Thread by @CA_Young

Okay, so instead of retweeting a dozen things separately, I think I may need to accept that it's time for me to create a thread for my feels/thoughts re: The Hype. This will be that thread.

Thing One: I have a weird pet theory about Stressed Out as the sequel to Chlorine (which I mentioned here:

https://twitter.com/CA_Young/status/1154857454376751109

), which I mostly justified because it's the two of them in a non-cinematic heightened reality, and they had to get jobs. The vibe felt right.

And I'm not sure I can make a strong 1:1 argument because Stressed Out is a liminal space with real houses and real family in it, but also a fictive childhood element, but we can also be pretty sure that Josh and Tyler aren't making their living servicing pools.

What Chlorine DOES give us is another heightened reality space where the two of them are essentially doing the creative process: Tyler creating the space, luring out the inspiration, Josh as a major part of the support and execution of the work.

There were hints going into The Hype (before we knew the mv was going to be The Hype) that it might not be more Trench mythos -- namely the promo shots for the new leg of the tour, which turned out to be video-related -- and The Hype and Chlorine are keys to each other lyrically.

Both songs talk about the stress of the creative process, and especially doing creativity as work for an audience, and staying alive through it.

In Chlorine, one runs for one's life, withdraw, lives different lives, has to step away, how some things feel like poison and purity.

The Hype also sees withdrawal as part of that process, the need to clear one's head and purify, to recenter on what's crucial about the work, and focus on that instead of getting lost and drowned by outward influences.

Or, as I said to @poptivict earlier:

https://twitter.com/CA_Young/status/1154818120214859776

As an artist, my heart just fucking exploded. That anxiety about others is constant, and seeing others at the height of their game talk about processing that is super important to me.

As a fan, my heart exploded also because Tyler has imprinted that origin story in the song.

Which you only know if you're mildy obsessive about details, or useful resources point things out for you. Specifically, the distorted audio in the middle of the song is from a web series from before they were signed, with Tyler and Josh figuring out how to be a two piece.

You can find that here:

Lyrics Genius kindly points it out as well: genius.com/15948807

Right. So. The video.

The first thing I'm going to do is point again at a friend, and recommend that you listen to my friend @poptivict talk about color, because she's invested literal thousands of hours watching footage, interviews, videos, etc. to understand TOP and color.

Clique has a genuine fucking expert here, and she's a goddamn genius, and some of my video feels only exist because I get to exist somewhere in her vicinity.

(OH! We also have to talk about Lane Boy. Don't let me forget. Because that's going to be important, too.)

So we open with Tyler in twilight on a suburban street, very plain, and he opens his chest.

The song's about internal process, so yeah. That's excellent. Also, all of us screamed "SCREEN!" at the same time, which you can all cross reference if you feel like it.

It walks us into the basic narrative of the video: Tyler and Josh playing a house concert, sparsely attended. Tyler unplugs, walks into the garage where they're now playing a larger show with an engaged crowd. Tyler climbs a ladder onto the roof and boom: big yard show.

(Side note: the attendees are fans. The video is shot in Columbus, which is the band's hometown. Some of the people in attendance have literally been going to these shows from the beginning. Yeah, hi. Again, my heart is a disaster.)

With each change of scene, they accumulate new layers. Loud layers of plaid. Plaid on plaid on plaid. By the time they reach the roof, it's almost hard to look at.

And then, the roof collapses. Tyler falls into the first space, now wrecked with the debris of the collapsed roof.

(Oh, also: Ned is in the crowd. Ned from Chlorine. Meaning that the video for The Hype shares a continuity with Chlorine. Just saying.)

But anyway. Debris and ruin. Except that Tyler and Josh create their own space as artists. They close their eyes, hold their hands palms out, and the worst of the ruin undoes itself. They strip away the plaid, and -- now alone -- continue to play the song.

Tyler fixes a couple of things. He tapes a piece of art back into place with yellow tape -- the visual sign associated with Banditos in Trench mythos -- and the camera pulls back, down the street, out of the screen in Tyler's chest.

Josh hands him a Capri Sun. They walk away in the half-light, talking, goofing off.

(The Capri Sun completes the circle to Stressed Out, btw. Fight me.)

So. Color.

Look at the lamps at the house show: yellow and green. Trench colors. Good guy colors, according to the lighting rubric. Not just via Lua, but also via interviews with Tyler Shapard: lightingandsoundamerica.com/reprint/Twenty…

There are other yellow bits strewn around the house: a picture of sunflowers behind Tyler (which resemble the flowers from Trench mythos videos), yellow chairs, etc.

Tyler's plaid is yellow-striped when he enters the garage. The lighting behind them is yellow-orange.

Incidentially, Lua's video about orange might be a cool thing to go look at right now:

https://twitter.com/poptivist/status/1154645344615096320

Tyler's roof plaids are increasingly yellow. Josh is on one of his signature Trench SJC kits that's green and yellow. There are fans with yellow hair. There's a roll of yellow duct tape that wasn't there before.

Josh's sticks are now his signature Trench yellow Zildjians. His kit gets the yellow gaffer tape styled front from Trench era.

(HI, I STARTED PLAYING DRUMS TWO MONTHS AGO. I'M HAVING FEELS.)

So here's a thing about the plaid: plaid increases with the size of the crowd. When they're alone -- beginning and end -- Josh and Tyler are plaidless. The more people who arrive, the plaidier the plaid.

From the lyrics:

Yeah, they might be talking behind your head
Your exterior world can step off instead
It might take some friends and a warmer shirt
But you don't get thick skin without getting burnt

Every new layer is another layer. Warmer shirts. Protection.

Tyler starts with a single protective layer, Josh also accumulates them, until they are buried in them. But also, while this is happening, the crowd is both growing and moving further away. Apologies to @tylerIove, but this shows it very well:

https://twitter.com/tylerIove/status/1154827420412928000

(Also, hey, that house is yellow-bricked with a green, green lawn, and yellow floodlights back behind Josh's drum riser.)

So now's a really good time to talk about Lane Boy, isn't it?

Specifically as another song about this war with process as a public creator, and how being self-conscious/ambitious/doing things in public wrecks you if you're not careful to guard your own creativity.

Specifically, though, I want to talk about a part of the video that starts at 2:11.

You might want to watch the whole thing if you've never seen it before, but the gist is that Tyler is stalked by two hazmat-garbed beings -- fame and success -- who are also part of the conflict of the song: creative authenticity or marketability.

And at 2:11, we see not just Tyler but a HUGE CROWD of people kneel in the presence of Fame and Success as Tyler asks:

Why do I kneel to these concepts?
Tempted by control,
Controlled by temptation.
"Stay Low," they say.
"Stay Low."

And then Tyler bursts up onto his feet.

Because that's no fucking way to live. It's a cycle and a battle and a dance every day if you're trying to sell your art, but if you have something to say, losing that thing can be fatal to your vision.

The Hazmats aren't protecting their occupants. They're inherently toxic.

(Chlorine, used incorrectly, is likewise toxic.)

So where am I going with this?

Well, I think I've already said it above, but as a piece The Hype -- the song and all the things connected to it -- is an act of artistic vulnerability on a scale you don't see very often because it directly confronts the paradox of public art.

Wait, no. Not public art, but art done in public, especially when you are doing it for a living, and especially if you experience any sort of success.

The bigger things get, the more fraught or distant some things become. Some structures become fragile. It becomes more important than ever to recenter and keep a handle on who you are, and what's important, and who your inner circle is.

Which is why I'm going to point this out: I've said a lot about Tyler, because Tyler is doing active and dynamic things, but at every point, in every moment, everywhere he goes, there's Josh.

House? Josh. Garage? Already there. Roof? Yep, waiting and wearing $600 plaid high tops. When Tyler falls? Boom: it's Jishwa time. The dude even shows up with drinks.

That's the living core of the thing: a project, labored over together, made of trust.

All of the noise, all of the distance, even the possibility of failure is just static.

Twenty One Pilots is just these two guys who are best friends making what they love.
And they're gonna try real fucking hard to make it good.
And they're gonna do it even if we don't show up.

And that's the thread. Power to the local dreamer.

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