Aimee Mann, “Nothing Is Good Enough”

In the midst of recording her third album in 1998, Aimee Mann was told by her then-label Geffen Records that they weren’t hearing a single out of the batch of songs she had submitted to that point. Any artist with even an ounce of individuality and artistic curiosity has likely heard this plea at one time in her career, but Mann, who was on the wrong end of record company shortsightedness more often than most, channeled all her angst into “Nothing Is Good Enough,” a song that would be scathing if it weren’t so sad.

In a 1999 article in New York Times Magazine detailing her music industry headaches, Mann spoke about the absurdity of her predicament. “There’s never a single unless you’re earmarked for greatness in the first place,” she said. “I wish it would be called for what it is. Like, ‘These are good songs, but they’re just not grabbing me for some reason.’ Or, ‘Production-wise, this doesn’t fit into the format of radio right now.’ Or some sort of practical thing. But it never is. ‘Well, it’s just not a single.’ How can I correct that? ‘Oh, well then I’ll write some magical thing that will put you into a trance.’ But having said that, sometimes I think it is magic. Sometimes I think they think it’s magic. So they’re waiting for magic.”

“Nothing Is Good Enough” targets the record company gatekeepers whose arbitrary tastes and misguided motives can leave a talent like Mann twisting in the wind. The musical tenor of the track is dictated by Benmont Tench, whose piano sounds like it was inherited from a 60’s Burt Bacharach session and whose Chamberlin sounds like it was borrowed from the world’s saddest circus. Mann immediately sets the lyrical tone in the first lines by teasing a fairy tale and then undercutting it just as quickly: “Once upon a time is how it always goes but I’ll make it brief/What was started out with such excitement now I’d gladly end with relief.”

Mann builds her case in the second verse, cataloging with nimble wordplay and subtle internal rhymes the insults this clueless record executive has levelled: “Critics at their worst could never criticize the way that you do/ No, there’s no one else, I find, to undermine or dash a hope quite like you do.” In the bridge, she considers that maybe she’s at fault for falling for the same old lines: “Ladies and gentlemen, here’s exhibit A/ Didn’t I try again? And did the effort pay?/ Wouldn’t a smarter man simply walk away?”

“It doesn’t really help that you can never say what you’re looking for,” she sings to start the final verse, implying that the vague directives of this A&R stooge are of no help to an artist. “But you’ll know it when you hear it, know it when you see it walk through the door.” The refrain implies that no amount of effort will satisfy this character: “But nothing is good enough for people like you/ Who have to have someone take the fall/ And something to sabotage/ Determined to lose it all.”

In the final chorus, Mann’s voice rises to an anguished falsetto when she sings those last lines, her deadpan stillness finally cracking under the weight of her frustration. But “Nothing Is Good Enough” enjoyed a happy ending even if the song itself concludes on a defeated note. When it was finally released in 2000, it appeared on Mann’s self-released album Bachelor No.2 or, The Last Remains of the Dodo, a commercial success and a critical triumph. Perhaps you could say that she who laughs last laughs best. Or maybe it would be more accurate to conclude that sometimes not even the most ignorant mavens of the music industry can keep a good song down.

Read the lyrics.