The Meaning Behind “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” by The War on Drugs

Following their Grammy-winning A Deeper Understanding, The War on Drugs decided to sharpen their focus. The wistful indie band was growing into their new skin as an arena rock band. 

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The War on Drugs are part shoegaze and part heartland rock. Adam Granduciel and company live in the space between Spiritualized and Bruce Springsteen—and, of course, Granduciel’s fascination with Bob Dylan. But on their fifth album, I Don’t Live Here Anymore, the balance of ’90s shoegaze was leaning more in the direction of ’80s anthems. 

The title track is a kind of reimagining of Dylan’s “Not Dark Yet” from his masterpiece Time Out of Mind. Both songs deal with the passage of time. Dylan’s darkness is near. But Granduciel isn’t singing about the twilight. It’s dawn emerging from the fog of the past. 

By the time the spacey duo-choir of Lucius enters, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” becomes gospel. It’s a moment of transcendence. If Granduciel is documenting a moment of flux, he shifts his focus to the light. 

Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space

“I Don’t Live Here Anymore” was written by frontman Adam Granduciel and keyboardist Robbie Bennett. Granduciel co-produced the track with Shawn Everett. The album was recorded at multiple recording studios over three years. It was their second release on Atlantic Records. 

Granduciel began work on the new songs in 2018. The band recorded at Electric Lady in New York City and in 2019 convened in Los Angeles to work at Electro-Vox Recording Studios. Granduciel has been living in Los Angeles since 2014. 

Everett and Granduciel were forced to work separately due to the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. Later that year, they met at Sound City Studios to continue work in person. Granduciel is known for his perfectionism. He reworked and remixed the songs on I Don’t Live Here Anymore several times. 

Channeling Dylan

The Drugs’ leader is reminiscing about a Dylan concert. The verses are little moments of reflection.

Like when we went to see Bob Dylan
We danced to “Desolation Row”
But I don’t live here anymore
But I got no place to go

Then he moves on to pure existentialism. The warm sound of Lucius is reassuring. Even with the first-person narrative, the chorus is everyone’s experience with oceans of time and memories, like waves, coming and going. 

Beating like a heart
I’m gonna walk through every doorway, I can’t stop
I need some time, I need control, I need your love
I wanna find out everything I need to know
I’m gonna say everything that there is to say
Although you’ve taken everything I need away
I’m gonna make it to the place I need to go
We’re all just walkin’ through this darkness on our own

At its heart, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” is an anthem Springsteen would be proud of. Imagine the arena, singing in unison, forgetting about the chaos and uncertainty of a fractured and volatile world.

I never took our love for granted
You never left me wanting more
But you’d never recognize me, babe
I don’t live here anymore

The title track is a celebration of moving on. The past is no longer an anchor, it’s an engine propelling you forward. As is typical for The War on Drugs, it sounds like a dreamscape. What’s new this time around is the way Granduciel pushes his voice to the front. On previous albums, his singing would fold into layers of guitars and synths. The melodies are taut. His pop influences are no longer subtle. In the past, his voice would trail off into the band. Here, he completes his simple melodies with strict meticulousness. 

The synthesizer is pure Don Henley. And the ’80s nostalgia endures with tom fills and sparkling guitars. Cue another John Hughes film.

“I Don’t Live Here Anymore” continued expanding The War on Drugs’ growing audience. It propelled the album to No. 2 on Billboard’s Top Alternative Albums chart.

[RELATED: Top 10 Covers of Bob Dylan Songs]

Like a Rolling Stone

Adam Granduciel’s songwriting has been a journey at the threshold. His words sometimes fade into oceans of reverb and hazy repetition. There’s a universal appeal in opacity and ambiguity. Sometimes arena rock just needs to be a feeling. 

“I Don’t Live Here Anymore” is much-needed optimism. The band’s chemistry is magical and methodical. Knowing how Granduciel works, every sound has been examined. This isn’t a record of errant sounds but one meticulously crafted. He and co-producer Shawn Everett have perfected the art of pushing an album to its boundaries. Still, the work never sounds overdone. 

The War on Drugs is a band in command of its powers. “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” is the beauty and peace of resignation. 

Photo by Andrew Goodman/FilmMagic