My Top 100, No. 33: "That Crown Don't Make You a Prince" by Murder by Death

"That Crown Don't Make You a Prince" is the best song off one of my favorite albums, Murder By Death's Who Will Survive, and What Will Be Left of Them?

This album, whose name is so odiously long I will not repeat it here, is one of two cello-heavy concept albums from 2003 that would make my list of top 10 favorite albums of all time, were I to create such a list.

One of them, Cursive's The Ugly Organ, will come up soon, believe you me.

The Murder By Death album is a western, in which Satan comes to town and is shot in a barfight, then takes out his revenge before a final showdown with the heroic gunslinger. It's got lines like "I'll leave a trail of fire across this desert / Just to see the desperation in your eyes" and "Buckshot is my bread / And I'll drink whiskey instead of water / 'Cause I can't stand / To be sober in this place" and every single goddamn line of "The Devil in Mexico." And now I'm regretting not putting more of this album on the list.

"That Crown Don't Make You a Prince" is not the lyrical tour de force of most of the rest of the album, but it's the only song whose time signature is going to eat you.

I like rock songs that aren't in 4/4, which is fine, but it's normal. "That Crown Don't Make You a Prince" is in a 3/4 that feels like it's being rowed, like a Carthaginian trireme, a huge wooden fucking thing that destroys things by running them over and breaking them, using the power of only a couple dozen guys with oars. It's muscular, it's menacing, it's out to get you. It won't kill you in your sleep--it'll wake you up first and make you run a little.

How is this managed? Well, first of all, having the cello featured so prominently does literally give off the impression of the song being rowed. There's the juxtaposition of the eighth note runs on guitar and the eighth note triples on cello with the longer, drawn out vocal notes. 

But the real kicker to this song is how the pickup note into the verses really feels like a crow hop into a throw from the outfield or a jab to set up a power punch. It's the plant foot that provides stability before the blow the provides the power. This is a terrifying, thermonuclear song that derives its strength from the time signature that rocks it back and forth and into whatever it winds up hitting and obliterating. 

It sounds like Satan having a gunfight, which is what the whole album's about.