West Coast by The Neighbourhood Lyrics Meaning – Unraveling the Californian Dream
Lyrics
Old Wild West land
Nosebleeds, palms trees, and tumble weeds rustling
Outside they say it’s happy here but it’s depressing
To many pretty face catching my attention
So I look at them, remind myself in the smudged glass
That pretty isn’t everything, you punk ass
Always hard to see past the surface
When it looks so perfect
But her eyes will disguise dirt on purpose
You listening?
I grew up here under the sun
In grade school I was the odd one out of the bunch
And I don’t mean I was the kid to eat bugs for lunch
I was the one who wasn’t coming from where their coming from
I speak poetically and never pride my ignorance
But this California shit is rigorous
They say it’s happy here, happiness is figurative
I’m happy cause of me doesn’t matter where I’m living
If the sun was god I’d be covered in faith
If the ocean was the devil I’d be covered in hate
I’m so west coast, it’s a god damn shame (x2)
I’m waking up underneath sheets, naked, still sweating
Slept in late so everybody else is ready
My friend called up he said “Hurry up, Buddy, it’s almost sun down already”.
So I hopped up
I went and washed up
I ate some pasta then I gave my mom hugs
Then I thought uh it’s gonna be a pretty nice night
But pretty isn’t everything right?
Golden state mind
I’m taking my time
Plain white shirt and a skinny black tie
My top let down when I get picked up
P.C.H so California
Maybe they were right
Happiness is a warm gun
But before you shoot please warn us
Life is too fun
California will you marry me?
Let god be the sun
And then the ocean they shall bury me
If the sun was god I’d be covered in faith
If the ocean was the devil I’d be covered in hate
I’m so west coast it’s a god damn shame (x4)
Deep in the heart of The Neighbourhood’s music lies ‘West Coast,’ a track that melds the quintessential sun-soaked ethos with an undercurrent of existential longing. The Neighbourhood, known for their moody aesthetics, weave together a narrative that paints a picture of California not as the flawless paradise it is often imagined to be, but as a land of contrast, draped in beauty and subtle despair.
On the surface, ‘West Coast’ may revel in the stereotypical Californian vibe—think palm trees and the Pacific Coast Highway. However, dive deeper into the lyrics, and you’ll uncover a thoughtful examination of what it means to forge an identity amidst the golden mirage of the coast. The Neighbourhood doesn’t just create a soundscape; they offer a poetic glimpse into the introspective journey of the Californian youth.
The Allure of ‘Old Wild West land’: More Than Just Sunshine
The song’s opening lines immediately plunge listeners into the nostalgia of the ‘Old Wild West land’—a clever nod to California’s frontier past. But here, ‘West Coast’ uses this imagery not to invoke the excitement of discovery, but to spotlight the harsh and unrelenting standards of beauty and success that define contemporary California.
While palm trees and lush landscapes may dominate the postcards, ‘West Coast’ punctuates this sunny veneer with ‘nosebleeds’ and ‘tumbleweeds rustling,’ reminding us that the glitzy façade often eclipses the state’s rugged and challenging nature. True to form, The Neighbourhood harnesses the juxtaposition to craft a narrative that’s complex and unnervingly authentic.
Diving Deep: The Hidden Meaning Behind The Melancholy
Despite the apparent celebration of the state, ‘West Coast’s recurring line ‘Outside they say it’s happy here but it’s depressing’ offers a stark commentary on the duality of Californian life. For every ostensibly happy exterior, there’s an untold story of struggle and disillusionment—a theme that resonates with those who have felt the pressures of maintaining appearances in the face of inner turmoil.
By confessing ‘Happiness is figurative,’ the song conveys a profound truth about the search for contentment. It’s not the external landscapes, but one’s internal state—’I’m happy cause of me’—that determines true happiness, a powerful rebuttal to the pleasure-driven culture often associated with the West Coast.
Fame, Faith, and the Coastal Confessional
When dissecting the track’s most profound lines, ‘If the sun was god I’d be covered in faith / If the ocean was the devil I’d be covered in hate,’ we start to perceive The Neighbourhood’s intricate relationship with nature and elements of divinity and damnation. The sun, a universal symbol of life and vitality, becomes a beacon of belief, while the ocean’s depths mirror the abyss of enmity.
The metaphorical interplay suggests a constant oscillation between enlightenment and darkness, hope and despair, intrinsic to the experience of life on the West Coast. It’s about the equilibrium between embracing the splendor that comes with living under the Californian sun while recognizing the shadows that lurk beneath the waves.
The Day in the Life: An Unapologetic Californian Identity
Amidst the reflective poetry, ‘West Coast’ takes us through a typical day that reveals the mundane, yet intimate aspects of the singer’s existence. From waking up ‘underneath sheets, naked, still sweating’ to the domestic simplicity of ‘ate some pasta then I gave my mom hugs,’ the song humanizes the often-mythologized lifestyle of the region.
These glimpses into the day-to-day, coupled with the sartorial snapshot—’Plain white shirt and a skinny black tie’—assemble an image of someone who is distinctly Californian, without being ostentatious. It’s here where ‘West Coast’ positions its protagonist: grounded in the ordinary and real despite being steeped in the land traditionally celebrated for the extraordinary.
A Matrimony with the Land: Unforgettably Bold Lines
The deliberate repetition of ‘I’m so west coast it’s a goddamn shame’ becomes more than an anthem—it is a confessional statement that lays bare the unshakable connection between identity and place. The song culminates in a quasi-spiritual commitment: ‘California will you marry me? Let god be the sun / And then the ocean they shall bury me,’ encapsulating the idea of California as not just a locale, but as a partner, a keeper of one’s soul.
In these lines, we touch upon the most intimate aspects of belonging. Where the clause ‘it’s a goddamn shame’ can be read as a playful critique of how profoundly one’s self can be intertwined with their geography—indicating a sort of ‘ensnarement’ despite recognition of its flaws. This marriage to the land, whether celebratory or indicting, leaves a lingering impression, much like the state itself.
