Sucker – Madeline Kenney
Sucker – Madeline Kenney
31 July 2020 - from Sucker’s Lunch
The instruments arrive in groups, like pairs of friends arriving at your gathering. They welcome home a friend that’s spent time away chasing a dream or making something of themselves. First the acoustic guitar sets up the soft rock setting alongside a shaker. Bass, piano and drums accelerate the arrival into what feels like a quaint town on the foothills of a mountain range. The lead guitar’s melody sounds like the listener is chasing the sun before it sets over the hills. All this introduces the longing vocals of Madeline Kenney with background vocals shadowing her passage.
The sun sets behind the hills and on the singer’s hopes in this record. Kenney alludes to failure in the face of doubt. She recalls sensing people feeling bitter about her getting away, about knowing something they don’t, now pointing the finger and laughing. The listener can sense that Kenney tried her best to make things work despite so many doubting her efforts. It’s in the calling of her voice in the second verse: “They say the course is run…That puts me out of work/ And they’re just hungover.” The guitar’s melody sings back to her, like the winds and calls of the town surrounding her. They attempt to offer comfort in her return home, but that’s what brings her so much angst.
Kenney’s helplessness is most apparent in the chorus: “But when it’s all said and done/ I want my supper.” At the end of her journey, she lets herself fall back into the same routines that existed before she began her escape. Even a cup of coffee with her lunch, the strongest symbol of consolation in this track, is a symbol of her acquiescence: “Pour the cream into my coffee/ I’m the sucker.” The rhythm section does its best to color the sky with shades of orange and lavender. They fall away as Kenney enters the next verse. She recalls “when life was fun” and she was out doing something meaningful. Now she’s back in the life she thought she outgrew in the pick-up trucks they pass along old roads.
The instruments work hard to console Kenney and the listener. As we reach another chorus, one can hear a strings and winds section rumbling to inspire the singer. And yet, the disappointment feels too heavy. “I’ll make another,” she tells herself over the production among the trees and ridges. “Pour my seventh cup of coffee/ I’m the sucker.” It’s a strange feeling to face the people that saw you leave for better things. While they may offer comfort and remind you that a return home is no defeat, it’s inconsolable for the heartache from those familiar scenes. Even in an effort to make you feel welcome, they are reminders of ending up a sucker. “Go on, hang without me,” Kenney calls to those surrounding her. We’ll have another cup of coffee for now.