Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 124 as they explore classical allusions in pop music. Discover connections to Plato’s Cave, the Minotaur, ABBA’s Cassandra, and resources to master the Latin language.


Introduction: Canadian Smog and Herculean Struggles

Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 124 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting from the subterranean depths of Vomitorium Central, your hosts, Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe, return to the realm of modern pop culture.

Recording this episode amidst a thick blanket of Canadian wildfire smoke that left West Michigan with some of the worst air quality in the world, the hosts prepare for “Use Your Allusion Part Two”. Jeff is eager to defend his title as “Johnny Pop,” while Dave approaches the pop music topic with notable dread. Dave compares the episode to Hercules wrestling the giant Antaeus on the shores of Libya; whenever the pop music discussions become too squishy, Dave promises to touch the earth by referencing heavy metal or classical composers to regain his strength.

The Four Purposes of Mythological Allusion

Before queuing up the modern tracks, Jeff reads an opening quote from an article titled Mythology and Music by Nathan Cobb, published in the journal Aletheia. Cobb notes that mythology provides a common narrative foundation for artists across different eras to evoke emotional responses.

Using this as a springboard, Jeff outlines four primary reasons why modern artists continue to allude to ancient Greco-Roman myths:

  1. The Universal Template: Ancient myths speak to shared, universal human experiences. Even if a modern audience has never read the Odyssey, they can recognize themselves in a story of wandering, returning home, or facing monstrous obstacles (as seen in the film O Brother, Where Art Thou?).
  2. Flipping the Script: Modern artists frequently take a famous myth and retell it from the perspective of a marginalized character. Excellent examples include Madeline Miller’s Circe or Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad, which express views of women who were not front and center in the original epics.
  3. Musical and Thematic Virtuosity: During the 1970s progressive rock era, bands used dense mythological themes to showcase their technical prowess and deep knowledge of arcane literature.
  4. Adding Gravitas: Referencing classical antiquity instantly raises the bar. By comparing a contemporary struggle to an ancient Greek tragedy, a songwriter signals to the audience that the subject matter carries serious, historical weight.

Orestes, Toxic Residue, and ABBA’s Tragedy

The musical journey begins with a heavy, somber track from the year 2000: “Orestes” by the rock band A Perfect Circle.

Written by Grand Rapids native Maynard James Keenan (famous as the frontman for Tool), the song never actually mentions Orestes by name. Instead, the lyrics focus on the dark desire to sever an “umbilical residue” and the painful struggle between parent and child. In Greek myth, Orestes avenges his father Agamemnon by murdering his own mother, Clytemnestra. Jeff notes that Keenan frequently explores his own troubled parental relationships in his music. While Dave finds the visceral track far too grim and depressing, it serves as a raw example of using myth to process personal trauma.

Moving to a vastly different sonic landscape, the hosts play ABBA’s 1981 B-side track, “Cassandra”.

Dave praises the story of Cassandra, calling her perhaps the single most sympathetic character in all of Greek mythology. Cursed by Apollo to always prophesy the truth but never be believed, Cassandra foresees the fall of Troy and her own brutal murder at the hands of Clytemnestra in Mycenae, yet remains utterly powerless to stop the disaster. ABBA dresses this devastating, tragic narrative in an upbeat, synth-heavy pop melody with beautiful vocal harmonies. Dave appreciates the contrast, noting that a sweet pop hook often makes a dark, tragic lyric far more engaging.

Aristophanes and the Shadows of Plato’s Cave

Next on the playlist is “Lysistrata” by the band Utopia, fronted by the famed producer Todd Rundgren.

Released in 1982 on the concept album Swing to the Right, Rundgren wrote the song as a direct reaction to the rising political hawkishness of the era. The track borrows its title and premise from Aristophanes’ famous comedic play, where the women of Athens unite to withhold marital relations until their husbands agree to end the Peloponnesian War. The pop song flips the perspective, featuring a husband pleading with his partner to let him into the bedroom, ultimately promising to put down his weapons to secure peace. Jeff names this catchy, straightforward track as his favorite song of the episode.

The hosts then turn to “No One Knows My Plan” by the alternative band They Might Be Giants.

This 1994 song explicitly references Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, with the singer noting that his accusers are just like the chained prisoners described “by the Greek guy”. Fans online often interpret the lyrics as a story about a man falsely accused of a crime by neighbors who only saw misleading shadows on a window shade rather than the true forms of reality. Dave expresses frustration with this type of songwriting, arguing that an artist should tell a coherent story rather than throwing vague Rorschach blots at the wall for the audience to decipher.

Sponsors: Fueling the Classical Renaissance

Before tackling the final tracks, the boys take a moment to thank the sponsors who make the podcast possible.

The Minotaur’s Melancholy and Orpheus

Returning from the break, Jeff cues up “Minotaur” by the British indie band The Clientele.

The song presents a melancholic, sympathetic view of the fabled monster. Trapped in his labyrinth, the Minotaur sings about growing old while waiting for the hero Theseus to arrive, lamenting that life has simply passed him by. Reviewers speculate that the songwriter used the Minotaur as an allegory for the band’s own lack of commercial success in their native Britain. This leads Dave and Jeff into a fascinating tangent regarding ancient visual depictions of the Minotaur. While the standard iconography features a man’s body with a bull’s head, one rare, disturbing ancient depiction shows a bull’s body with a human head, subverting expectations in a deeply unsettling manner.

The next track is the beautiful, piano-driven ballad “Orpheus” by Sara Bareilles.

In this 2019 song, Bareilles assumes the role of Eurydice, begging her lover not to turn around and give up on love. While Bareilles stated in an interview that the song was written to process the chaos of the modern political climate, Jeff invokes the literary theory of “the death of the author”. He argues that the song functions far better when interpreted as a profound, personal anthem about a broken heart and romantic devotion, proving that an audience’s reception can override the songwriter’s stated intent.

Genesis and the Fountain of Salmacis

The episode concludes with a dive into the excess of 1970s British progressive rock, featuring the Peter Gabriel-led era of Genesis and their song “The Fountain of Salmacis”.

The track pulls its narrative directly from Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book IV. It tells the obscure story of Hermaphroditus (the son of Hermes and Aphrodite) and the water nymph Salmacis. When Hermaphroditus bathes in her pool, the obsessive nymph prays to the gods that they be united forever. The gods answer the prayer by physically merging their bodies into a single, androgynous being.

Jeff suggests that the prog-rock bands of this era were drawn to themes of androgyny, which fit perfectly with their elaborate, gender-bending stage personae. Dave, however, finds the execution completely laughable, declaring that the over-serious, theatrical performance has aged poorly and sounds like an unintentional self-parody.

The Gustatory Parting Shot

To officially close out Episode 124, Dave provides a Gustatory Parting Shot courtesy of the 18th-century Scottish biographer James Boswell.

“My definition of man is a cooking animal. The beasts have memory, judgment, and the faculties, and power, and passions of our minds in a certain degree, but no beast is a cook.”

Jeff praises the quote as a clever, culinary update to Aristotle’s classic definition of mankind. A special thanks to Mishka the sound engineer and Scott Van Zen for the blistering guitar riffs. Stay out of the smog, avoid looking back like Orpheus, and keep taking in the classics. Valete!

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