Content warning: Brief mention of depression, self-harm/suicide

I’ve wanted to write about Tennis and their song “Swimmer” for more than a year. I knew what the song meant and still means to me, I was confident in my interpretation, and I knew vaguely what I wanted to say. Still, I put off writing this for more than a year, and I’m glad I did, because I finally have the perspective needed to do it properly.

In March 2023, my friend Micah recommended the album Pollen by Tennis, which came out the prior month. Coincidentally, I just watched an episode of “What’s In My Bag,” a YouTube series produced by west-coast record store chain, Amoeba, featuring comedian and actor Matt Berry, in which he told a story about the band Tennis, meeting them, playing their music on piano, and more. Amoeba also used part of a song from Tennis’s 2020 album, Swimmer, in the video, and I remember liking what I heard, so I decided to go ahead and check out Pollen.

Pollen will eventually get posts of its own, but for now, I’ll say that it changed my life. I heard it shortly after a breakup that wreaked havoc on my mental and emotional health, and I like to think it helped me process those thoughts and feelings, though it may have just exacerbated some of them… Anyway, after an entire year of listening to almost nothing but Pollen, I started digging into Tennis’s older work.

For some reason, Swimmer took more time to get into than Pollen. The latter is about lost love, missed connections, and exploring the depths and meaning of one’s relationship with one’s partner. Swimmer is almost entirely about examining one’s relationship with their partner, accepting their partner’s shortcomings (and their own), and celebrating the triumph that is their relationship. One exception, strangely enough, is the title track.

Something I should get out of the way before diving in is that I firmly believe in the concept of the “death of the author,” which means I have little regard for the author’s/songwriter’s intent when interpreting their work. Having said that, I would like to include some information about “Swimmer” that I think is interesting and provides a little helpful context. I’m pulling the lyrics of the song from Genius, a website that hosts the lyrics to thousands of songs, allowing fans and artists alike to comment on them, including sharing facts and interpretations. The following information comes from annotations for the lyrics of “Swimmer” posted by Alaina Moore, lead singer of Tennis, on Genius.

For the second verse, Alaina had this to say:

"One year after his dad’s passing, Patrick and I found ourselves sailing through the night under a blood red lunar eclipse to small cove called Bahia de Los Muertos. We were the only boat in the harbor and spent the day celebrating his father’s life. It was unplanned. It felt like synchronicity."

Also:

"for some reason, still not sure why, I felt like learning how to swim would be one way to honor his memory."

Another interesting tidbit from verse one:

"swimming and dying–both are supposedly effortless. my fear of water was so encompassing at the time that swimming and death were synonymous to me."

With all of that out of the way, allow me to offer my interpretation of “Swimmer”: “Swimmer” is a song about expectations and performances. It’s about performing for others, sometimes performing without thought, recognizing some performance as unsuitable for oneself, and taking steps to understand and start performing for oneself and finding happiness in that. What does “performance” mean, though? According to Merriam-Webster, “performance” is defined as “the execution of an action,” “something accomplished,” “the fulfillment of a claim, promise, or request,” or “the action of representing a character in a play,” among a few other definitions. Keep these in mind as we examine the lyrics.

Some summer you have planned for me
Look at all these tourists as they flock to the sea
Gettin' in the water like it's nothing
But it's not without a consequence

In this first half of verse one, we understand that there is someone in particular Alaina is addressing, someone who has plans for her. It seems likely the plans have something to do with swimming, as Alaina describes tourists “flocking” to get in the water “like it’s nothing.” For these tourists, diving in the water and swimming takes little to no thought, no consideration, but Alaina recognizes the potential consequences of swimming.

I hear it comes quite naturally
But that description doesn't fit with me
Not going over, never going under
Not without a consequence

For the tourists, swimming is like breathing, but for Alaina, it’s something so alien that she can’t picture herself doing it. She finds swimming scary, incompatible with who she is as a person. The potential consequences of swimming can be positive or negative, but Alaina would rather avoid the act entirely.

The narrows, the river
Empty into the sea

Some summer you have planned for me Emptied into the sea

In the pre-chorus and chorus, Alaina tells the person with plans for her to let them go, “empty [them] into the sea.”

Such a good man, had a good job
I'd take up swimming for the Patriarch
Now dispersed so casually like sediment into the sea
The swollen moon all flushed with red
One eclipse away from the bay of the dead
It ain't right, I'm telling you
It's more than coincidence

The first two lines in verse two come off as sarcastic or insincere to me. They sound like the sort of thing an angsty teen would say in response to pressure from a parent to do something they don’t want to do. Well, of course I’ll drop all my plans and take up swimming! Dad’s such a great guy with his great job, so it’s the least I could do! It’s not like I’m my own person or anything! The third line references Alaina’s desire from the chorus for this person to let go of their plans for her, this time with the imagery of “dispersing” the plans “like sediment into the sea.” It’s clear to me that the person Alaina addresses throughout is this “Patriarch” figure.

As she stands there, observing the tourists in the water, a red moon appears, forewarning Alaina of the “bay of the dead.” Recognizing this as “more than coincidence,” she understands swimming as tantamount to dying.

One stroke at a time, on my way back to land
It's better for me with my feet in the sand

Before the chorus ends the song, we get the above bridge, which is our one glimmer of hope for Alaina. In it, she finds herself out of the water, standing “with [her] feet in the sand,” where things are “better for [her].” At this point, she may not have her own plans, but she at least recognizes the plans that were made for her are a poor fit and has abandoned them.

My understanding of the song is this: Alaina’s father wanted her to be a swimmer. We never learn his motivations, but what’s important is that Alaina doesn’t want to be a swimmer. She’s scared to swim and of the water itself. She would much rather figure out her own role than adhere to the expectations of someone else.

Swimming could be understood as a type of performance. After all, actions are executed when one swims and something is accomplished by the end of it. In fact, just about everything we do could be understood as performance. In “Swimmer,” Alaina expresses her desire to avoid the pressure to deliver a performance she’s uncomfortable with and instead discover what it means to perform for herself. It’s a question we owe it to ourselves to ask. What does it mean to perform for myself? The answer is different for everyone.

I found myself putting on all kinds of performances before now. I performed the role of student to make my family proud. I performed the role of Christian to keep from being disowned. And I performed the role of “straight, cis man” for two decades because of what I was taught and what was expected of me. In that time, not once did I consider the consequences of these performances or question them in any way. I was a tourist in my own life.

Unlike Alaina, I saw the red moon over the horizon and tried to ignore it. Every time it reminded me of its presence—a subject in school I struggled with, a discomforting Bible verse, dissociating while staring at myself in a mirror—I shrugged it off as a necessary aspect of life: No one gets to be exactly who they want to be or do exactly what they want to do. Everyone has to do things that make them uncomfortable. Everyone has to do as they’re told.

Eventually, I arrived at the conclusion of my path. I understood the meaning of the red moon: as someone on the verge of suicide, I stared directly into that moon every morning. I had a job I hated, lived in a town I hated, and was dating someone I hated. I lived by myself in a blank, white apartment. I spent my free time getting high, playing video games, and watching YouTube videos. I had nothing to live for and was deeply depressed. By the end of 2023, my choices were either to embrace the red moon or make some drastic changes in my life.

After 31 years on Earth, I finally realized and accepted who I really was, so in January 2024, I came out as a trans woman to friends, family, and coworkers. It was a terrifying moment. One of the few times in my life that I made a decision exclusively for my own benefit. Something I wasn’t used to doing. Suddenly, memories and various elements of my character made more sense. I started seeing life in a new light. I found myself with a reason to live.

In addition, I found songs written by women far more relatable than ever before. I’d been listening to female artists for years and enjoyed so many songs and albums, but it was like I was listening to them for the first time all over again. It was then that I first listened to “Swimmer,” instantly recognizing it as a song about coming out. It’s a song about eschewing the expectations placed upon oneself by family or society and finding one’s place in life, where one can be happy.

To Alaina, “Swimmer” is probably about overcoming her fear of swimming to honor her late father-in-law. As a trans woman, that I would say it’s about discovering happiness through coming out and embracing one’s true identity, recognizing performance for what it is, and taking time to figure out what performing for oneself means only makes sense, though I’m still working on that last one.

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