Late last year, the track “Figure 8” by body/negative crossed my path, a piece that felt both familiar and utterly new. This seemingly ambient single possessed an arresting quality, instantly triggering a potent sense of nostalgia. The source of this feeling became clear upon discovering it was a cover of an Elliott Smith song, a song unfamiliar to me at the time. The real revelation, however, was that Smith’s rendition itself was an interpretation of a Schoolhouse Rock! track from the 1970s. Penned by Bob Dorough, the composer behind many Schoolhouse Rock! classics, and brought to life by jazz vocalist Blossom Dearie, this disarming lullaby depicts a student’s daydream during math class. The lyrics cleverly weave multiplication tables into whimsical, gymnastic fantasies. While not as universally recognized as Schoolhouse Rock! anthems like “I’m Just a Bill” or “Conjunction Junction,” “Figure Eight” is a deep cut that has resonated profoundly within the cultural consciousness, particularly for those who encountered it in their formative years.
Blossom Dearie singing Figure Eight
But did this educational rock song truly remain a niche memory? A recent second encounter with “Figure Eight” in popular culture, specifically as the beat underpinning Tame One’s 2003 track “Concerto,” (released the same year T-Rock also borrowed the sample), sparked further investigation. This led to the recollection of a previous encounter with the sample: its bold inclusion, lyrics and all, in a poignant and unsettling scene from The Squid and the Whale. In this film, Jeff Daniels’ young son, left home alone, experiments with whiskey and contraceptives while the seemingly innocent multiplication tables play, highlighting the song’s inherent duality – its responsible, educational facade masking a strangely unsettling undertone. Beyond direct covers by Smith and body/negative, the cultural impact of this Schoolhouse Rock! track appears to lean heavily into this latter, more enigmatic quality. Its presence within the Def Jux universe, a collective known for its introspective and often darker themes, was foreshadowed by earlier hip-hop tracks that engaged with subject matter far weightier than the boastful verses of “Concerto.”
Tame One using Figure Eight sample
Before Elliott Smith, another Smith, Big Willy, tapped into the jazzy essence of “Figure Eight” for his track “Afro Angel” from his Y2K-era album – the same year the Schoolhouse Rock! tune also surfaced in a PsychoDrama single. Will Smith’s “Afro Angel,” with its near spoken-word narratives of the challenges faced in Black American life (ironically mirroring, in a way, the struggles of privileged white youth in The Squid and the Whale), subtly incorporates a “Figure Eight” sample. The sample, initially almost imperceptible in the looped instrumental, gains prominence during the chorus. Even more subtly, and arguably ahead of its time, “Figure Eight” received a credit on The Fugees’ 1996 album The Score. This came shortly after a brief period in early 90s hip-hop where the sample served as an intro for albums and was noticeably woven into the sonic DNA of others.
The Fugees album The Score
Considering this extensive history, it becomes ambiguous whether artists like Princess Nokia are consciously referencing Schoolhouse Rock! or any of the aforementioned rappers when they utilize a prominent “Figure Eight” sample, as heard in her 2017 single “Goth Kid.” This track simultaneously evokes the raw energy of early Tyler, the Creator and anticipates the convergence of rap with alternative fashion trends. Perhaps aligning it with the Diamond D and Compton’s Most Wanted tracks of the early 90s, “Goth Kid” appears on an album titled 1992 Deluxe. At this juncture, the specific reference point seems less crucial. The Schoolhouse Rock! song, this unexpected [Rock Song] from an educational program, has transcended its origins and become an ethereal element within our broader culture, moving beyond concrete associations. It is likely that Princess Nokia’s “Goth Kid” will not be the final iteration of “Figure Eight” we encounter, as our culture perpetually revisits and reimagines its own artifacts.
