#there's more to say with other songs in Cacophony too but I ain't rewriting this around those rn. it's already 3000 words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idislikethissite · 1 year

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An Interpretation and Review of Chonny’s Charming Chaos Compendium: an album of Tally Hall Cover/Remix/Mashups

Going by the name of Chonny Jash on youtube, he creates a stylistically unique form of “cover” (in addition to original songs, not included in this album) in which the original is covered, remixed and mashed up with tunes from other songs as well as adding entirely original lines; this allows for commenting on songs such as “Banana Man” and “Welcome to Tally Hall” within themselves, reframing ones like “Spring and a Storm” while maintaining the original tone, and expressing an epic psychospiritual story of self discovery, queerness and neurodivergence over the course of 18 songs. Content warning: suicide mention under the cut.

The album is split into three sections: Calamity, Cacophony, & Concord. Concord includes songs themed around tally hall itself or with a theme independent of the rest of the album, including Welcome to Tally Hall and Banana Man. Calamity acts to set the stage, with the lines in Time Machine which encourage the listener to loop the album and turn it over in their head to consider many interpretations.

So look, god look at what you’ve done now to me; locked into eternity, I’ll be back here one day, so they say.

Rumors have that I will write a different song, trying to get it right all afternoon.

Dream is the only other song in Calamity, setting the opening tune to Cacophony with an appropriate cacophony in itself.

Cacophony

Cacophony is the above-mentioned saga of self-exploration, and in contrast to the eventual gravity it begins with a remix of Mucka Blucka, which was originally entirely composed of chicken noises; the lyrics draw from both other Tally Hall songs and original lyrics (replete with chicken puns in , referencing themes to come: the division of the self into heart, mind & soul with conflict and unity between each (a theme rooted in Christian philosophy as far back as Augustine), the cyclicality of Cacophony, stagnation & change, and freedom & imprisonment.

Through Cacophony, there are three central character, each with distinctive voices. Named Heart, Mind and Soul with a directness to match a medieval morality play, they each snap and prod each other as conflicts flare. Ruler of Everything is a case where Heart and Mind can be seen; Heart takes the role of Juno in the original song, while Mind acts as what had been a personification of time; throughout Cacophony Mind also exhibits traits of a vindictive figure who lashes out with a position of carceral authority. This aspect of Mind is established here, with new lines following "Juno was mad/he knew he'd been had/so he shot at the sun with a gun/shot at his wily one, only friend":

Listen to this he shot and he missed. So Juno got what he deserved imprisonment was all that he earned. So let's stop on in and see if he learned a god damn thing.

The Tally Hall song "The Mind Electric" serves as the base for three new forms: The Heart Acoustic is the first, expressing the character of Heart—a spirited being prone to swooping experiences of vicissitudinous emotion, disparaging Mind while illustrating what Heart strives for:

Choose to sit safely out of the sun away from rays so blinding to the eye. Singing songs someone's already sung averting gaze from beautiful light. But as complacency settles, anxieties will rise and part this soul as Jekyll parted Hyde. Now I'm one half of a hollow man's lies the love, the hate, the emotional side.

While the heart strives to reach for the "light", the source of its inspiration, the full self lies in stagnation; wanting to act, but not doing it. This expresses very clearly the sensation of executive dysfunction as I've experienced it myself, being aware of potential, of oneself not acting toward it, and the infuriating awareness of not knowing why.

"I know that I'm weak. I know that I'm vile. But sometimes that's what's needed to survive." That's what I'll say to rationalize. "I'm needed if we're to stay alive." And yet, here I lie with black sunken eyes. My Mind's consigned our sighs to a leaden void. The Soul remains tempered. I remain plied. Condemned 'til we are both all but destroyed.

The Heart here recognizes the coping mechanisms of self-preservation as an attempt to justify its own presence in the self. But at the same time it is aware of the continued inaction of the self, and recognizes that its presence is not enough to pull the self from that inaction as well as that while passive, the total self is condemned by the Mind.

But I know that one plus one can't equal two if happiness is both our truths. Our total sum must equal one if we're to find that golden hue. So spiraling down entropically, I beg of thee have mercy on me. I am just a boy, you see. I plead of thee, have sympathy for me. See how it hurts when the sound begins to ring. And you feel it start to rot and you beg for it to stop But you've already dug your lot in the ground.

The Heart sees itself and the Mind, recognizing the conflict between them and the hostility and believing them to be inevitable; overcome with fatalism and sliding into a role of victimization, it blames Mind for the situation and sees death as an inevitable conclusion.

See how the Mind tricks the Soul into being something sickly, dead and cold. as you feel it start to tire and fester so, so slowly. Up until the point where it will finally die, just in time to see what could have been. Do what you want, you automaton freak. No I can no longer bring myself to care. This hollowed out vessel's beginning to creak so take control, let's see how you fare.

Heart's fatalism has bled into apathy, and control is handed off to Mind with a dare to do what Heart believes impossible: to find, or create, a reason not to kill the self.

The song following The Heart Acoustic is Spring and a Storm, establishing the views of Mind.

One time I tried to sing about... I don't know, but it was nothing fucking new. Yet another platitude. Yet another platitude. "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, bla-blah blah" is all they heard. Oh, you thought they were listening? No, don't be absurd.

The Mind defines itself beginning with a deep awareness of its unoriginality; everything to say, in the self for Mind or out of it for the self as a whole, has already been said. Nobody cares, and so it's both ridiculous and pointless to try to say anything at all.

I'm sure you really sang your Heart out or I'm sure that's how it seemed. But you and I both know so well now that looks can be deceiving. 'Cos "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, bla-blah blah" is so overdone. For a man cloaked in daylight, you sure hate the sun. When the tears stream down one day, obfuscated by the rain can you truly say with a straight face that you tried your best?

Heart is seen by Mind as pointless; spouting meaningless words while hiding in self pity, the inaction of the self as "not trying". This calls again to executive dysfunction and the ease with which someone blames themselves in the simultaneous desire to do something and awareness of their inaction.

As Mind pauses, Heart (denoted in parentheses) takes the opportunity to snap pointedly at him:

(Mr. Mind?) Yeah? (What do you see behind those dead, leaden eyes?)

Instead of returning the insult, Mind expresses his view of the self:

A Soul, so deep, and dark, and eternally cold. And an oath, formed from us both, that it would stay whole. But I think if I left it to you you'd fall under its weight and kill it too. But I won't let you ruin what we could still be. We have so much left to sing such a plain and simple thing. Yet your silence lines this pit in which we have lain. All this rage, despair, and shame that's been caged, ensnared and flamed form this atom bomb of songs refused to be played. So if you insist on crying while our host is slowly dying then I'll cut you loose and spare this noose the dead weight.

The self, as seen by Mind, is ultimately a thing of potential; potential restrained by the indecisive, self-pitying presence of Heart. Recognizing that Heart is part of the self, Mind still is expressly willing to try to separate the two of them to spare the self from wasting its potential—even if this is still by killing the self, at least it isn't wasted passively. But Mind still remembers a mutual oath between itself and heart, to continue living. Mind, ironically, is defined by this contradiction: pushing the self to keep living while threatening an end to it in death.

From here, The Mind Electric begins with an extended roast of Heart by Mind.

I could go on, but let's leave it there. Resident Heart is feeble and frail. A scourge to purge; due diligence is all Silent, sad outbursts, inaudible wails dictate he never does as he's told. Fathers of fathers, brothers of sons, deterred from being what they know what they can. All because heart refuses to run. This creature hardly resembles a man. My logic is the absolute. His pity parties simply harm these chances at an apt repute: esteemed regard in place of mockery.

Mind leans into Heart's coping mechanism of self-pity, using it as a means to infantilize and dehumanize Heart. Heart is blamed for the way those external to the self see them, for their inaction, and for not taking decisive action to end it all. Mind also reinforces itself as an authority through judicial wording. The relations of father and son also echo the root of the heart/mind dichotomy as being based in Christian philosophy, where it's used to reflect and define the trinity with the individual psyche.

I can't claim that I enjoy this, covering for a tortured boy that's slowly tired of all his toys. His wiles and woes ring like white noise. And I know that it's hard to see my rhyme behind the entropy, but if he'd just once humor me, he'd see we need to live life logically. See how the Heart plays profound (See how he lies) But the depth is insincere a pathetic, thin veneer.

Mind continues condemning Heart, blaming it for the self's state of inaction and arguing for Mind's own necessity as a part of the self.

The Mind Electric is punctured with a new tone though, and the Soul Eclectic begins—establishing Soul, a third figure, claiming authority over both Heart and Mind. Heart is represented in parentheses here, and Mind in brackets.

Yo. Call me the Soul or call me my name. Oh, label me whatever you would like. Call me your host or call me insane if that will help you stay in line. (He's a damn madman) [He's a depressed fool] (Is that the one you truly want to be?) [Abandon him and we could be free.] Warring all night, abhorrent and trite. You seem to forget you answer to me. Fathers of fathers, I know that I'm vile. Let's see how long it takes to murder me. Neither is wrong, yet neither is right. Condemn him to the infirmary. You must be so arrogant to think that either of you can control the Soul so wholly, when to be the whole you can't hold solely.

Soul is frenetic, unleashed—exactly what should fit what both Heart and Mind have seemed to idealize. But seeing him, they recoil; Soul is ravenous for power, for action, for control, for freedom all at once and is exactly what Heart & Mind see as an obstacle to each of their aims. Soul, for his part, holds just as much disdain for them: he dares them to kill him, high on the sensation of his freedom and believing it unstoppable. Soul's challenge is the direct opposite of Heart's earlier challenge to Mind.

Scattering sparks of thought energy deliver me and carry me away. Here in my kingdom I am your lord I order you to cower and præy. 'Cos I'm not nearly kind enough to leave you parasites inside me Stumbling loosely down this path in hopes the other's struck by lightning.

Soul continues to establish his authority, legitimizing the claim to power by trying to set the self as his kingdom. There could be a potential double meaning here in lightning; Mind and Heart could be just as eager for each other to be struck with inspiration as they would be for them to be struck from existence.

([I. Am. Me.]) See how the serfs work the ground. ([See how they fall]) And they give it all they've got. And they give it all they've got. And they give it all they've got 'til they're down. ([HA HA HA HA HA HA])

For a moment, united against Soul, Heart & Mind are united; the source of that unity distracts them from noticing it at the same time though, and they soon split again:

(See how he laughs at you) [Seethe as he snarls at you] (He will never understand) [Watch him struggle just to stand] (A cold and bitter stance) [The weaker half of man] (What a calculated, degradated hand) [Watch him beg and bargain, time and time again.] See how they fight all day. The other half just won't hear what's had to say. It's just the game they play here in this labyrinth maze. Screams with no sense for why. One more day and one more night One more black and one more white One more chance is all you've left to turn the tides. Tridential regicide I won't hesitate to kill my Heart and Mind. I will abdicate these deviants sat inside. I'll take you down in tandem when this rope is tied.

Split again, Heart and Mind squabble by attributing traits of Soul to each other while Soul makes an ultimatum: One more day and One more night to live and find or create a reason to, or Soul in his decisive fashion will follow through on what Mind could only threaten with.

What follows is The Bidding; Mind's lines in brackets [], Heart's in parentheses (), and Soul in curly brackets {}. After Heart and Mind continue arguing while Soul's deadline approaches, a shift comes with Heart & Mind overlapping:

[You claim to relish entropy but I see] (Stuck, deteriorating helplessly, endlessly) [The order which you beg to hold you down to the ground] (The 'Ruler' of our Soul, left never crowned, forever bound.) ([Your [silence] (violence) deafens more than any sound]) {Oh my god. Holy shit. We were there, that was it. Did you see, harmony, if only temporarily? The halves I reviled An attempt to concile. One more time, go again. No, this can't be the end. It was mean. It was vile. Like a freak. Like a child. But for once, Heart and Mind had finally combined. I believe. I concede. You can finally enweave. If not for you or for him then please do it for me. 'Cos I don't know how much more I can take. This creeping, seeping, sickly, sweeping, heinous [heartache] (headache.) So please, won't you just attempt to be free. 'Cos I think I can finally be me.

Heart & Mind's moment of unity against Soul, and awareness of it, come with the realization that the structure of authority needs to be overturned to exist in unity; the Soul can't act without reason and emotion, and neither of them can exist while subjugated by Soul.

Two Wuv follows, solidifying the unity of the self:

Brothers, friends and family, I hope you understand that the person you see is a dark, divided man, but the fact is that is just who I am, and I can't keep selling this facade when I know that it's a scam. Father, Saint and Mary, I hope you understand, but your sermons are fucked, and it's time to take a stand 'cos I'm sick of hearing fears and demands. Can you tell me the point in preaching if I'm already damned?

The self has reconciled the parts, and accepted the unity; telling friends and family members about it, and about the euphoria found in that truth.

That unity isn't tolerated by the spiritual authority, and a part of the realization of the self is to recognize that that unity and continued existence stands despite the wrongful preaching of those spiritual authorities. The self has heard their sermons plenty, but has overcome them through realization of their own psychospiritual unity; their existence itself disproves the claims made in the preaching, and the only thing these spiritual authorities could want is to kill the united self either through forcing the appearance of conformity, or making them kill themselves literally and directly.

To anyone who knows me, I'm sure I sound absurd, but I'm an egoistic queer under any definition of the word, but I think, for the first time in my life that these oddities that bonded me aren't worth the fucking strife. So call me sick or crazy if that's what you'd prefer, but that rotten melody is one I've already heard and you can stick that shit where it can't be harmonized. I refuse to be the person that my parents eulogize.

The self is triumphant: existence continues, with a new sense of pride in unity, their own identity found and forged in defiance of the external disparagement.

Altogether, Chonny has threaded these songs into something entirely new: a saga of self in multitude, the currents of neurodivergence, queerness and spirituality coming together in a surging portrait of internal & external dialogue. The songs not mentioned all have just as many layers to look into, and these have only been chosen for being particularly relevant to the narrative of Cacophony.

#my writing #the spirituality aspect isn’t especially relevant but it was there and neat trivia that heart/mind/soul goes back to there. you could also #look at this through an anarchist lens with the necessity to undo authority structures #also check out Chonny’s covers of The Moss and Hallelujah #there's more to say with other songs in Cacophony too but I ain't rewriting this around those rn. it's already 3000 words

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