Album: Submarine.
Year: 1988.
The second album by The Cat Heads, Submarine, wasn’t quite as great as their debut Hubba! – there were a couple of generic genre experiments into hard rock that didn’t quite work – but the overall sound (as produced by Camper Van Beethoven’s David Lowery) was fuller. Furthermore, Submarine featured the two best songs in their canon: “Alice on the Radio” and “Apologize.”
In fact, not only is “Apologize” the best Cat Heads song, it’s one of the best songs that 1980s indie rock produced, and I don’t know how many times I played it in a set with
Hüsker Dü’s “I Apologize” on KFSR, but let’s just say a whole hell of a lot. And no wonder: “Apologize” is a little-known indie anthem.
Over an absolutely roaring rhythm guitar, a lead guitar that never stops finding a new hook to play and her own distinctive drum beat, Melanie Clarin goes off on an Alan Korn-written rant:
Sorry for the things I’ve done
Sorry for the words I’ve spoken
I’m so tired of wasting all my time
Saying everything is going to be all right
And I don’t want to apologize
Thought by now you’d realize that
Don’t believe in what you’re saying
Don’t believe in anything
I know it’s not funny anymore
And I know that I’ve made that mistake once before
And I don’t want to apologize
I don’t want to apologize
And I don’t want apologize
I don’t want to apologize
All of this has just come out in a rush, like she’s been saving it up for years and years and now, finally it’s her time to say to to her lover or friend or parent or whomever is at the other end of this. On paper, “Apologize” might read as arrogant, but as sung by Clarin, it’s anything but. It’s clear that she’s at the end of her rope.
The dreams that can’t come true
Still are haunting you
You believe in every single lie
I’d tell you that I’m sorry, but never mind
Cos I don’t want to apologize
I don’t want to apologize
And I don’t want to apologize
I don’t want to apologize
In the end, with guitar after guitar after chiming in support, it’s clear that her refusal to apologize comes from a place of acceptance, because she knows that it wouldn’t do any good anyways. It’s harrowing, because you get the impression that the song could break apart at any second if it wasn’t so damn sure it was in the right.
In the horrible summer of 1988, the strength of “Apologize” was one of the things that I needed, but not because it was one of those songs that I could cry sing along with, but rather the because of strength I gained by singing along with “I don’t want to apologiiiiiiiiize” at the top of my lungs.
Fan-made video for “Apologize”
“Apologize” performed live in Oregon, 1989