An Accidental Man - an analysis

Just posting song lyrics is probably the lamest thing a blogger can do outside of cat blogging so I thought I'd pen some, er, thoughts as I seem to be about to liveblog another bout of depression.

This was the first Marillion album I owned, even though it was a remix album, so a little later I bought the original as well.

One of the tracks that didn't get remixed was 'An Accidental Man'. It never really stood out until recently, when I heard the simple, yet effective, riff in iTunes and repeated it about 10 times to catch the lyrics.

The song isn't a 100% representation of me or my depression but it is close. If you changed the phrases 'I was taught' to something like 'I taught myself' then it would probably be more accurate.

Sometimes I do feel like I've fallen into the 'job' of being a man without really wanting it. The demands of the role aren't something that I've ever looked out for but I find myself having to shoulder regardless. Maybe it's a lack of direction or even a lack of adulthood. I guess I just don't feel together in the way I see men like my Dad are together.

My parents, and those of the kids I grew up with, were migrants who came to a new country with very little (including very little English) and so had to carve out new lives in a new land. I think that taking the big step to leave home for a new, strange place helped forge a sense of calling, which helped them through the rough times.

I can't help but think that this calling hasn't rubbed off onto me. And maybe it's helped fuel a sense of directionless that seems to accompany my more depressed moments.

Probably the lyric I most identify with is:

So try and understand if
I don't say all I can
A stranger to myself I am
An accidental man

When I'm struggling with depression I don't tend to say all that much about it. (Fortunately, Madame2Bar can pick up on the moods quite easily because she's quite smart and I'm quite not subtle). I don't like talking about it because I'm not really the communicative type to begin with, let alone trying to analyse complex feelings that relate to parts of me that I don't normally interact with. Sometimes, not being able to talk about it means exactly that - I would if I could, but I can't.

I hate depression for the disconnect and the lost feeling. I hate the way it makes me feel wrong and small and inadequate. I guess I feel like a failed person, someone who has stumbled their way into this life.

An accidental man, indeed.

Here is a a live (bad) Youtube of the song. I was most impressed that, despite my exile from the guitar, I was still able to work out the main riff in my head.

Ewww, video captured on mobile phones at concerts sucks. Here's a copy of Marillion's best known (probably) song Kayleigh so you can see how they sound with better sound.