I could write a few words here about the impressive musical pedigree of Danbert Nobacon and let it speak for itself, but that would detract from the wry humor and restrained angst of the smartbomb singalong protest song that is “Building a Wall,” and worse—it would discount Nobacon’s secret weapon, Kira Wood Cramer, a young chanteuse with whom he trades lines, snippets of lines, and off-kilter harmonies over a descending root four-chord motif that carries the tune from point A on one side of the border to point B on the other and back again, punctuated by a sort of chorus and circular outro that provide respite even while they raise the stakes.
I could also write out the song’s complete lyric (a work of world-class wordsmithing that manages to evoke fear, embarrassed giggles, and the need to listen again and again to fully grasp some of the double entendres and near-curses throughout), but material like this must be heard to be properly appreciated—besides, how could I spell out Nobacon’s half-assed maniacal (despotic?) laughter and even hope to convey the way its very tone represents a madman given to fits of unearned grandeur and wielding more power than any being was meant to? And throughout it all, Cramer’s calm tone keeps the song grounded and Nobacon in check, even when he’s throwing out immigrant/punk comparisons (romantic, artful, human, AND sexy) over her refrain of “not big, not clever—a wall? Let’s say, ‘not now, not ever! A wall? No way!’” Yes, this little tune is that unhinged.