INTRO — TYPICAL ME
In early March, I finally went to a Heated Rivalry rave. I have been to a rave, and this was not one of them. But I am not here to litigate club scene terminology, though I might be here to (kindly, gently) litigate the DJ’s selections.
They played both versions of “All the Things She Said” twice, the big Wolf Parade hit once, the Madonna song once, a cut or two from the score, and (to my late-night, relieved delight) “Rasputin” by Boney M. But they mostly played pop songs and videos — Taylor Swift, Carly Rae Jepsen, Rihanna, Chappell Roan — instead of fan edits and the show’s Feist, Wet Leg, French pop bangers, and more of Peter Peter’s iconic score. This was simply a missed opportunity as almost allllllllll the people in that room on that Friday night had seen the show at least once, if not multiple times. And I still firmly yet perhaps foolishly believe that when you have a bunch of drunk people in a room, a lot of them might actually enjoy hearing something different than what they always hear in such rooms.
I did have a good time. There were some strippers. Lots of screaming. A goth night in the small room. And since this show has me chasing my curiosity about so many things — fandom, Canada, what fan fiction has been up to since I was writing about Mulder and Krycek in the 1990s — and so much of the art of the Heated Rivalry comes from series creator Jacob Tierney’s understanding of needle drops and deep knowledge of music in general, and the hard work, I’m sure, of his music supervisor Scotty Taylor (who also secured the music for My Old Ass). So it was only a matter of time before I spent some energy following the music. It just took a disappointing non-rave in San Francisco* to motivate me to do so.
I process emotions through songs, getting hyperfixated on lyrics and listening to single tracks enough times that instrumental flourishes and sudden silences get written into my nervous system, my hipbones, my heart. I have been doing this, searching artists’ catalogs for weird new highs to ride ever since I learned about b-sides through Duran Duran and Peel Sessions through Pavement. I have gotten stuck on soundtracks before: Suburbia (1983), Kids, Jewel Thief (1967), Hedwig and the Angry Inch. But Tierney and Taylor’s work here harks back to the John Hughes teen movie era — songs fill every space they need to in Heated Rivalry, like a cross between supporting cast (coming in and dropping out, delivering with thoughtful precision) and production design (echoing emotions and plot points the same way visual elements talk to each other).
I will not be talking much about the score here — musicians and other smart people can do that. Diana and Anusha, the hosts of the Girls in the Crease “Everyone Deserves Sunshine” podcast, did a wonderful job of breaking it down, covering (among other things) the subtle evolution of its motifs: From “Heartbeat I” through “Heartbeat IV,” “Common Goal” to “Two Souls” to “One Soul,” the titles may not be subtle but the emotional movements are. The repetition and mirroring of the score’s themes is perfect for the way the songs — and so much else about this show — work.
But I am here for the songs. Not all of them. But a lot of them. (There are so many in these six episodes. Yes, there are only six episodes. Your friend who is always watching the show has seen those same episodes many, many times.) And yes, writing this is an excuse to reheat the series yet again, with a different intention. Positive reinforcement is important, and I am not ashamed.
Warning: This piece is for the already initiated or for music heads who care about deep cuts but not about spoilers. Because ahead be spoilers!
Now that the caveats are out of the way, in the words of hockey legend Shane Hollander: LET’S GO.
EPISODE 1: ROOKIES
SYNOPSIS: We meet two young hockey phenoms — Canada’s Shane Hollander and Russia’s Ilya Rozanov — as they prepare for the 2008 International Prospect Cup. Russia wins. Two and a half years pass, during which they see each other at the major league draft, where Ilya, the number-one pick, gets drafted by Boston and number-two Shane gets drafted by Montreal; they shoot a commercial together; they face off at an All-Star Game; their teams play each other; and Shane beats Ilya for Rookie of the Year. Oh, and there’s a lot of flirting, hookups, and poor communication.
SEALION
We get this Feist track — the first song we hear in its entirety in the episode, though a few leak through in snippets — as Shane waits nervously in his hotel room for Ilya, and Ilya makes his way there, encountering Yuna along the way. (I am always grateful that there’s no “I’m hoping to go down, too” joke in here — in retrospect, this was one of the first signals I received that this show would take the high road a lot.) This album, The Reminder, would have been slightly out of the zeitgeist by then — this scene takes place in 2010, and it came out three years earlier — but it was a big deal in the years following its release, garnering award nominations in 2008 and earning a deluxe edition release that same year.
Because I am that asshole, I have always preferred what I thought was her first album, Let It Die. There is an earlier album, Monarch (Lay Your Jewelled Head Down), that I have never heard because I’m not that big of a fan (perhaps not that big of an asshole, either!). But Feist is Canadian and a bigger deal there than she is in the US. And I heard and liked The Reminder enough when it was in the zeitgeist that, when it kicked in, I recognized “Sealion” right away. So, as a sonic hook, it certainly serves.
For this soundtrack, the song’s history is important — it’s a take on Nina Simone’s “See Line Woman,” released in 1964 as the B-side to “Mississippi Goddamn.” As explained in “Backlash Blues,” an examination of the correspondence between Simone and Langston Hughes: “Often spelled various ways, ‘Sea-Lion,’ ‘C-Line,’ and ‘She-Lyin’,’ the most likely understanding appears to be that the song speaks of prostitutes who greet sailors as they arrive in port. The women’s different colored dresses immediately communicated what services they were willing to provide. As such, the original title (and perhaps best?) might be ‘Sea-Line Woman’ to denote where these women worked (along the Sea line).”
And here we see Shane trying on different outfits and attitudes as he waits for his first-ever assignation with a man. Jacket and tie? TV on or off? Lights off or on? Having read the books, I have no doubt that Ilya changed at least one clothing item once or twice before heading out, but probably didn’t feel particularly bad about any of it. In this nascent power dynamic, no one is yet sure what they are dressing for.
UNE JOURNÉE PARFAITE
The next song, by Dumas, was new to me, but its strummy intro could come seamlessly after the Feist song on a mix or playlist, the kind you’d make for a crush. It has become one of my favorites, perhaps because I made a lot of mixes for crushes back in the day. The “perfect day” in question is three months long and full of the hopeful longing that Heated Rivalry has elevated to an art: Shane has gotten with his first man, Rolex is in, tigers and ducks can be friends (as can snakes and babies), and his first professional hockey season is about to start; Ilya, on the other hand, thinks Shane is perfect, and not necessarily in a good way, insulting him through the TV screen as he watches Shane be interviewed in French. I love how this scene sets Ilya up as a cartoon villain, only to sweep that portrayal away seconds later with the phone call with his brother.
* Fuck San Francisco!
