50 Here Lies Love The second song that stands out in the album is “American Troglodyte” not so much because of the music but because it is not really part of Imelda’s narrative. In Byrne’s notes, he describes it as “A song about the Marcoses’ counterparts in the U.S.” (Byrne 2010). Most of the stanzas in “American Troglodyte” list American signs of social advancement: “Americans are wearin’ those sexy jeans/Americans are usin’ technology/Americans are surfin’ that Internet/Americans are listenin’ to 50 Cent.” The listing of signs is alternated with lines from an imagined persona, an “I” who represents what it means to be American troglodytes. The persona’s lines are laden with irony, for instance, this stanza that alludes to America’s hypocrisy in its supposed global war against terrorism: “Ev’rybody knows me/They are drinkin’ to my health/I terrorized my fam’ly and I/Terrorized myself.” The song goes on to make a case against perceived American superiority, particularly in the closing stanza: “Americans are dancin’ in discothèques/Americans are payin’ their income tax/Americans are workin’ from 9 to 5/Americans are livin’ like troglodytes.” “American Troglodyte” interrupts Imelda’s narrative that binds the concept album, and in this way functions as a bonus/hidden track. The song may be read as the album’s internal critique. It interestingly precedes “Solano Avenue” and “Order 1081,” which may be understood as recognition of America’s fundamental role in the construction of neocolonial history. This self-critique, of course, is limited and brief. But to a certain degree, it points to the album’s self-awareness of its participation in the maintenance of the global dreamwork. On the Absence of Shoes The obvious absence of any reference to Imelda’s shoes cannot be ignored. Byrne explained that this was deliberately done because the scope of the album allows for the absence. The 3,000 pairs of shoes were discovered only after the Marcoses fled Malacanang. But the timeline is a flimsy excuse for the sake of a claim to artistic novelty. After all, this omitted sign was constructed during, not after, the album’s self-imposed period, as Imelda’s accumulation of shoes occurred while she was accumulating wealth and power. No matter how clichéd, Imelda’s collection of shoes remains as the most important signifier of Imelda’s crimes. While this Imeldific symbol of excess has been co-opted to serve the purpose of consumerism (“There’s a little Imelda in all of us” declares an infamous advertisement in a New York shoe store). Imelda’s shoes still serve as powerful signifiers of extravagance,