Well, I Will: A Careful Defense of Matchbox Twenty's "Push"
I've really wanted to do this for a while, but I don't know if I've ever been good enough, I'm a little bit rusty.
Setting the Scene
It is 1996 and grunge is mostly dead. Its replacement is post-grunge, an amalgamation of yarling a la Vedder and the heavily neutered distortion one might associate with indie rock. In some ways it feels like a genre made for radio stations, for the kind of disengaged listening that often accompanies interminable traffic, and the current critical consensus on post-grunge reflects this brutally. Almost every critic - really, everybody who lived through those years of slop - generally acknowledges that it was something of a wasteland. For every Weezer we got, we also got Creed, Alter Bridge and other acts now accepted as only ironically enjoyable.
One of these acts was Matchbox Twenty, initially very unfortunately stylized as Matchbox 20. On some rock radio stations, their biggest songs, mostly from their 1996 debut Yourself or Someone Like You (including “3AM”, “Real World”, “Back 2 Good”, and of course, “Push”) continue to be played into oblivion.
For most intensive purposes Matchbox Twenty is nothing remarkable, although their frontman Rob Thomas has made a sizable dent in the pop charts thanks to being the dramatic whine on the mega-monster-unbelievable-smash “Smooth”. They orbited around familiar themes for their debut, and plenty of its songs convey a struggle whose severity is often betrayed by its instrumental blandness. Rob Thomas’ voice is often caricatured for its invented intensity but in spite of its overwhelming presence a sizable chunk of this album feels tame.
The exceptions, of course, are “Push” and one or two other unpolished diamonds in the rough. But “Push” is most interesting to discuss because in addition to enjoying a renaissance after being featured in Greta Gerwig’s seminal/capitalist-worshipping Barbie, it is, in my view, one of the best post-grunge songs ever written. I understand that is a bold claim for what many consider to be just another forgettable hit in a slew of late 90s post-grunge.
Let me state my case.
Lyrics
Does ‘Push’ advocate for domestic violence, as feminist groups have apparently stated? My answer is no, though a surface reading of “Push” centering around its chorus seems to suggest so. When the focal point of your song is “I wanna push you around”, it is indeed very difficult to think anything else. The band has obviously denied this - Rob Thomas has gone so far to say that the controversy around its sexist tendencies was completely manufactured - and I am inclined to agree with them. Its lyrics are so preposterous that I am willing to go so far as to say - and I cannot believe I am saying it - that lyrically, “Push” is potent satire.
Every other word in the song does seem to support this. The faux vulnerability of its opening lines quickly spills over into an anger that is evinced by the gathering grit in the delivery of the comically bare line “I’m a little bit angry”. Here the theatrics that normally count against Rob’s voice here serve nicely to illustrate the exaggerated nature of the ‘girlfriend’. The ‘boyfriend’ responds in kind with an overstatement of his own by threatening physical/emotional abuse and then completely diluting any real violence in that threat with the incredulous “I want to take you for granted” (a round of applause for announcing your intentions).
The subject of emotional incompatibility in a relationship is nebulous. It is often something that is felt rather than justified, which is why it makes perfect sense that “Push” is replete with cliches and psychological tropes, the only available language for articulating the pettiness and absurdity that the denouements of relationships often amount to.
In spite of its lyrical dexterity, “Push” is unfortunately still a post-grunge song. Does a muddling, stale instrumental characteristic of the genre serve as the background for these words? Again, my answer is no.
Instrumental
Most movements in music evolve in response to previous ones. Punk emerged partially as a grounded vilification of the celestial, psychedelic music which dominated the soundscapes of the late 60s, and post-punk subsequently reined in the brashness of punk in exchange for decorating an emotional center. Some parts of post-grunge, including the camp that Matchbox Twenty belongs to, continued that pattern of restraint. But unlike post-punk, post-grunge did not expand on the angst that grunge purveyed, or even attempt to advance it into more mature emotions. If anything, post-grunge felt like a regurgitation of the same unwieldy anger without any of grunge’s rawness.
What makes “Push” stand out, then, is that it lacks polish. It begins with four quite beautiful clean open chords, picked in a strumming pattern every musician knows (I remember thinking that they must have started recording the moment the guitarist plugged his guitar into his amp). As the vocal gathers intensity so too do the guitars. My favorite sound occurs somewhere before the line “well, this ain’t over”, where there is a singular distorted chord which then fades out over the rest of the pre-chorus. The chorus is surprisingly light and even airy, with the only real edge coming in with a flurry of droning overdriven minor chords under “I want to take you for granted”.
On the other hand, the bridge and final chorus are much more unrestrained. This is mirrored in the track’s groove, which finally begins to incorporate some color. My second favorite sound is the sextuplet fill right before the final chorus, where the volume is the loudest by far. This is the point in the song where I believe its irony is most prominent. The guitars continue to play those open chords, the drumming is loose and scattered, and best of all, a disembodied voice yells “yeah, we just might feel good” as Rob conveys his desire to push you around.
For me, this is what post-grunge is supposed to be. There is a rawness - funnily enough, a hallmark of grunge - to “Push” that no other song in Matchbox Twenty’s whole discography matches, but its cleanliness and beauty still feel like a little jab at the caterwauling woe-is-me tendencies grunge sometimes had.
Final Notes
“Push” is far from being one of the most memorable rock songs of the 90s. Despite its continued presence on the radio today, it did not make the year-end lists for both 1996 and 1997. It is, however, a perfect song in a world mired by tired and uninspired musical structures. Perhaps this will make you a little bit more charitable towards it when DJ Whatshisname plays it for the eighth time that day.