"goodbye horses" || q. lazzarus || 1991

Umm, so let's talk about obscurity. This song is pretty much the definition thereof.

No one seems to know anything about Q. Lazzarus. The only tidbit of information about her that repeatedly seems to turn up on random websites states that she was, at some point, a cab driver in NYC. I've even tried to contact Ms. Lazzarus through this MySpace profile, which purports to be run by the husky-voiced heroine herself, but to date I've gotten no response.

I'm calling BS: I think she's not real.

Think about it: How could you create the most obscure song of all time? Simple. Invent a fake singer. Milli Vanilli had the right idea, but I think at the last minute Frank Farian decided to throw two German models into the spotlight. Big mistake, Frank; the folks behind Q. Lazzarus had the right idea: Invent a singer, invent a producer ("William J. Garvey"), and slide it into an iconic scene in an iconic film that will no doubt become both a cult and pop favorite. Then take a picture of some random staffer around the office (the Pepsi machine restocking chick, the head of corporate development, and the front-desk receptionist are all good suggestions) wearing a goofy cowboy hat, and throw it on the cover of the 12". Boom! Instant club / cult / college radio sensation, and lots of annoyed folks on the Internet 15 years later, looking for info about your non-existent, illusory singer.

The song itself is, naturally, beautiful. Lazzarus has an encapsulating, velvet voice, and the subject matter itself is quite interesting. The singer of the song is kissing goodbye to reality (which, in some mythology, was represented by horses). The singer has obviously been through something very tragic, and the lyrics indicate that she doesn't see things getting better anytime soon. So rather than trudge on with life and continue to deal with pain, she says, "Screw this, I'm outta here." Could it be a nod to suicide? Maybe, but I don't think so. I think it's about creating a new reality when the one in which you exist ceases to please you.

I hope I'm wrong. I hope Ms. Lazzarus does indeed exist, and I hope that this blog entry alone will inspire her to record more music (or at least shoot me an e-mail). But hey, even if I'm right, wouldn't that be awesome if I uncovered some massive musical sham? Gosh, even if it is a sham, kudos to the Q. Lazzarus team for pulling this off.

Listen to it here.