Pat McAfee’s ‘Dookie’: A lyrical analysis

“What IS art? Is art art?”

That was a refrain one of my meathead high school friends repeated anytime we tried to think critically about a film, TV show, book, or public artwork. It was his way of puncturing the contemplative nature of our conversation, either because he had nothing to add or because it did make him think deeply, but doing so made him uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking about that ever since I listened to Pat McAfee’s recording debut, “Dookie,” which hit streaming services overnight.

Unlike my friend, I’ve dabbled in artistic criticism over the years. I’ve reviewed films, TV shows, food, and architecture, finding the inherent value in what an artist or artisan creates and what that creation attempts to say to the broader world.

While McAfee is known as an athlete, host, and performer, he hasn’t received much credit for his artistic merit. However, “Dookie” is, in fact, a creative endeavor, an expression of one man’s journey of self-discovery through a world that doesn’t always understand him.

I wondered, while watching the words “Dookie” continuously flash across my screen, what Pat is really trying to say here. What’s underneath the Dookie? What does it say about the man, his wants, and his hopes and dreams? And as we stare back into the Dookie, what does it say about us?

I’m all the way in Eugene.

Smoking on some new green.

Right off the bat, we’re thrust into the present moment like a cold splash of water to the face. Pat finds himself in Eugene, Oregon, home of the Oregon Ducks. He is there as part of College GameDay, an iconic show that he has remade in his own image, and now that image reflects upon him. He’s not just there, he’s “all the way” there, in this “new green.” In a time and space so deep he knows not where it begins and ends. Like the Oregon Duck, he simply is.

A surface reading might suggest that Pat is saying he’s smoking cannabis. However, we know that green represents growth, health, renewal, money, and prosperity. And for him, this is all “new green,” signifying that he finds himself in balance with the universe, a strange but appreciated sensation.

Changing up the routine

Feel like new school dean.

McAfee could have chosen any metaphor to describe how he feels about his station in life, but he specifically chose “new school dean.” Perhaps a reference to the rich fullness of university life, something that still seems to appeal to him as an adult. In this way, Pat remains young and carefree while also being in charge of the institution. It’s an intriguing juxtaposition. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, no?

Life’s pretty cool, G

Gratitude truly

Who is G, we might wonder? That question is answered immediately as “Gratitude.” Who better to walk hand-in-hand through life with?

Three jobs

Few means

Perhaps the most mystifying lyric in the song. Three jobs are apparent, as McAfee splits his time between his eponymous show, College GameDay, and WWE. But what can we infer from “few means?” It is often said that the ends justify the means, meaning that the outcome can be rationalized by the efforts taken to achieve it. In the wake of mentioning gratitude, it’s curious to hear that he feels that he no longer has or needs those efforts. The ends, perhaps, have been achieved.

Tank top

Blue jeans. Never change.

As he walks this new and lucrative path that fulfills him, Pat feels no need to change. No need to sleeve himself. He casts away the bondage of khakis. He refuses the call of the suit-and-tie. He is free.

Crew needs

Deep shots, few screens

What is a man without companionship? “A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you,” said American writer Elbert Hubbard. That is what Pat craves and, like his friends, “needs.” And in a callback to his football days, he uses offensive schemes as a metaphor for how to live one’s life, by throwing the ball deep, as it were, more often than checking down to your running back for a short gain. Wise words. 

Movie star, two scenes

Bank account juicy

Pat is a poet first and foremost, but he is human. He is not above the clarion call of Hollywood and fame. He is human, after all. And he has human wants, such as a sizable financial nest egg. In this way, he is relatable while also attaining unrelatable goals. He is our better, and yet, one of us. One would not be out of line to compare him to Leonardo Da Vinci.

Cancelled? Who me?

Boogeyman spooky

Ah, but fame and success are fickle beasts. And Pat knows all too well the pitfalls that come with them, for he has suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Like Hamlet, McAfee ponders aloud if he should “take arms against a sea of troubles. And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep.” And who awaits you when you sleep? The boogeyman. The levels here in McAfee’s words stretch deep.

Folks watch

Who sees

Hatin’ fucks

Dookie

And so we arrive at McAfee’s thesis statement. He sets the table by inviting us, the common folk, to watch, while wondering to himself, “Who sees?” Sees what? Sees him? Sees his enemies? Sees that by seeing him, they are becoming his enemy? And what is the enemy of my enemy? My friend.

And now, we are cradled in Pat’s friendship as he launched his attack on those who would stand against him. These “hatin’ fucks,” are described crudely, but they represent the crudeness of their criticisms. In this instance, Pat decides to fight crude with crude, not because he wants to, but because you must meet your opponent where they are. They ARE the Dookie, and therefore deserve to be met with such.

Yeah, you hatin’

Yeah, you hatin’ fuuuuuuucks

Dookie

Yeah, you hatin’ fuuuuuuucks

Dookie

Pat’s attack is relentless and unyielding. He is signaling in this moment that, despite all his success, gratitude, newness, and appreciation for life, he is still the same small boy, wishing for a better day, pushing back against paternal figures who might prevent him from being who he truly is. And so he calls out into the obsidian darkness, begging them to harken to his voice, so that he may expel his frustrations and desires upon them. He expels it. He expels his “Dookie.”

Yeah, I’m up here in Eugene

Smoking on some new green

Checking out some new scenes

And you hatin’ fucks

In the end, Pat brings the listener back to the beginning, back to where it all began. Time, he seems to be saying, has no relevance here. We are all battling against the unknowable and unattainable, and the best you can do is keep shouting into the void.

It’s subtle, but McAfee does make one change here. Whereas the initial lyric was “Changing up the routine,” he is now “Checking out some new scenes.” The statements are similar, but upon closer inspection, we can see the subtle difference. At the beginning of the song, McAfee shares a desire to end what has been normalized. But as far as we can tell, his passion does not evolve into action. Now, he is actively choosing to explore “new scenes.” He is no longer a passenger; he is now the driver. He decides where he goes from here. He has metamorphosed, like a butterfly. And he is free.

Dookie [x4]

The repetitive nature of the “Dookie” chorus suggests that this journey and this cycle continue evermore. As Pat flies away on a gust of clean-smelling air, we are the ones left in the dookie and left to consider not what has gone wrong for us, but how things can be better. How we can ascend, just as Pat has.