The Gin Blossoms’ “Hey Jealousy” is a bona fide have-a-kick-ass-summer jam. It’s four minutes of late nights, joy rides, and low-speed police chases. The song’s protagonist is a charming wreck. He’s in no shape for driving with no place to go, looking for permission to reminisce and reconcile with an old flame. Threads of regret are sewn throughout, as is a glimmering optimism: “The past is gone but something might be found to take its place,” he declares to her immediately before reiterating the song’s title. He can’t change the past. There is hope in the future. First, he must crash on her futon.

Songs written in first-person rely on the vocalist’s delivery to portray the emotion of the lyrics; they become the “me” and “I” of the song. Whereas Neil Young or Chris Martin would milk the drama from a line like, “If I hadn’t blown the whole thing years ago, I might not be alone,” Gin Blossoms’ frontman Robin Wilson sings it with emotionless nonchalance—in the music video, his hands are appropriately/inappropriately in his jacket pocket at that moment in the tune. If the song’s author, the band’s original guitarist Doug Hopkins had sung the song, it certainly would have felt different.

Hopkins was the most hopeless brand of addict, consistently self-medicating in the face of depression. He penned “Hey Jealousy” and “Found Out About You”, but never was able to appreciate the spoils of his labor. Hopkins drank so often during recording sessions for the Gin Blossoms’ debut that he was unable to stand up in the studio. He was kicked out of the band before the record was released. There is no irony in the album title New Miserable Experience.

With Hopkins functioning as the protagonist, “Hey Jealousy” outlines a cause for intervention. Coming from the mouth of an alcoholic, the deprecating claims in the song—”If you don’t expect too much from me, you might not be let down”—sting with accuracy. Other lines become the simplistic slurrings of a friend who’s had one too many: “You were the best I’d ever had,” “You can trust me not to think,” and “All I really want is to be with you.” Even the song’s peppy chorus is recontextualized, its hopefulness shriveled into empty promise. Tomorrow we can drive around this town, but tonight he’s too drunk to even get behind the wheel. Maybe tomorrow he’ll quit drinking, too.

Through all the potential melancholy, “Hey Jealousy” is still a party. The guitars still jangle, the tambourine still shimmies. The solo is still totally bitchin’. Wilson’s delivery is emotionally detached from Hopkins’ afflictions, and the song benefits as a result. He sings its verses with a manufactured vulnerability that harnesses power as the chorus arrives. The melody hits its highest arc, the tonic chord of the key hits, and the lyrics turn a brighter corner. In Wilson’s voice, the protagonist’s irresponsibility is endearing, his promises convincing. It’s practically an anthem for enablers.

When New Miserable Experience sold 500,000 copies, the Gin Blossoms mailed Hopkins a well-deserved gold record. It reportedly hung on his wall for two weeks before he smashed it into shards on the floor. The past was gone, and Hopkins never found something to take its place. He shot himself in the head nine days later. Rock ‘n’ roll tragedies are seldom as unromantic. Those that are so unfortunate rarely have such a sunny soundtrack.

Watch: “Hey Jealousy” [at myspace.com]

Tags: Gin Blossoms, Hey Jealousy, New Miserable Experience, Doug Hopkins 

Read past installments of Lyrical Communique:

Handsome Family: “After We Shot the Grizzly” 

Emily Haines: “The Maid Needs a Maid”

Steely Dan: “Show Biz Kids”