Dissect - S6E7 - Love Drought by Beyoncé

Episode Date: June 8, 2020

We continue our serialized analysis of Beyoncé’s Lemonade by dissecting its seventh chapter “Reformation,” which features the song “Love Drought.” Beyoncé extends an olive branch to her husband, expresses the potential of the love they share, and entertains the idea of reconciliation. A visual guide for this episode can be found at dissectpodcast.com. Follow us on social media @dissectpodcast. S6 merch can be purchased at shop.dissectpodcast.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From Spotify studios, this is Dysect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. I'm Cole Kushna. And I'm T.T. Shodia. Today we continue our serialized analysis of Lemonade by Beyonce. On our last episode, we unpacked the chapter Accountability, which featured the song Daddy Lessons. There, Beyonce reflected on her upbringing in order to examine the roots of the curse she inherited. Specifically, she looked at her relationship with her father, whose to pay. depicted as a hard-nosed cowboy who commands Beyoncé to shoot men like him.

Through daddy lessons, Beyonce discovers that her father had been socialized as many men are, to be a strong, powerful protector who shows no sign of weakness. Beyonce herself had adopted some of these characteristics as lessons her father passed down to her. Through displays of strength, masculine posturing, and stoicism, we saw her demand justice from her cheating partner. The justice she sought was retribution. She wanted her partner to feel the same pain he inflicted upon her as a punishment for his crimes. That desire for retribution manifested in anger as Beyonce threatened to return the favor of his infidelity.

In apathy, Beyonce relished her ability to lie about her whereabouts and make her partner wonder where she was for a change. These examples indicated Beyonce's impulse for her partner to get a taste of his own medicine. Her sense of retributive justice seemed to have been an inheritance from her father who encouraged her to shoot men who are like him. However, over the last two chapters, Beyonce has undergone a shift from this desire to make him pay to a genuine desire to repair the damage that has been done. While she still demands justice for her husband's infidelity, she has shifted from retributive justice to restorative justice. Restorative justice is not centered on the punishment for a crime,

but rather on repairing the harm done to a victim. As a practice, it involves allowing a victim and offender to come face to face, giving the victim the opportunity to express their hurt and their needs going forward. It also involves allowing the offender to express their side of the story, while accepting responsibility for their actions. Each party is treated with empathy, and while reconciliation is not necessarily the goal of restorative justice, it is a possible outcome. As we'll see throughout the chapter, this is the model Beyonce embodies moving forward,

as she not only expresses her own painful truths, but also offers her partner the ability to make amends. And it's with this new justice model that Lemonade progresses into its next chapter, the subject of our episode today, Reformation. He bathes me until I forget their names and faces. As Reformation begins, we are met with a wide shot of the inside of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome, home of the New Orleans Saints NFL football team. The stadium appears to be deserted. We cut to a close-up of Beyonce who lies in the fetal position on the green turf of the football field.

She's wearing a white dress, and she rests her head on her elbow, visibly despondent, clutching her stomach. It's from this vulnerable position that we hear more poetry adapted from Warsaw Shire. She says, he bathes me until I forget their names and faces. This opening line recalls Lemonade's second chapter, denial. There we heard Beyonce ask for dominion at her partner's feet, as if he was a god to be worshipped. Here, in Reformation, the power dynamic is reversed, as he now humbles himself by bathing her, cleansing her of the pain of his infidelity until she forgets the names and faces

of the women he cheated with. Immediately following this line, we flash back to the pivotal scene we saw in the chapter, Anger. It was here that we saw Beyonce take off and throw her wedding ring directly into the camera. However, here now in Reformation, this shot is played in reverse

and the ring returns to her hand. This seems to indicate that her partner's accountability, humility, and atonement may reverse the course of their separation. I ask him to look me in the eye when I come. Beyonce's pregnant pause after the word come creates innuendo, as initially it appears she asks him to look her in the eyes when they have sex.

Once again, this demonstrates a reversal in their relationship dynamic and refutes some of the language we heard in accountability. There, Beyonce asked her mother a series of questions about her father an attempt to understand the generational curse of broken relationships in her family. Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head?

This line of questioning indicated that her mother's relationship was characterized by a submission to her partner's will. This submission was embodied in their sex life as she gets on her knees. daily, a double entendre indicating a worship of her husband while simultaneously performing oral sex. In contrast, Beyonce now demands her partner look her in the eyes, transforming their sexual acts from manifestations of their dysfunctional power dynamic into moments of intimacy and respect. After this innuendo, she finishes her sentence, making the full line, I ask him to look me in the eyes when I come home. In this sense, she makes it clear that emotional intimacy, honesty and respect are the conditions that her return depends on. Also, having just seen the

reverse image of Beyonce throwing her ring off after anger, this line appears to reverse her question she asked him at the onset of that chapter, Why Can't You See Me? Now she makes it clear he can no longer close his eyes like doors and selectively shut her out of his inner world. He will see her and allow her to see him. In the spirit of this newfound commitment to honesty in their relationship, Beyonce asked their partner a series of questions to reach the heart of the issues that have been driving them apart. Why do you deny yourself, heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it's not possible for someone like you, but you are the love of my life.

Up to this point in the album's narrative, Beyonce has done the necessary work of reasserts hurting herself and claiming her worth, not only in her relationship, but in the face of societal racism she endures as a black woman. She channeled the goddess Oshun, embodied the Egyptian Queen Nefertiti, liken herself to Malcolm X, and reclaim the madewood plantation house by dancing alongside Serena Williams. Having regained her sense of self-worth, Beyonce here doesn't ask her partner why he hurt her, but instead asks why he's hurting himself. She asks him why he denies himself heaven, why he believes he's unworthy, indicating that she now understands his cheating was not due to any inadequacy on her part or inordinate lust on his. Rather, it has to do with deeper,

underlying issues that make him believe he does not deserve love. As Beyonce asks him, why do you deny yourself heaven? We peer through a window across a vast lawn to see a tall, white picket fence gate with bright white clouds behind it. By coupling this image with the word heaven, it seems this gate could represent the entrance into heaven, often referred to as the pearly gates. However, this is actually the gate that surrounds the madewood plantation house. The very same image that evokes heaven and the promise of redemption reveals itself to be the entrance into a place where black people were enslaved. The image also calls to mind the white picket fence that has become synonymous with the American Dream.

By displaying this white picket fence around a plantation, we recall the way white society has acted as gatekeepers, often shutting Black Americans out of the wealth and opportunities the American Dream promises. As this story is centered on Beyonce and her experience as a black woman, we haven't received any indication of her partner's interior feelings or motivations. However, given the pervasive images of the legacy of slavery and racism we see here and throughout the film, it seems that, like Beyonce, her partner must undergo his own process

of dismantling any inherited beliefs of unworthiness that stem from an oppressive culture. So while she asks him, why do you deny yourself heaven? We understand this question isn't to cast blame on him for his infidelity, but to open a general inquiry into the ways the internalized messages of racism keep him from accepting love. This is seemingly confirmed by Jay-Z himself in the outro of the Carter's two. 2018 collaboration 713. To the mothers that put up with us, to all the babies that suffer because us,

we only know love because of you. America's a mom to us. Lock us up, shoot us, shoot ourselves to steam down. We don't deserve true love. Black Queen you rescued us. Jay-Z raps, America is a motherfucker to us.

Lock us up, shoot us, shoot our self-esteem down. We don't deserve true love. He makes it explicitly clear that systematic racism can and does infiltrate the psyche. The disproportionate imprisonment of black people as well as the prevalent shooting of unarmed black men sends a message that white America does not value their lives. Naturally, it would follow that some of these racist messages become internalized, causing her partner to question his inherent dignity and worthiness. Beyoncé finishes this spoken word interlude saying,

You are the love of my life, repeating it for emphasis as if she is trying to get this message through to him. She seems to reassure him that despite his internal barriers to love, she's willing to confront these issues with him and put in the work necessary to revive their relationship. As Beyonce repeats this to him, we return to the Superdome. Beyonce is still lying down midfield in all white, illuminated by the bright stadium lights behind her.

While the Superdome holds personal significance to Beyonce as the site of her first Super Bowl performance, its inclusion and reformation seems to be used more for its cultural significance to the city of New Orleans itself. The Superdome was built in the early 1970s and served not only as the home of Saints football, but also the sites of numerous Super Bowls, Final Four college basketball games, concerts, and even a 1987 visit from the Pope. It was a staple of the city, a source for both entertainment and community. In August of 2005, the Super Bowl Dome became the designated quote-unquote shelter of last resort for up to 30,000 people during Hurricane Katrina. The storm raged against the building, ripping off pieces of the roof,

allowing torrents of water to pour in. When the levees broke and the city flooded, the Superdome became surrounded by water. Tens of thousands of New Orleans who sought refuge in the stadium were trapped there for days, with very little food, water, or information from the government on how long they'd be required to stay. The conditions soon became nearly unlivable as the crowd awaited in a sweltering heat amidst an unbearable stench of overflowing toilets. There were reports of rape within the dome, as well as three confirmed deaths over the course of five days. Katrina's survivor and poet Shelton Alexander gave his first-hand account of the Superdome's conditions in an interview with history. A lot of different things happened, you know, inside the dome.

It just got real crazy. You know, the smell was really, really horrific. You're talking like after the first day the tallest was already backed up. And not having, you know, drinking water and all that other stuff was just kind of like real, real bad. I watch a lot of people suffer. I've seen people like unattended. Elders like just sitting in place for like days at a time, not moving. The Storm Ravaged Superdome became a defining image of Katrina news coverage,

a symbol of not only the city's destruction, but also governmental negligence. of the poor, mostly black citizens who were trapped there. It was a sight of collective suffering, despair, trauma, and was seen by many as the country's abandonment of the citizens it was meant to protect. In the days following the storm, Reverend Jesse Jackson voiced his belief that race was a major factor in the government's response to Katrina. He told CNN, quote, Today, I saw 5,000 African Americans on the I-10 Causeway, desperate, perishing, dehydrated, babies die. It looked like Africans in the whole of a slave ship. It was so ugly and so obvious.

Have we missed this catastrophe because of indifference and ineptitude, or is it a combination of both? And certainly, I think the issue of race as a factor will not go away from this equation. We have great tolerance for black suffering and black marginalization, unquote. And so, as Beyonce alluded to with the question, why do you consider yourself undeserving? It seems the answer partially lies in the same. the way America treats its black citizens, whether in mass incarceration, killings of unarmed black people, or in its response to Hurricane Katrina. In these events and many others, America sends the message to its black citizens that they are undeserving of love or basic respect.

In the year following Katrina, many believe that the Superdome would never return to its full glory and that the Saints football team would eventually relocate. However, through a concerted effort by the city and the team itself, the stadium was rebuilt and reopened the following NFL season, and thus the Superdome was transformed from a reminder of Katrina and its horrors into a symbol of New Orleans resilience and resurrection. Dressed in all white, Beyonce too prepares for the rebirth of her relationship. Given all of the pain that has characterized her story throughout the film, the infidelity, the miscarriages, and the generational trauma of slavery, we returned to her 2019 interview with Elle. Quote, I began to search for deeper meaning when life began to teach me

lessons I didn't know I needed. Success looks different to me now. I learned that all pain and loss is in fact a gift. Having miscarriages taught me that I had to mother myself before I could be a mother to someone else. Then I had blue, and the quest for my purpose became so much deeper. I died and was reborn in my relationship, and the quest for self became even stronger, unquote. It seems Beyonce begins reformation not only to honor the collective suffering and despair of the people of New Orleans during Katrina, but to emulate the community's rebirth in this turning point in her narrative. With Beyonce still on the turf of the Superdome, the opening moments of Love Drought begin. Love Drought was written by Mike Dean, Ingrid Burley, Beyonce. It's one of the

most emotionally revealing songs of the album, accentuated by a lush, serene soundscape. We'll unpack this soundscape, along with the song's moving lyrics, right after the break. Welcome back to Dysect. Before the break, we saw Beyonce lying in the center of the Superdome as the opening moments of love drought began playing. The song's production is light, lush, and warm, which matches Beyonce's new mental state as she turns from a retributive to restorative justice model. The song features a simple, slow-moving progression played on an organ-like synth pad. Next, we find a twinkling synth following the chords with arpeggios, which just means the notes and a chord played individually, one after the other. Finally, a distorted 808

punches the bass notes in each chord, adding a touch of grit in an otherwise shimmering sound scheme. Later in the song, a proper 808 drumbeat enters, accompanied by the track's wavering synth melody. On screen during the song, during the song, the opening moments of love drought, the scene shifts from the massive empty Superdome to a quiet, marshy beach at sunset. It's here on this coastal shore that Beyonce once again addresses her partner. Beyonce begins her verse in the same way she had throughout the first half of the album by calling her partner out for lying. She emphasizes this seemingly unending pattern saying, 10 times out of nine, I know you're lying.

However, perhaps as a result of her process of taking accountability in the previous chapter, she then shifts to a more compassionate sentiment saying, but nine times out of 10, I know you're trying. So I'm trying to be fair and you're trying to be there and to care. Beyonce repeats the word trying three times in this verse, indicating that for both of them, this is a difficult and ongoing effort. Repairing the damage in their relationship requires constant effort and commitment from both parties. For Beyonce, this means striving to understand his pain and empathize with him. In return, her husband commits to being fully present to his wife and family, rather than escaping his own suffering and insecurities through an affair.

She continues saying, And you're caught up in your permanent emotions. All the loving I've been giving goes unnoticed. It's just floating in the air. Looky there. Beyonce repeats the sentiment of the opening poem that her partner experiences internal barriers that keep him from receiving the love she gives.

Until he is able to love himself, her love will continue to float in the air, present but unacknowledged. Like on my worst day, Thursday, I don't care about the light, I'd spend my life in the dark, but a second of you and me, only way to go is up. Beyonce tells her partner that he is her lifeline, the rope used to rescue someone who's drowning. Under all the pressures she's outlined throughout the film, she looks to him as a means of salvation.

However, his rejection of her by cheating had only compounded the pressure she already felt, as she compared herself to Becky with the good hair and other side chicks. Beyoncé continues, If I wasn't me, would you still feel me? We recall that in Hold Up, Beyonce rapped that she would love him regardless of his success, implying that side chicks are only interested in his fame and success.

Let's imagine for a moment that you never made a name for yourself, a master wealth, they had you labeled as a king, never made it out the cage, to like that moving in them streets, never had the baddest woman in the game up in your shit. In contrast to this confident, even mocking tone of hold up, Here in love drought, Beyonce demonstrates her own fear of exactly this situation, wondering if

he would leave her if she herself wasn't famous and successful. She completely lets her guard down, admitting that despite her Oshun-like power, she still holds her own insecurities. She then reassures him that she doesn't care about the lights or the beams, again reiterating that she loves him for who he is, rather than for his success. However, once again, she does so in a more emotionally revealing way. She admits she would, quote unquote, live in the dark, or reject her power, fame, and money if it meant they could save the relationship. She completes her verse singing, Only way to go is up, skin thick, too tough.

While they have hit rock bottom in their marriage, Beyonce admits here that the only way to go was up, rejecting the possibility of separation. As we saw in the previous chapter, invulnerability and an emphasis on toughness were some of the characteristics that led to their broken marriage. However, after bearing her soul, admitting her mistakes, Beyonce says, skin thick, too tough, perhaps suggesting that they could still use the toughness they've developed, but channel it towards saving their marriage, rather than building emotional walls. As Beyonce sings this opening verse, we pan up from the beach shore to see a group of nine black women wading into the waters.

Each woman sports a distinct hairstyle, from braids to buns to a pompadour fohawk. However, they are unified as a group in matching white-collar dresses with black trim. With contemplative expressions and their hands folded in front of them, they follow Beyonce into the water as if in a slow, prayerful procession.

While the lyrics of the first verse primarily convey her willingness to resolve her marriage, this image of the procession of women reminds us that Beyonce also sets out to engender communal healing for black women. Beyonce seems to lead these women into the water as a form of baptism, which is a ritual of initiation into the Christian church. Traditionally, those who partake in baptism wear white to signify purity or a fresh start, and the priest or preacher submerges them in water. When they emerge from the water, they are reborn to a new life of devotion to God. In this sense, Beyonce seems to take on a role of priestess, ushering these women forward to be born

again into a life of healing from the pain of racial injustice that was outlined in the first half of the film. Just as the Christian right of baptism initiates one into the church, it seems these women have created a community of their own. It suggests that healing is communal and happens in relationship with one another, rather than in isolation. But this procession holds significance beyond even the ritual communal healing. Throughout Lemonade, images that evoked the legacy of slavery have permeated the film.

From the Civil War ruins of Fort McComb to the sinister red hallway that resembled the door of no return to the sugar plantations of Louisiana. Similarly, writer Michael Owuna observed that this procession of women waiting in water alludes to one of the most significant stories of resistance to slavery,

the story of Ebo Landing. In 1803, a group of enslaved, Nijerians from the Ebo tribe arrived in Savannah, Georgia after enduring the Middle Passage. They were sold into slavery and transported by ship to an island off the coast of Georgia. While the historical details of what occurred next are disputed, it's widely believed that around 75 Ebo people seized control of the ship. Rather than submit to a life of slavery, they marched directly into the waters of a nearby creek, singing praises to their god Chuku as they drowned. The story of the revolt at Ebo Landing took on a mythological component, as in subsequent retellings,

the Africans who marched into the waters were said to have walked on water all the way home. In other versions, they took flight back to Africa. These retellings portray not only the spirit of resistance that took place, but also offer an image of hope for freedom beyond the literal death that occurred. This quote-unquote story of the flying Africans has been referenced throughout African-American in media and literature, most notably in Tony Morrison's Nobel Prize-winning novel, Song of Solomon. The late Tony Morrison discussed this folktale in an interview regarding her novel. The one thing you say about a myth is that there's some truth in there, no matter how bizarre

they may seem. And the one that I had always heard that seemed like just a child's wish was the one about black slaves who came to the United States. And under certain circumstances, they would fly back to Africa. Much more interesting way, instead of just being a child or a sort of naive escape story, it's about flight. Yes. It really is about flight. And flight comes up a lot in spirituals.

I'll fly away, oh Jesus, I'll fly away. Understandably. Understandable, yes. So what is there about that? It's probably escape. It's also the move away from earth into things that were more spiritual. I mean, it has a lot of connotations. So I'm thinking, how can I make a contemporary story about a black man, young black man,

who learns to fly or who makes his escape, not geographical escape, but another mindset. Yes. How does he escape? the, you know, the prison, the cultural prison that he found himself in. As Morrison asserts, myths carry truth. While the historical account of resistance at Ebo Landing holds power in and of itself, its mythological retelling abused this moment with an even deeper meaning.

Whether or not these people literally flew back to their home, the Ebo people and all those who told their story demonstrated the ability to transform their resistance to slavery into an enduring symbol of hope, of flight and freedom. Like Milkman, the protagonist of Morrison's Song of Solomon, Beyonce too must look to the past, not only to understand the inherited generational wounds of slavery, but also to recover this ability to transform pain into flight, into freedom. She must, as Morrison puts it, escape the cultural prison she finds herself in. Beyonce signifies this hope for freedom in love drought's chorus, reflecting both on her relationship with her husband

and her relationship to the women in the water. Despite their insecurities and the obstacles in their way, Beyonce attests to an unwavering belief that their love can overcome their pain to heal their marriage. They hold the power to move mountains, calm their internal wars, and summon the reins to replenish their relationship and grow something beautiful. Paradoxically, their path to summoning this power first lies in revealing their weaknesses to one another,

acknowledging their pains and fears, and then working together to overcome them. Once again, the visuals accompanying the lyrics indicate that this power lies not only between Beyonce and her husband, but also in her community. We again see the group of women in white wading in the water. They've now stopped to create a horizontal line facing outward toward the ocean. Just as Beyonce sings, you and me could move a mountain. They join hands and raise them above their heads in unity. It seems that together, these women are the ones who can move mountains, calm wars, and bring healing waters.

While they pay homage to their Igbo predecessors who resisted slavery in a mass suicide, the end of their story coincides with the more hopeful ending depicted in folklore. They raise their arms as if to take flight, recalling myths of the Africans who flew home. And so while Beyonce and her husband's love can create miraculous healing, just as important to healing and Reformation is, solidarity with the women who experience similar struggles. Nine times out of ten, I'm in my feelings. But ten times out of nine, I'm only human.

Tell me what did I do wrong. Feel like the question has been posed. I'm moving on. I always been committed. I've been focused. I always paid attention, been devoted. Tell me what did I do wrong? Oh, I already asked that.

My bad. We recall that Beyonce began the first verse focusing on her husband's behavior, singing, 9 times out of 9, I know you're lying, but 9 times out of 10, I know you're trying. Now in the second verse, she reverses the structure and pivots to a self-reflection. She sings, 9 times out of 10, I'm in my feelings, but 10 times out of 9, I'm only human. Although she's committed to moving forward in her relationship, she still struggles with the same insecurities we've seen throughout the film. Just as she said and hold up, I'm not too perfect to ever feel this worthless. Here she points out that she's only human. Despite all the work she's

done to empower and reassert herself, it can be easy to get caught up in a cycle of self-doubt and blame. Black feminist professor and author Brittany Cooper spoke about this notion of doubt and conversation with Miss Magazine. Quote, you could do everything right. You could be a church girl, get a degree, you could not have many sexual partners, or by contrast, you could be a vixen and enjoy yourself. You can do all these things, and it still doesn't work out. So then, how do you build a life for yourself if the story doesn't go the way you think it will? Unquote. While Beyonce considers how she was betrayed despite doing everything right, she continually recommits herself to moving forward. For her, building a new life for herself means letting go of self-doubt and any conditioning she's

received to believe she's not good enough. I don't care about the lights or the beams, spend my life in a dark for the sake of you and this affirmation of self and commitment to creating a new life is made evident in the last line of the verse. Once again, Beyonce asserts that the only way to go is up and then takes a final shot at the Beckies and whack bitches with whom her husband cheated. However, the film version of Lemonade does not contain this second verse, but instead cuts to a drum outro.

Here we cut to a block. black and white close-up of Beyonce's face. She's adorned with white markings similar to those painted on the women inside the bus during the chapter apathy. White dots line her brow, while horizontal lines streak below her eyes like tears. As the drums play, the shot rotates clockwise 360 degrees, as if her head is spinning in a circle. When we return to her eye level, she maintains eye contact with the camera and then looks upward to the sky. This 360-degree emotion of the camera suggests that her journey has come full circle and she's ready to move forward. As her eyes lift upwards to the sky, she seems to shift her focus to more spiritual matters,

something we'll see throughout the following chapters. As Reformation concludes, we return to a now black and white shot of the same beach shores that we've inhabited throughout the chapter. No longer sunset, we've entered a new day as the title card reading, Forgiveness appears as we look out over the ocean. me, now that reconciliation is possible. If we're going to heal, let it be glorious. Every step on her journey has led her here, and served vital to her process. She's expressed her anger at the injustices she's endured not only from her husband, but from America writ large. She's descended into a state of emptiness, only to look to the past to understand her family

history, demand accountability, and work to change her relationship for the better. All of these stages culminated in the vulnerable exchange with her husband and the display of healing and solidarity with the black women who've accompanied her throughout her journey. She is now able to declare that reconciliation is possible. She's done the difficult work of not only bearing her insecurities, but also reasserting her sense of power and worth in a society that undermines her. It's from this enlightened state that she declares, If we're going to heal, let it be glorious, indicating a hope that they may be able to transform their pain into something divinely beautiful.

Conclusions In Reformation, Beyonce has offered her husband an olive branch, replacing her desire for retribution with the hope of restoration. This process involved the difficult work of voicing her insecurities and self-doubt, as well as asking the same of her partner. While all their pain laid out on the table, Beyonce affirmed her commitment to working towards forgiveness and her relationship. She was aided in her journey by a procession of black women who are also affected by the legacy of slavery and racial injustices that have permeated to film. They honored their

past and raised their arms as if to take flight from this inherited cultural prison. Together they have created the conditions that make glorious healing possible. That's not to say that the road to redemption before her will be easy. On the contrary, some of her most difficult moments lie ahead as she finally confronts her partner face to face. This is the song Sandcastles from Lemonade's next chapter, Forgiveness. A chapter will examine note by note, scene by scene, next time on Dissect. Dysect is a production of Spotify Studios.

Remember, you can find visual guides for each. each episode on Dysectpodcast.com, which also includes links to any articles cited on today's episode. While you're there, be sure to check out our limited season six merchandise, and be sure to follow us on social media at Dysect Podcast. Today's episode was written by Maggie Lacey and me. Additional analysis by Michael Bundalo and Titi Shodia. Additional research by Gail Acosta. Audio editing by Eric Bass and me. Song Recreations by Andrew Atwood. Theme music by Birocratic. Okay, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.