Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Patrick Stolley at Futureappletree Too
William Beckett makes women seem twice as wily as they might actually be. Obviously, none of them are the same, so lumping them all together into one big knot of wiliness doesn't really make sense, but they do seem to compare notes, don't they? They all know the tricks of the gender - all of those ways to be strategic in their beguiling ways. Much of it turns out to be dirty poker - all a part of a master plan to compromise a sturdy heart or brain - but by the time any of it could be pointed out, they're on to their next victim, or subject.
It's a bit of what Beckett, the former front man for Chicago emo band The Academy Is…, would have you believe about the ladies. He insists, in his songs, that there are ulterior motives to most of the movements and acts that women make. They should be watched with a set of wary eyes. You're actually much better off if you can enlist the help of a friend's set of wary eyes as well. They're sneaky enough that one man's pair isn't even close to good enough. These eyes should be trained on the things that those women do with their hands and with the curls of their lips. Their back rubs and scratches should be considered skeptically. The words should be seen just as much as they should be heard, analyzed the way a detective would because one false move or a guard being down could result in all of a guy's records being stolen right out from beneath him and suddenly he's hearing about how she's been with all of his friends - and not just out for pizza and a Coke.
These are all things that most guys should already know, but when they think a lovely lady is lovely enough, they let everything slide. Beckett sounds like he's let everything slide a few times, knowing that he's susceptible to being played. Women are drummers, to him. They beat and they beat and they've got impeccable rhythm. Lately, Beckett has been going mild on the babes. The songs on this session are lighter on their touch, in their approach of the subject. It could be some bliss glossing over those eyes. He's here, singing about the delightful clicking of young hearts in unison.
*Essay originally published June, 2012
William Beckett Official Site