Foreign 2 by King Krule Lyrics Meaning – Decoding the Lyrical Labyrinth of Alienation and Identity
Lyrics
This storm would not allow it
As you observe fools out of place
The time is spun around it
Well I know who calls when you’re bare
Stripped from the moon
Well I stare sometimes and it tears away
With your soul
You may be foreign here
But I was foreign there
Well suffering here is someone’s fear
You may be foreign here
But I was foreign there
We’re suffering here
Isolated heritage
This part was never relative
I watched the way you ran away
Exhibiting my pride
Now watch me burn alive
As you’re forced to cry
All I know that’s inside
See I was torn by a scorned hand
And now they watch me crawl
See I was warned by a young man
And now I’ve lost it all
Isolated heritage
This part was never relative
I watched the way you ran away
Exhibiting my pride
Isolated heritage
This part was never relative
I watched the way you ran away
Exhibiting my pride
King Krule, otherwise known as Archy Marshall, has consistently impressed the music world with his distinctly ethereal and melancholic songs. ‘Foreign 2,’ an enigmatic track from his critically acclaimed album ‘6 Feet Beneath the Moon,’ is no exception. But, beneath the haunting melodies and Marshall’s raspy vocals lies a profound exploration of alienation, identity, and the search for belonging.
The song’s obscure lyrics, rich with metaphor and poignancy, invite deep introspection. They spark an inward journey through the shades of emotional dislocation and the universal quest for a sense of place. Through King Krule’s lens, we aim to unravel the esoteric message of ‘Foreign 2,’ as we analyze its narrative of estrangement and the raw human experience of feeling out of sync with one’s surroundings.
A Soundscape of Solitude: The Aural Ambiance of ‘Foreign 2’
The atmosphere King Krule creates in ‘Foreign 2’ is immediately striking—a sonic environment that feels both distant and intimate. The instrumental arrangement encapsulates the essence of the song’s theme: the perpetual outsider looking in. As the brooding guitar meets the subdued percussion, a melancholic mood blankets the listener. This instrumental narrative constructs an auditory mirror of the lyrical discourse, with every chord strum and each beat echoing an aspect of the protagonist’s internal world.
Marshall’s almost spoken-word delivery adds a layer of weariness and introspection to the track. His voice, a resonating force, connects the tangible elements of the music with the abstract feelings of dislocation and yearning conveyed in the words. The desolation in his tone mirrors the sentiment of being ‘foreign’—not just in the literal sense of geography but in the existential realm of belonging.
The Heartbeat of Alienation: Unpacking ‘Foreign 2’s’ Emotional Core
At the core of ‘Foreign 2’ is a profound sensation of alienation. The chorus, ‘You may be foreign here, but I was foreign there’, suggests an interpersonal dialogue—perhaps an argument or consolation—where someone’s feeling of otherness is not unique to them but a shared human condition. It implies a solidarity in estrangement, an acknowledgement that what feels like personal suffering is, in fact, a collective experience. Through this shared adversity, King Krule creates not only sympathy but empathy, making a subtle statement on the interconnectedness of our lives.
The line ‘Well suffering here is someone’s fear’ continues the exploration of universal suffering, suggesting each individual’s pain, though personal, is innately understood by others. This fear of suffering, of being an outsider, is a cyclical theme—our own anxieties reflected in the eyes of the people we meet. ‘Foreign 2,’ thus, speaks not merely of geographical estrangement but of an existential quest for connection amidst the universal predicament of alienation.
The Visceral Imagery of Loss and Desperation
King Krule’s lyrical journey includes biting visuals that tug on the themes of loss and desperation. ‘Now watch me burn alive / As you’re forced to cry’ hints at an image of self-destruction witnessed by an onlooker, a symbol of the shared pain between individuals. This strong visual encapsulates the essence of being helpless in preventing one’s own downfall while evoking empathy in others. The intertwining of suffering is almost tangible, as the personal tragedy is framed within a communal space, inflicting collective distress.
The blunt lyrics serve as a confrontation with the harshness of reality, where phrases like ‘I was torn by a scorned hand’ convey the rawness of being damaged by someone’s bitter actions. These lines implore the listener to dissect themes of betrayal and the subsequent rebirth that follows such devastation. Marshall’s imagery paints an intimate portrayal of personal anguish, touching upon the deeply embedded scars one carries through life’s traumatic events.
The Inescapable Grip of Isolated Heritage
One can’t ignore the pictorial repetition of ‘isolated heritage’, which operates as an anchor throughout the song. King Krule’s notion of heritage being isolated points to an inheritance of solitude, a lineage marked by the loneliness that comes to define the subject. This notion could represent a bittersweet pride in one’s unique identity amid the realization that this very uniqueness distances the individual from the crowd.
The repeated assertion ‘This part was never relative’ seems to lament the disconnect between the person’s past and present, between their ingrained sense of self and their current existential reality. It speaks to the melancholy of finding oneself at odds with a world that appears to have no space for their heritage, for their core being. It represents a struggle that transcends time and location, touching upon a deeper, more profound sense of foreignness that originates from within.
Memorable Lines: ‘I Stare Sometimes and It Tears Away’
The poignancy in King Krule’s writing shines brightest in lines like ‘Well I stare sometimes and it tears away / With your soul’. These words illuminate the involuntary act of introspection and the erosion that comes with it. To ‘stare’ is to succumb to oneself, to willingly confront the abyss within, knowing full well it might strip away pieces of the soul. Marshall captures the fragile nature of the inner self as it contends with revelations and realities too heavy to bear.
This stark visual of erosion further expounds on the ceaseless nature of self-reflection and its impact on one’s identity. It encapsulates the essence of ‘Foreign 2’—the paradox of seeking and fearing the truths within us that can irrevocably alter who we are. A line etched in the memory of the listener, it articulates the internal struggle that accompanies deep contemplation and the relentless search for meaning amid the emotional detritus of introspection.
