“Caryatid Easy” by Son Volt: Desiring the Remote and Immutable

The first time I heard “Caryatid Easy,” by Son Volt, was in mid-May of 1997, not long after the album, Straightaways (on which it was the first track), was released.  WXRT (their tagline was, and still is, “Chicago’s Finest Rock”) was on the dial in my pickup, the windows were down, and it was one of those storied mid-May, Midwest afternoons.  Specializing in the unusual, and the unusually good, XRT could always be counted on to deliver great music.  They came through in a big way with “Caryatid Easy,” which made its way into the cab of my truck that afternoon, and directly imprinted itself onto my cerebral cortex, where it’s remained to this day.

Why am I writing about a song that’s over twenty-five years old with its best airplay days (and best reviews) long behind it?  Aside from the fact that it remains surprisingly obscure, and that I relish the opportunity to introduce it to those RGG audience members to whom it may be unfamiliar, this song (best described as alt rock, and to a lesser degree, maybe alt country rock), as I’ve mentioned, resonates profoundly with me, and has burned itself into my head in a way few other contemporary-ish rock numbers have.  So what gives?  Among all the great rock I’ve had the privilege of listening to over the past quarter-century, what makes “Caryatid Easy” by Son Volt such a standout?

Let me start with the artist.  By the time Straightaways (and “Caryatid Easy”) was released in April of 1997, I was already a Son Volt fan.  Their debut album, Trace, released a couple of years before Straightaways, featured a number of critically acclaimed singles which I happened to really love.  I was also specifically an established Jay Farrar fan by 1997.  The Son Volt front man not only impressed me with his work on Trace, but he’d seriously caught my attention back in his Uncle Tupelo days with his songwriting skills – the man, as you’ll soon see, is an unparalleled lyricist – and his mesmerizing vocals, which, to me, have always managed to sound simultaneously impassioned and detached.  So yeah, there was already some Jay Farrar and Son Volt bias happening for me when I first leaned into “Caryatid Easy” on that sunny May day in ’97.

But my bias also extended beyond Jay Farrar and Son Volt’s extant skill set and resultant oeuvre.  I’ve been a collector of the fine and decorative arts for a long time, and I’ve always been an art history buff (you really should be if you’re going to be collecting good stuff).  These particular predilections landed me, quite literally, at the feet of the caryatids (at least some caryatids).  You’ll see some links here, which you can follow for the dollar caryatid tour, but I’ll dial you into the caryatid story right here with just a few sentences.  What are they?  In architecture and in the decorative arts, caryatids are sculpted and/or carved female figures used as supports (instead of columns) for an entablature.  In short, they’re made to be classically and unattainably beautiful while they eternally support heavy structures on the tops of their imperious heads.  As the most salient example of a caryatid or caryatids that I could imagine, I included, as the featured image of this piece (photo credit: YLea Designs), the Caryatids of the Erechtheion, in Athens, Greece.*  Caryatids have existed in architecture and in the fine and decorative arts for millenia.  The massive, carved stone Caryatids of the Erechtheion are nearly 2,500 years old, and their impassive, awesome beauty and proportions have influenced subsequent generations of artists, architects, and furniture makers.  My longtime appreciation of the regality and imposing – even frightening – presence of these figures led me to the purchase of a period French Empire center table featuring three flawlessly beautiful bronze doré caryatids.  You’ll see a pic below.  So, caryatids are a thing for me, and they were a thing for me back in 1997.  And the mention of the word “caryatid” in a contemporary alt rock song really got my attention.

(*Note: The featured image actually depicts replicas of the original Caryatids of the Erechtheion.  Five of the originals are in the Acropolis Museum in Athens, and one is in the British Museum.)

The history of the Caryatids of Erechtheion, and of caryatids in general, is, of course, fascinating.  But for the purposes of this discussion of Son Volt’s “Caryatid Easy,” the thing to bear in mind is the immutable, ageless power and impassivity of these great stone structures, and their various subsequent derivatives and representations.  Through their immutable permanence, the stone Caryatids of the ancient Greeks have transcended time and change.  Their hewn, Pentelic marble beauty and endless, unwavering dedication to their timeless task, executed with an almost terrifying, implacable remoteness, is the hallmark of this discussion.  The Caryatids of the Erechtheion have defied the onslaught of millenia, and each inscrutable, stony countenance has witnessed, with frightening detachment, the inconsequential machinations of the human race over the course of a million and one sunrises and a million and one sunsets.  Civilizations have toiled and loved, risen and fallen, lived and died, in the soulless shadow of the Caryatids. 

And here we are.  In “Caryatid Easy,” Jay Farrar invokes the mythical, beautiful, transcendentally fearsome aspect of the Caryatids in his lyrical admonition of an unnamed paramour.  This startling premise alone is enough to imbue the song with instant gravitas.  How could it not?  What kind of woman must the object of Farrar’s desire be?  What does she do to him that elicits this comparison?  Well, Jay Farrar lays his answers out, and he does so with some of the most darkly beautiful poetry I’ve ever found in a rock and roll song.  His lyrics, grimly impassioned, and rife with chiseled, obsidian metaphor and foreboding allusion, tell an acutely visceral tale of his woman’s evanescent passion and his own unrequited love.  Jay Farrar’s words indict him: his thoughts and actions are not his own – he lives and breathes in thrall to the undeniable, emanating power of his own unflinching caryatid.

But hey, this is a rock and roll song.  Those evocative, crepuscular lyrics are delivered in one of alt rock’s most captivating voices, with Dave Boquist’s and Farrar’s own masterful guitar work serving as their beautiful, nearly lilting, powerfully driving counterpoint.  Simply put, “Caryatid Easy” rocks.  This is one astounding, unforgettable 1990s alternative rock classic.  Immediately below are Jay Farrar and Son Volt’s copyrighted lyrics to “Caryatid Easy,” and below that is a YouTube Music link for you to click to listen to the song.  When you’re all done reading the lyrics and listening to this gem, tell me if my take is wrong.

Here you go…