Sacred Ground

Davey’s penchant for overly identifying with religious themes is well-documented in the body of lyrics he has produced to date. (Some examples that jump to mind: casting himself as the morning son/sun/star, i.e., Lucifer; themes of the fallen/falling [angels and also in love–‘fallen angels’ ((i.e., the damned)) and ‘falling in love’ are often conflated in his writing, just sayin’]; ongoing grappling with concepts of sin, salvation, faith, heaven, and hell.) I think he expresses his deepest insecurities and fears using religious language because he hasn’t yet resolved the conflict between what he thinks, what he believes, what he was taught, and what he knows about himself. Almost every album has a song about his disdain for religion, yet he spits Christianity metaphors faster than Switchfoot. Which begs the question: why is he still railing so hard against a religion he gave up on decades ago, if it isn’t an ongoing, unresolved conflict?

I could–and probably will–write whole posts just about his conceptualization of himself as an innate sinner, as a fallen angel, as the morningstar; about his whole dynamic where he writes himself and Jade as angels. Here, I want to focus on Javey Heaven.

Javey Heaven (noun):

The beautiful, golden, glowing space where the Javeys were happy together, where Davey could see the glimmer of salvation through their love, and knew without a doubt that this was true, this was forever, this was worth damnation. Obviously tainted by nostalgia as he looks back on sepia-toned absolution. Now, used as shorthand for their relationship and what was lost, what Jade cost them.

Heart Stops

I don’t even know how many times I listened to this song before I heard it. You know the line I mean. I was driving to work, listening to AFI, same as every other morning—and it just hit my ears in a different way than ever before. This a good 6 months after Burials came out. I nearly ran my car off the road. I rewound to listen again and again and again, making sure that Davey had said exactly what I thought he said. Then I pulled over and googled it.

Then I called Shan, foaming at the mouth, hyperventilating, etc. This smacks of comedic exaggeration but, actual reality, I was literally breathing so hard I was difficult to understand. After eleven years of devoutly shipping Javey—a ship that I believed had sunk back in 2006 when the first Decemberunderground promo pics appeared online—this was my moment of vindication. This was my “UFOs are real” moment. This was proof.

A lifetime of gay conspiracy theories yielded to gay conspiracy facts with the line “oh my pretty precious stone”.