The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #321

#321: "Hemorrhage" (2000) - Fuel

Fuel was one of many bands that rode the crest of the Nu Rock wave in the late '90s and early '00s. Nu Rock sounded to me like a more depressing, less entertaining version of '80s hair metal; it was grunge with slicker production, the flannel given back to the Salvation Army in favor of the latest Hot Topic shirts, onto the sleeves of which they could tatoo their battered hearts. Bleh. Not-for-me.

It was for my band, though. We started playing together in late '00, and my bandmates (except for the Blue Falcon, but he soon would fly the coop) loved this swill. We'd argue often over what types of songs to play: I wanted to play songs that would inspire an audience to dance, and they wanted to play songs that would inspire an audience to rock. Guess who won the argument? We played songs by Creed, Staind, Default, Puddle of Mudd, Godsmack, P.O.D., Incubus, Nickelback (we played five Nickelback songs), and Fuel.

The first few times I listened to "Hemorrhage," I paid attention soley to the drum beat, trying my best to ignore the rest of that pouty, drony, sludge. Once I picked up the percussion pattern, though, the song started to seep into my skull. I started to appreciate it, thinking, "Okay--maybe this one's not quite so bad." I started yearning to hear it more, wondering why I liked this treacle, and one day it hit me: "Hemorrhage" is really a sea chanty! The drummer plays his high-hat disco style during the verses, and the strings often rise and fall, both of those elements mirroring the to-and-fro of the waves; the guitar solo sounds as if it were recorded underwater; a few of the images in the lyrics reflect this theme, as the song's about a lost love (as quite a few sea chanties are). Most sea chanties don't contain distorted guitar, growling vocals, and crashing cymbals, but, hey, there's always a first time!

The record's not perfect. There's the pathetic, overgrowled, hyperbolic, whining histrionics ("hold me now I feel contagious," "leave love bleeding in my hands"), but there's a bit of a poetic turn of a phrase here and there as well ("Am I the only place that you've left to go," "drag the waters till the depths give up their dead"). The songwriter mixes the metaphors, but some of the imagery leaves a sense of some strangely detailed aquatic morbidity. The record--whenever the singer's not pounding and screeching--carries with it--at times--a serious sense of lonliness, defeat, and desperation--the singer's last gasp and grasp before the waves of love's despair sweep him under.

At times, the record can feel more-than-a-bit bombastic: the singer and the imagery and the production are almost a parody of themselves. The production, arrangement, and vocal delivery are so over the top that I could easily imagine Spongebob Squarepants, in full rock-star mode, singing the song at a concert, with all the fish fans sobbing while worshipping at his feet.

The song haunts me, though. It seems there's something tragic here, not underneath the song, but in the aftertaste. I don't know; maybe I'm grasping at straws to justify including an oversung, bombastic power ballad, but the inclusion and mix of elements as disparate as a disco hi-hat, strings, and an underwater guitar solo in that same oversung, bombastic, power metal ballad belies a creativity unlike I've heard in any other nu-rock song and produces a disorienting sound that leaves a decidedly dampening effect on the soul.