Never Mind The Words...

As a classical trained musician with 2 degrees and record producer by trade, the post below incompasses one of my long held blasphemous beliefs, one I'm sure you'll understand one kept to myself. It's a post I could have written someday, but never as well.

It's from a blog I became fond of awhile back. I admire the writing and attitude and sharp wit. I just have to keep reminding myself  to overlook they may be from Texas and hoping they're not a Longhorns Fan. 🤣- DS

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by Kim Du Toit @ Splendid Isolation

Never Mind the Words…or, as musicologists call them, “lyrics”.

"For the longest time, I’ve detested song lyrics.  I don’t mean specific lyrics, necessarily (although whoever penned the words in most Streisand songs deserves their own special circle of Hell), but all lyrics.

That’s because I love music, and lyrics are just a distraction from the art form.  It’s why the great paintings don’t contain expository words or speech bubbles — just a simple title suffices — and classical sculptures aren’t tattooed (although it’s only a question of time before they are, and I’m hoping that this can wait until after I’m dead).

Seriously:  somebody please enlighten me as to how Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, for instance, would be improved by a male or female warbler spouting some execrable nonsense over Ludwig’s deathless piano.

And as a one-time chorister, I have to make an exception for some (but not all) sacred music, e.g.  Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus  or Fauré’s Agnus Dei.  And even then, using the latter as an example, it’s the same three lines repeated ad nauseam anyway.

I have a special room of hatred in my heart for opera, because not only are the lyrics generally trite and awful, but unless you’re fluent in German and/or Italian, 90% of the art form is completely incomprehensible anyway.

“But the voice is just another instrument!”

My point exactly.  There’s nothing wrong with the singing;  it’s when you add words that the whole thing falls apart.

I also make exception when the lyrics are satirical or humorous — when the music’s job is just to make the words memorable by the addition of a melody.  A fine example of this is to be found in the works of Gilbert & Sullivan, e.g.:

For as a general rule we know / Two strings go to every bow;
Make up your mind what grief will bring / When you have two bows to every string!

No greater argument against bigamy was ever written.

Don’t get me started on modern music.  Take for example CSN’s Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, a love song supposedly written about Judy Collins — who ended up bedding two-thirds of the trio, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the young houri  bonked David Crosby as well (because it was the late 1960s).  The song is brilliant, the harmonies, well, CSN;  but the lyrics?

Friday evening / Sunday in the afternoon;
What have you got to lose?
Will you come see me / Thursday or Saturday?
What have I got to lose?

As sung by the boys, the lyrics sound wonderful;  but they’re incomprehensible rubbish.

Which brings me to Steely Dan. ...."

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