back, you're treated like thieves Drug you up because they're lazy It's too much work to help a crazy. I'm not crazy — Institution You're the one who's crazy — Institution You're driving me crazy — Institution They stuck me in an institution, Said it was the only solution, to give me the needed professional help, to protect me from the enemy: myself. I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in, and they pulled up a chair and they sat down. They go: 'Mike, we need to talk to you." And I go: "Okay, what's the matter?" They go: 'Me and your mom have been noticing lately that you've been having a lot of problems, and you've been going off for no reason and we're afraid you're going to hurt somebody, and we're afraid you're going to hurt yourself! So we decided that it would be in you're best interest if we put you somewhere where you could get the help that you need." And I go: "Wait, what are you talking about, WE decided!? MY best interests?! How do you know what MY best interest is? How can you say what MY best interest is? What are you trying to say, I'M crazy? When I went to YOUR schools, I went to YOUR churches, I went to YOUR institutional learning facilities?! So how can you say I'm crazy?' They say they're gonna fix my brain Alleviate my suffering and my pain But by the time they fix my head Mentally I'll be dead. I'm not crazy — Institution You're the one who's crazy — Institution You're driving me crazy — Institution They stuck me in an institution Said it was the only solution to give me the needed professional help, to protect me from the enemy: myself. Doesn't matter, I'll probably get hit by a car anyways.
Unfortunately I never really checked out Suicidal Tendencies besides this one particular song, an MTV hit in its day. The lyrics are probably pretty relatable for many teenagers even today. One of the interesting facts about severe mental health problems is that they usually begin — plenty of exceptions, but usually — during adolescence, when people are expected to transition from childhood to “adulthood,” which is what we call complicity with corporations and their ancillaries (such as the education system) and the adoption of non-philosophies like Don’t think too hard, don’t care too much, get a job any job. There are a lot of ways to bail on this “adulthood,” and one of them is to develop the semi-involuntary, semi-voluntary capability to escape into altered states, especially when suffering extreme emotions, a kind of “non-compliance” with the corporate/military world that surrounds everyone. Thus fittingly, the lyrics of “Institutionalized”, and many other songs on this list, portray characters’ teenage years. I don’t know much about singer Mike Muir, who formed the band as a teen himself, but his vocalizations of the run-on sentence lyrics sound like he lived something like the lyrics describe, see for instance his use of psych industry jargon with the phrase “institutional learning facility.” Musically, I like the dramatic tension created by the chromatic chord progression in the chorus, chords going up and down over and over by just a half step. There’s also a neat bit on the electric guitar that’s easy to miss between about 1:34 and about 1:40, palm-muted arpeggios, I think in the middle of the guitar neck, that sound really dissonant and abnormal/deviant (insane) for a song’s verse section. I also like how in the music video, Muir’s bandmates in their eye-catching white car function as his rescuers; Muir’s existential answers rest with them, and at the video’s close, in the front passenger seat, he rides off with his comrades into the night.
3. Dead Kennedys’ “Insight” from their 1987 album Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death. Genre: Punk
Who's that kid in the back of the room? Who's that kid in the back of the room? He's setting all his papers on fire He's setting all his papers on fire Where did he get that crazy smile? Where did he get that crazy smile? We all think he's really weird We all think he's really weird We never talk to him He never looks quite right He laughs at us, we just beat him up What he sees escapes our sight Sight! We never see him with the girls We never see him with the girls He's talking to himself again He's talking to himself again Why doesn't he want tons of friends? Why doesn't he want tons of friends? Says he's bored when we hang around Says he's bored when we hang around We never talk to him He never looks quite right He laughs at us, we just beat him up What he sees escapes our sight Sight! We're all planning our careers We're all planning our careers We're all planning our careers He says we're growing old
I really like this song. It’s short, like so many Dead Kennedys and punk songs in general are. Having grown up on metal, I’m always like, “Where’s the guitar solo?” Anyway, check out the lyrics: they’re told from the perspective of the conformist teens at school, who can’t fathom someone who gets “bored” with them and doesn’t need “tons of friends.” The chorus has some good musical humor that matches the lyrics, not just singer Jello Biafra’s goofy modulation of the word “sight” (right after “escapes our”), but that bass line too. I’m not sure how to characterize it, except both the bass line and the guitar chords in the background are really Beginner 101 stuff musically, and that serves to highlight the stupid conformity of the song’s narrators. Jello Biafra dancing around like a goofball on stage makes it even more indicting somehow… a little like their improvised(?) live song “Night of the Living Rednecks” from Portland Oregon in 1979 — which also mentions pretending to be a mental patient. Back to “Insight,” a quick dissonant chord progression ends the song, with Biafra’s lyrics hitting a usual point for him, the barrenness of careerism.
4. Daniel Mackler’s “The Psych Med Song” from his 2009 album Songs from the Locked Ward. Genre: Folk
Prozac Buspar Xanax too Haloperidol for you Zoloft Zyban Trazodone Antabuse and Methadone If neuroleptics make you shake then Benztropine you must take They profit from the drugs they sell From the side effects as well Thorazine Amphetamine Luvox Carbamazapine Clozapine and Stelazine Protripyline lamotrigine Valium and Ativan viagra for the modern man But now some ladies take it too Off-label is good for you! Abilify and Mellaril Klonopin Anafrinil Naltrexone oxazepam Rozerem triazolam Celexa went generic, oh So let's brand name it Lexapro Tweak the formula a touch Sells for thirty times as much Venlafaxine Doxepin Benificat and Ambien Cymbalta and Adderall Serzone and Propanolol Bupropion does not sound fun So market it as Wellbutrin If its drug name makes you chafe Change its name so it sounds safe Effexor and Vistaril Lunesta and Tofranil Librium and Nembutal Zeldox Phenobarbital It takes a town to raise a kid But barring that there’s Ritalin Pills are good for kids I know The FDA it told me so Topomax and Trilafon Depakote and Geodon Methylin Modafinil Dexedrine and Dogmatil Lobotomy has since evolved Nowadays there’s Risperdal Zyprexa shrinks a monkey’s brain You tell me now who’s insane Nardil Paxil Elavil Prolixin and Seroquel Moban Marplan and Navane Benadryl and Loxitane Lithium will soothe your mood If it doesn’t poison you If you think they’re danger free Buy the Brooklyn Bridge from me Mirtazipine Nortriptyline Procyclidine fluphenazine Eldepryl and Loxapine Flurazepam Desipramine Symmetrel Reboxetine Halcion Trimipramine La la la—la la la La la la la la la….
“The Psych Med Song” is quite charming, the lyrics and the video both. The rhythm guitar parts are simple and clean, and over them the song has that little silly cute melody on the thin strings (reminding me somehow of the goofy beep melodies in Kraftwerk’s 1981 song “Pocket Calculator“). “The Psych Med Song” really shows what a musician can accomplish by merely using a flawless, even if simple, chord progression chugging away in the background, a nice memorable melody on the guitar repeating a few times (toward the end with harmony), and then clever lyrics with quality singing. The subject is something Mackler knows intimately from over a decade of experience as a therapist and documentary filmmaker, so that clearly touches his singing, and you can hear it in his voice.
5. Daniel Mackler’s “Bullshit” from his 2009 album Songs from the Locked Ward. Genre: Folk
They tell me my problem’s genetic, I'm born with a flaw in my brain They tell me I need medication, and force me to bury my pain Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles Their pills make me shaky and sweaty, I fear that they’re breaking my will They told me that this is quite normal, and added another new pill Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles They put me inside a straitjacket, they locked me inside of a cage They inject me with Haldol to calm me, yet wonder why I'm full of rage. Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles They give me a shrink I can talk to, but she is just spiritually dead. She only repeats the same question: “Are you still taking your meds?” Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles They forcefed me E. Fuller Torrey, But he is sadistic and gross. I asked them about Peter Breggin, They replied by increasing my dose. Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles Their studies are so scientific, and based on assiduous work. But they don’t share their affiliations with Lilly and Janssen and Merck. Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles They absolve all of my traumatizers, the horrors that they did to me. They tell me to put it behind me, and say that I need ECT. Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles I said I think I can recover, And taper off all of these meds. They tell me that’s just my delusion, An illness that lives in my head. Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles and miles Bullshit, bullshit, I’ve learned to smell bullshit from miles
A very combative song here from Daniel Mackler. His three songs in this playlist are all available on his 2009 album, which I still need to purchase myself. The rhythm guitar on “Bullshit” plays along steadily in the song’s background, like in “The Psych Med Song,” except instead of 4/4 time, “Bullshit” is in 6/4, sounding akin to a music box. I like the descending scalar runs from the lead guitar; it fits the 6/4 time somehow, like we’re placed into this dreamy world, except it’s not a good one; it’s the rose-tinted glasses dreamy world of conventional psychiatry, where if you just keep taking your “meds,” everything will be fine, no need to question or research who came up with the chemical imbalance theory and what the arguments for and against it are. The lyrics do a great, concise job of explaining why just going along with everything is bullshit and what’s really at stake.
6. Daniel Mackler’s “Little Bottles” from his 2009 album Songs from the Locked Ward. Genre: Folk
Little bottles in the cabinet Little bottles full of chemicals Little bottles from the doctor Little bottles for your head. There's a green pill And a pink pill and a blue pill and a yellow pill And they're all made out of chemicals And they make you feel good. There's Zyprexa and there's Prozac And Ritalin and lithium And Xanax and Risperidal And the MAOIs They're for depression and bipolar And anxiety and schizophrenia And for panic and for smoking and PTSD. There's a green pill And a pink pill and a blue pill and a yellow pill And they're all made out of chemicals And they make you feel good. But the people who take them Often get all sorts of funny side effects Like twitching and weight gain And some things that are worse Like loss of feelings And loss of passion Loss of focus and no erections And addictions and heart disease And sometimes suicide. There's a green pill And a pink pill and a blue pill and a yellow pill And they're all made out of chemicals And they make you feel good. Yet the shrinks all recommend them With their thousand-dollar consultations But you should trust them Because after all, half the shrinks take them too Numb the symptoms, ditch the therapy, Support the pharmaceutical industry Deny the traumas that caused the misery And pass them all on to your kids. There's a green pill And a pink pill and a blue pill and a yellow pill And they're all made out of chemicals And they make you feel good.
“Little Bottles” is very sad… It’s amazing how much can be accomplished with that simple rhythm guitar in the background (now mostly in 3/4 time), a singer singing of something he’s very experienced with and passionate about, and that repetition of There’s a green pill / And a pink pill / and a blue pill / and a yellow pill. When all is said and done, when all the fancy corporate science studies and voted-into-existence diagnostic codes and abusive legal jargon are over with, once we’ve finally finished hearing the multisyllabic vocabulary from above, then the traumatized person is left alone in the bathroom with a bottle of green pills, pink pills, blue pills to swallow… a ritual that says, You can’t take care of your mind without these, plus all the adverse side effects and no understanding of why extreme, altered emotional experiences are happening to the patients and increasingly more and more of humanity. Continuing to “Deny the traumas that caused the misery” will have really bad long-term consequences for everyone. Thankfully via Twitter and other sources, everyone can see people really risking themselves to improve the world, from climate activist Greta Thunberg to the numerous examples amplified by @YourAnonCentral (see also @yaccreate for solely good news). We can learn things to try out ourselves; we can empower ourselves.
7. Daniel Johnston’s “The Story of an Artist” from his 1982 album Don’t Be Scared. Genre: Lo-fi, outsider
(I don't know. It's like when you go to read your own poetry And you get all choked up.) Listen up and I'll tell a story About an artist growing old Some would try for fame and glory Others aren't so bold. Everyone and friends and family Saying, "Hey, get a job! Why do you only do that only? Why are you so odd?" "We don't really like what you do We don't think anyone ever will. It's a problem that you have, And this problem's made you ill." Listen up and I'll tell a story About an artist growing old. Some would try for fame and glory Others aren't so bold. The artist walks alone Someone says behind his back, "He's got his gall to call himself that! He doesn't even know where he's at." The artist walks among the flowers Appreciating the sun. He does this all his waking hours But is it really so wrong? They sit in front of their TVs. Saying, "Hey, this is fun!" And they laugh at the artist, Saying, "He doesn't know how to have fun." The best things in life are truly free. Singing birds and laughing bees. You got me wrong, says he. The sun don't shine in your TV. Listen up and I'll tell a story About an artist growing old. Some would try for fame and glory Others aren't so bold. Everyone and friends and family. Saying, "Hey, get a job! Why do you only do that only? Why are you so odd?" "We don't really like what you do We don't think anyone ever will It's a problem that you have And this problem's made you ill." Listen up and I'll tell a story About an artist growing old Some would try for fame and glory Others just like to watch the world.
“The Story of an Artist” is the only song I know by Daniel Johnston. He died in 2019; he was diagnosed with manic-depression and spent time in psychiatric hospitals. There’s a documentary about him that I haven’t seen. The lyrics are great. They make me want to spend more time outdoors instead of at my day job… The music, well, it reminds everyone that technical ability — so often prioritized to the exclusion of everything else by music teachers, music schools, etc. — is really not that important compared with creating/performing from the heart.
8. The Avalanches’ “Frontier Psychiatrist” from their 2000 debut album Since I Left You. Genre: Electronica
(Mr Kirk:) Is Dexter ill, is Dexter ill, is Dexter ill, is Dexter ill today? (Ms Fishborne:) Mr Kirk, Dexter's in school. (Mr Kirk:) I'm afraid he's not, Ms Fishborne. Dexter's truancy problem is way out of hand. The Baltimore County school board have decided to expel Dexter from the entire public school system. (Ms Fishborne:) Oh Mr Kirk, I'm as upset as you to learn of Dexter's truancy. But surely, expulsion is not the answer! (Mr Kirk:) I'm afraid expulsion is the only answer. It's the opinion of the entire staff that Dexter is criminally insane! That boy needs therapy, psychosomatic That boy needs therapy, purely psychosomatic That boy needs therapy Lie down on the couch! What does that mean? You're a nut! You're crazy in the coconut! What does that mean? That boy needs therapy I'm gonna kill you, that boy needs therapy Play the kazoo, let's have it tune On the count of three. That, that, that, that, that boy...boy needs therapy He was white as a sheet And he also made false teeth Avalanche is above, business continues below Did I ever tell you the story about— Cowboys! Mi—mi—midgets and the Indians and frontier psychiatrist I, I felt strangely hypnotized I was in another world, a world of 20,000 girls And milk! Rectangles, to an optometrist, a man with a golden eyeball And tighten your buttocks, pour juice on your chin. I promise my girlfriend I'd—the violin, violin, violin Frontier Psychiatrist. Frontier, frontier, frontier, frontier Frontier, frontier, frontier, frontier That boy needs therapy, psychosomatic That boy needs therapy, purely psychosomatic That boy needs therapy Lie down on the couch, what does that mean? You're a nut! You're crazy in the coconut! What does that mean? That boy needs therapy I'm gonna kill you, that boy needs therapy Ranagazoo, let's have a tune Now when I count three That, that, that, that, that boy...boy needs therapy He was white as a sheet And he also made false teeth Frontier Psychiatrist Can you think of anything else that talks, other than a person? Uh um, uh um, a bird? Yeah! Sometimes a parrot talks Ha ha ha ha ha !!!! Yes, some birds are funny when they talk... Can you think of anything else? Um, a record, record, record?
“Frontier Psychiatrist” is an electronica collage of surreal samples and lyrics set to a hypnotizing drum beat and a repetitive chromatic progression (up and down a single half step) with various melodies coming and going on top of it. Kind of like how in psychiatric hospitals, patients are recommended to create collages with glue sticks, infantilizing, as if they’re elementary school students. The song, especially with the extremely surreal music video (be sure to watch it!), captures the weird insanity of Freudian philosophy. The video shows old white psychiatrists in suits jabbing their pointing fingers and saying over and over “That boy needs therapy!” while bizarre mental health memes float by: patients lying on a couch, odd references to sex, the repetition of “What does that mean?” (something you must pay a psychoanalyst to find out), depictions of legal power (expelling Dexter from the school system), and more. The song sounds like the internal world of someone dreaming or being psychoanalyzed. Regarding the infectious music (see what I did there), it’s amazing what artists can create when they follow their own curiosity instead of others’ expectations. This song isn’t something generic you’d expect from commercial radio or similar safe sources, but surprisingly, the song did well commercially, including on radio.
9. Wall of Voodoo’s “Mexican Radio” single from their 1982 album Call of the West. Genre: New wave
I feel a hot wind on my shoulder And the touch of a world that is older. I turn the switch and check the number I leave it on when in bed I slumber. I hear the rhythms of the music I buy the product but never use it. I hear the talking of the DJ Can't understand, just what does he say? I'm on a Mexican radio I'm on a Mexican radio I dial it in and tune the station They talk about the U.S. inflation. I understand just a little No comprende--it's a riddle. I'm on a Mexican radio I'm on a Mexican radio I wish I was in Tijuana Eating barbequed iguana. I'd take requests on the telephone I'm on a wavelength far from home. I feel a hot wind on my shoulder I dial it in from south of the border I hear the talking of the DJ Can't understand, just what does he say? Radio radio…
It might be a little off (deviant, abnormal) to consider Wall of Voodoo’s “Mexican Radio” an antipsychiatry song, but to me it counts as one somehow. The singer’s radio tuner-like vocal modulations, the persistence of the hyped-up electronica beat (resembling radio equipment or medical machinery), and the mind-bending bleeps at the start and following the choruses, sound like a depleted mental state feels, everything stressed, tense, and crazed… The lyrics express the info-junkie’s addiction to unusual sources of information, whether the border blasters (unregulated radio stations) that inspired this song, or the less known corners of the Internet today; and, some degree of that info-addiction appears common in people with severe mental health problems, in my experience. Perhaps too much of our technology just makes our mental lives worse. That being said, “Mexican Radio” is a very fun song, and without strong conduits to important knowledge (including contemporary samizdat), people just stay stuck in the default corporate/military echo chamber. The character in the lyrics is “on a wavelength far from home.” That’s similar in feel to the pursuit of unusual interests often wrongly categorized as characteristic of mental problems instead of as healthy curiosity. I guess the question is, will the character’s hobby/passion hurt or help the person? The character remains dedicated to radio regardless.
10. Nujabes’ “The Sign” from his 2005 album Modal Soul. Genre: Nu Jazz
Do we wanna watch it fall apart? Every time I walk, I watch I look, I notice, I observe, I read the signs And the signs are pointing in the wrong direction The signs are not naming the streets Or leading me to the highway The signs are naming names. Tombstones to mark the death of children not even born And I don't mean abortion, I mean what is to come The signs are telling me to turn back around The signs are telling me to research my past The signs are telling me to learn from my mistakes The signs are asking me questions. Do you wanna watch it all fall apart? Do you have any control? Is there anything that you can do? Time is not a nice person I know because the sign said it Time can be generous but ultimately time is indifferent Time does not give two damns or a fuck So what will you do? What will we do? So I'm in the middle of the street talkin' to the signs And people are lookin' at me pointing and laughing Like, "This mothafucker's crazy!" But do they not see the signs? Do you not see the signs? If there is one thing in this world That you can depend on That you can bet your last dollar on It's the ignorance of the American people But still I have faith And still I read the signs And they are indeed there Some of us are lost and will not find our way No matter what the signs say Some of us do not see the signs because we are too busy shopping Some of us do not see the signs because we can't help but stop and look at the accidents and stare We are in a daze, we are amazed by the world's displays Some of us do not see the signs because we are giving spare change to the homeless We are getting gas, we are volunteering for duty, and we are watching television We are driving around in circles on spinners and we are working eight to six We are on our way to the club We are high, we are drunk, and we are sober And we do not see the signs We are listening to a moron babble We are listening to tongues that lie We give them an ear, we give them a hand, we give them both eyes So we cannot see the signs. Slow, there are children playing in the streets And they cannot read the signs They are only children. Stop. Stop! I fear there is no U-turn And that this road dead-ends Because we cannot read the signs Do you not see the signs? We must read the signs And we must turn around We must turn around We gotta turn this shit around And we gotta read the signs We must read the signs... We must read the signs... We must read the signs... We gotta read the signs... We gotta turn this shit around... We gotta turn this shit around... We gotta read the signs...
The late Nujabes’ song “The Sign” has some really chill music. It’s great to hear an upright bass after all the fretted electric basses in the previous songs on this playlist. The piano is very pretty, and the rain stick (I think that’s what’s used) provides a soothing rhythm throughout. In front of this calming instrumental backdrop, Nujabes collaborator Pase Rock gives a strong, slightly abrasive spoken word performance. The lyrics express frustration with conformity, ignorance, and just going along with things, while at the same time valuing persistence (“And still I read the signs”) and some degree of optimism, that things might could be turned around. The subject of the lyrics is evocative of the delusions of reference experience in altered states, in which everyday perceptions seem to present exaggerated personal meanings, or grandiose personal salience, like supranormal stimuli does in various addictions (e.g., amphetamine seems to reveal that you’re special…but actually you’re just high).
11. A Tribe Called Red’s “We Are the Halluci Nation” from their 2016 album We Are the Halluci Nation. Genre: Electronica
We are the tribe that they cannot see We live on an industrial reservation We are the Halluci Nation We have been called the Indians We have been called Native American We have been called hostile We have been called Pagan We have been called militant We have been called many names We are the Halluci Nation We are the human beings The callers of names cannot see us, but we can see them We are the Halluci Nation Our DNA is of earth and sky Our DNA is of past and future We are the Halluci Nation We are the evolution, the continuation Halluci Nation The Halluci Nation We are the Halluci Nation We are the Halluci Nation
The private school, Western philosophy, pro-psychiatry world I grew up in would call it a stretch to suggest that it could have a serious harmful effect on a person’s mental health to walk around where genocide happened while not caring or taking action about it. From all I’ve learned in the last half decade, it’s really obvious such things do have effects on us. Just like savants can memorize mass amounts (or some people can’t forget anything), it’s completely sensible to suggest that regularly driving past First Nation centers or reservations would stir up the subject in people’s minds, even when they try to ignore it. Not in the sense that psychiatrists might accept, as if a little imaginary particle (say) floats from the reservation and penetrating an individual’s barriers and lodging itself into their psyche, causing abnormality. But rather, that we’re all trying to live in this weakened, self-destructive web, surrounded by pollution and other corporate-caused problems, while psychiatrists lecture us about and drug us into showing up for corporate work (or for corporations’ ancillaries) while maintaining a “good work ethic” and being “realistic” and all that, while our human needs are very, very different than our day jobs. If we don’t meet our needs, and instead file bureaucratic paperwork all day in some office job like members of the Imperial Civil Service, we might space out enough to forget our pains, but they’re still there along with the unmet needs, and rear their heads eventually. I like how early on in the song, the lyrics list various insults First Nations peoples have received, and then the song says: “The callers of names cannot see us, but we can see them.” Since their pseudo-scientific justifications are garbage, psychiatrists (after bullying or intimidating patients into not researching for themselves), basically are just name-calling others. You’re an autistic, you’re a bipolar, you’re a schizophrenic, you’re a this, you’re a that. And patients sometimes get so into becoming “consumers” of products produced for their particular label-from-above that they (in one case I saw) tattoo their DSM code on an ankle — the patient I knew who did that, later committed suicide, sadly. People forget the “earth and sky,” the “past and future.” Sure, people might pay some quick lip service to Nature and interconnected, transgenerational history, but when you look at where most of their time/effort goes, psychiatry focuses on maintaining the status quo and telling you it’s “unrealistic” to resist/replace the system in your own life. Ask your psychiatrist/therapist if you should quit your job, sell your possessions, and go defend natural resources with other water protectors as people I’ve known personally have done at great risk to themselves, and see what your mental health professionals advise you to do. So the real hallucination is replacing living in harmony with the environment, with driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic to weekly psychiatrist appointments to find out what you’re permitted to believe to stay “realistic.” And people (for a while anyway) “cannot see” this, but those underfoot “can see them.” And with those underfoot is where “the evolution, the continuation” lies, not in gated communities. As for the music, I like the keyboard’s tone, the reverb and vibrato on the notes. The driven drumbeat is also powerful and declarative.
12. David Rovics’ “Oppositional Defiant Disorder” from his 2007 live album The Commons, originally from his 2004 album Songs for Mahmud. Genre: Folk
Alex is a member of my record label Teenager though he is He joined Ever Reviled Records And the indie music biz His parents didn't like such turns of events So they called up a couple of thugs Send him back to Utah, lock him up And pump him full of drugs They say he's got problems with authority Yes this is what they claim And their psychiatric analysis Has even got a name Oppositional Defiant Disorder I think I got it, too Oppositional Defiant Disorder He's sick and so are you If you think George Bush is a moron And Tony Blair's a liar If you fantasize about setting Your local Wal-Mart on fire If you don't like Tom Brokaw And you think he's full of it If you feel a Rush Limbaugh punching bag Might be kinda fun to hit If bombing other countries Makes you feel appalled You have got a problem And this is what it's called Oppositional Defiant Disorder I think I got it, too Oppositional Defiant Disorder He's sick and so are you If you think school is boring And your teacher is a fool If you don't like your Congressman And you called him a corporate tool If you were not standing To sing "Save the Queen" If you turn down hamburgers And eat rice and beans We've got a diagnosis No matter whether you agree Just do what the doctor tells you Thank god for psychiatry Oppositional Defiant Disorder I think I got it, too Oppositional Defiant Disorder He's sick and so are you
“Oppositional Defiant Disorder” is only the second David Rovics song I’ve known; the first was “I’m a Better Anarchist Than You,” on youtube here live in Seattle 1995. When I used to write music, I’d have multiple parts going at once, threaded together, more than I could play singlehandedly or even with a second bandmate. So I’m very impressed when much is done with little, as in “Oppositional Defiant Disorder,” just acoustic guitar and vocals. The rhythm guitar is pretty straightforward. The lyrics are clever and fun. A little formulaic compositionally, but a nice, enjoyable song on topic.
13. Quiet Riot’s “Metal Health (Bang Your Head)” from their 1983 album Metal Health. Genre: Heavy Metal
Well I'm an axe-grinder, piledriver Momma says that I never never mind her Got no brains, I'm insane The teacher says that I'm one big pain. I'm like a laser, six-string razor I got a mouth like an alligator. I want it louder More power I'm gonna rock ya till it strikes the hour. Bang your head! Metal Health'll drive you mad Bang your head! Metal Health'll drive you mad Well I'm remonstrated Outdated I really want to be over-rated. I'm a finder and I'm a keeper I'm not a loser and I ain't no weeper. I got the boys to make the noise Won't ever let up Hope it annoys you! Join the pack Fill the crack Well now you're here There's no way back. Bang your head! Metal Health'll drive you mad Bang your head! Metal Health'll drive you mad Metal Health'll cure your crazy Metal Health'll cure your mad Metal Health is what we all need It's what you ought to have Bang your head Wake the dead We're all metal mad It's all you have So bang your head And raise the dead Oh yeah! Metal Health It's not too bad, bad, bad Bang your head! Metal health'll drive you mad Oh get your straitjackets on tonight, oh The bad boys are gonna set you right! Rock on, Rock on, Rock on Bang your head! Metal health'll drive you mad Bang your head!
This anthemic song is pretty cheeky. “Get your straitjackets on tonight”? Rudy Sarzo plays his loud bass lines with massive staccato, emphasizing the separateness of each individual note, the way a lot of ’70s and ’80s metal bassists did. “Metal Health” was probably intended to simultaneously get radio play (it’s easy on the ears, nothing complicated structurally or with the notes) — the album was the first in heavy metal to top the Billboard 200, displacing the Police’s Synchronicity record — and piss off worried parents, thus appealing to “non-compliant” teenagers. The album cover art (shown in the youtube thumbnail embedded above) has a guy in a straitjacket next to the words METAL HEALTH. I think that speaks for itself. Hey, gotta rebel somehow.
This blog post, Antipsychiatry playlist, by Douglas Lucas, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (human-readable summary of license). The license is based on a work at this URL: https://douglaslucas.com/blog/2021/04/03/antipsychiatry-playlist/. You can view the full license (the legal code aka the legalese) here. For learning more about Creative Commons, I suggest this article and the Creative Commons Frequently Asked Questions. Seeking permissions beyond the scope of this license, or want to correspond with me about this post one on one? Please email me: dal@riseup.net.
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