babble, burble, banter, bicker, brouhaha, balderdash, ballyhoo

One part of music that I often obsess over is the role of lyrics - both for me, and for people generally. I'm pretty sure that lyrics work differently for me than they do for most listeners, although exactly how those approaches differ is unclear to me - necessarily, since I'm not "most listeners."

Generally, I pay far less attention to lyrical content in reacting to a song, or even in evaluating it, than I suspect most people do. This might be surprising - given that I teach writing and have an MA (not quite a Ph.D.) in English - but my immersion in music supersedes my interest in writing both in duration and in intensity. This doesn't mean I ignore lyrics entirely - any number of these blogulent entries focus on song lyrics - and it certainly doesn't mean I downplay the role of voice in music - but the singing voice is more like another instrument to me, just one that, sometimes, is articulated in a way that bears more specific meaning than strictly musical instruments can manage.

I think the primacy of sound in my response to music can be traced to the fact that I am a musician - or more accurately, that I think and hear like a musician. Yes, I can play a couple different instruments with some discernible degree of competence - but I'm more a musician in my head than I am on the keyboard or fretboard. I hear analytically, harmonically, and to a lesser degree structurally. I think what this means, where lyrics are concerned, is that I have less analytical/logical brain functioning available to parse lyrics, since more than a non-musician listener, I'm processing sound with those parts of my brain. In a way, I hear lyrics emotively, associatively, impressionistically; it's the music that I respond to in terms of logic, narrative, and other aspects characteristic of the verbal, narrative part of the brain. I suspect this because, in fact, it's extraordinarily hard for me to focus on lyrics (without a lyric sheet): it's nearly impossible for me not to get distracted by some musical phenomenon. It's like trying to add a column of figures while someone's chanting out loud a string of random digits: too much interference.

Another example illustrating the way I approach music: I tend to abstract what a song is, what a melody line is, into chord shapes or the gist of a tune, rather than knowing exactly how a chord is voiced or what the melody is (at least initially). I was struck by this years ago, back in high school when I accompanied a girl I knew who was auditioning for a choir. We worked up a version of Kate Bush's "The Man with the Child in His Eyes," and I was struck that Vicki sang the melody exactly as Kate Bush did: every little grace note, every little melismatic wiggle. To me, the melody line was some abstraction of what Bush actually sang (the point of melody lines is for a singer to elaborate on them); to Vicki (who wasn't a trained musician), the melody was what Kate Bush sang. There could be no question of abstracting it: the notes are what what the notes were.

This predilection of mine has some effects on what I value in lyrics. I'm generally bored by lyrics that are too direct, too literal, too narrative: the music is already telling me a story; if the lyrics are just reduplicating it, what's the point? I'd rather have them exist in a tension with the music, to a degree of counterpoint with whatever emotional tale the sounds are telling - or at least not insist on pummeling me about the head with their bulging freight of meaning. Good lyrics to me don't necessarily make literal sense, but they should be suggestive, associative, in a semi-coherent (i.e., semi- open-ended) fashion that allows the music to continue in its primary role, or that complements the emotional, associative narrative of the music.

I should probably qualify or define that word "emotional," since its typical usage is so debased and stereotypical. I don't mean the sort of easy one-to-one correspondences - epitomized by the stereotypical use of a theme from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet suite to establish romance, for instance - that typify bad movie music and American Idol audition pieces. I simply mean that music has developed a culturally specific, highly resonant, yet non-deterministic sonic language - one whose field of play is, broadly speaking, the emotions. Because it lacks anything even approaching a standard, "literal" meaning, and because it is highly context dependent (an E-flat on its own has even less "literal" meaning than, say, the word "note"), it's not very good at engaging logic or rationality (despite the best efforts of certain musicologists to dress it in the rationality of mathematical relationships) but very effective at engaging a broad range of emotions - broader, in fact, than language as such can access. (Language, I'd argue, does a poor job of organizing emotion.)

So I tend to respond to bits and pieces of lyrics: resonant phrases, phrases whose sound complements the music or rhythm they accompany, or phrases that evoke ideas or feelings that work with the sonic palette surrounding them. What's curious is that songwriters, I think, often approach lyrics in a similar way - and the evidence for that is that the better ones can pull up or deemphasize lyrics, whatever best serves the song. Obviously, a song with a minimal or repetitive musical backing, whose lyrics are not minimal or repetitive, will foreground the lyrics. Obviously, a repeated phrase will foreground itself. And obviously, if a singer wants people to hear the words, placing the vocal prominently in the mix will go a long way toward achieving that goal. But I think there are subtler means songwriters avail themselves of: they might, for example, foreground some lyrics by allowing the vocal to be the only sound in its frequency range (dropping out everything but the bass, say). Conversely, if the idea is for the vocals to be more sound than sense, they might be mixed lower and blended with a raft of guitars (My Bloody Valentine is a fine example: usually, the singing is just another instrument). I find that if a songwriter is a good lyricist, that quality comes in two flavors: either the songwriter knows it and wants to emphasize it - and therefore I'm likelier to hear, notice, and actually pay attention to the lyrics - or they prefer to surprise, even to the extent of de-emphasizing the lyrics. For me, though, in the second approach, if the lyrics avoid cliche and (once I finally get around to knowing what they are) work well with the musical mood, I find them even more fulfilling than in the standard approach of putting the singing front and center (see, for instance, most folk music). Brian Eno, for example, is a better lyricist in my book than most folk singers - even though he's said time and again that his lyrics are there primarily to give him something to sing (when he feels like singing). But the lyrics he arrives at almost invariably serve the sonic mood of the song - and are often quite evocative and rigorously avoid cliche - and for me, succeed admirably, even when I do only read them on the page. (That's probably a minority opinion.)

So how do most people treat lyrics? As I said, I can't really know - but it seems to me they view the lyrics as the song, and the music as the lyrics' accompaniment. Certainly this is true for most journalists - who are, of course, generally trained as writers, not musicians - and even when they are musicians, their medium as journalists is words, and so is much better equipped to address lyrics than sound. (Recall the Elvis Costello quotation that serves as the source for my glob's name.) The result is, to me, a weird distortion in the critical lens, seen at its most extreme in the high-classical Rolling Stone reviews of the seventies, wherein a reader just landed from Mars might be forgiven for thinking that Rolling Stone was actually in the business of reviewing short stories or novels that just happened to have some noise going on in the background.

But who buys music solely, or even primarily, for the lyrics? (I suppose some folk-singer types might - and possibly some rap fans, but the emphasis placed on rappers' flow and skills ought to suggest that it's not only the words, but their delivery - and hence musicality, if only in the realm of rhythm - that matter to rap connoisseurs.) I mean if Paul Simon (here used as synecdoche for "songwriter who emphasizes his lyrics") put out a new record backed by the Boredoms, I don't think many of his fans would go for it - even if his singing (and hence the lyrics) were mixed well to the fore, and even if his lyrics were up to his fans' standards.

However, going back to what I said earlier about music as emotive language: what does matter to fans of Very Popular Music is probably the degree to which that sonic backdrop accords with their highly structured notions of what kind of sounds are supposed to go with particular types of lyrical content. (I know that it's - to quote another website, sorry can't recall where - "so February" to cite mash-ups, but part of the joy of mash-ups is the way their Frankensteined musical context can deliciously subvert what we assumed the lyrics were about in their original sonic contours.) So in fact, it's hard to judge: maybe it's less that Paul Simon fans hate the music of the Boredoms as that those sounds don't fit the sort of sonic reportoire those fans expect. Because in fact, Paul Simon has changed musical backdrops quite a bit during his career - more than, probably, most fans or even critics give him credit for, even back in the Simon & Garfunkel days. It's just that he drew from sonic wells that weren't terribly alien to his short-story writer's sensibility. (The Boredoms might be some short-story writer's sensibility...but not Paul Simon's.)

So I think one reason I think about these issues is that I'm continually discovering that I don't know more than a line or two of songs I've known for twenty years, songs whose sonic contours I otherwise know by heart. A few key phrases pop through, and the sound of the line is usually pretty clear - but the actual words often surprise me. It's as if all singers were Michael Stipe on the first couple of R.E.M. albums!

Bush Lies; Dog Bites Man; Water Wet

To the surprise of no sentient being, the Bush Administration has reneged on yet another promise in announcing that Iraq will have only "limited sovereignty" as of the June 30 date it had previously set for that nation's putative independence. In this announcement, the Bushites continue their weaselization of the language: sovereignty that is "limited" is not sovereignty at all, of course, which includes "supremacy of authority or rule" and "complete independence and self-government" (citing dictionary.com). Thus the administration continues its utter contempt for everything, including sheer reality, except itself and its economic and ideological cohort.

rated R for some language

I love the phrase "substance abuse" - it has a certain metaphysical vagueness, as if it's a malady from a Philip K. Dick novel. "Controlled substance" is nearly as good: we're not sure what it is, but it's controlled, don't you worry. In the same category is "content provider," even though that one's been commented to death already. And then there's "graphic violence," which in my sometimes overly literalist mind brings about images of triangles brutally puncturing circles or something.

Some of these come from the school of quasi-legalistic jargon that believes any Latinate term is automatically more authoritative than an Anglo term; a popular program in that school would be cop-speak. A friend of mine posted a couple of hilarious examples; one of the better ones involves a person getting out of a car. That's how we'd say it in English. In cop-speak, one "exits the vehicle." Advanced users favor an alternate verb tense: "did exit the vehicle." And the truly gifted, they would write "did proceed to exit the vehicle."

refinancing a pound of cure

A local health-care concern has put up a billboard a couple miles from my house, in which it implies that some program it runs will "prevent knee injuries before they happen."

Which, of course, is very much easier than preventing them after they happen.

reflecting pool

Except that I'm too lazy to put in all the URLs, I think I'll for this week change my glob-thing to various guest-shots in the comment areas of other people's bolg-things. It's all very postmodern and meta-referential, doncha think. But there many of them are, linked to your right.

Coincidence time: my sister-in-law's family was in town, and near-16-year-old Mary is a book fiend, so of course we had to hit Borders. (Look - I would've taken her to a local store, but time/geographical constraints and hey, she's sixteen and thinks Borders is heaven. I'll write her a letter and tell her to patronize the local shops, 'kay?) Anyway, I see the new Modest Mouse is on sale for ten bucks, and there's the new TMBG disc right next to it at a reasonable price, so I buy 'em both. (Am I going to hell yet? Epic Records should: I hate it when record companies insist on sticking stupid little promotional stickers on the jewelbox itself, instead of on the plastic wrap. And what's worse, they use the non-removable kind. Fortunately, I'm the kind of geek that has a zillion spare jewelboxes sitting around the house. Anyway.) Looking through the lyrics, I notice the phrase "lost the plot" in larger print on the Modest Mouse disc...and oddly, that phrase occurs in one of the TMBG songs too. (Lovely cover of "Caroline, No" there, by the way.)

In utterly other news: some friends are getting ready to move to NYC, and since they're both (Caroline in particular) thrift-shop fiends and collectors, they have way more stuff than they can move. So they had a big rummage sale. And I bought an accordion. Updates once I learn to actually play it.

in lieu of actual content

Too busy. So, just this list of today's CD purchases:

Air - Talkie Walkie
All Night Radio - Spirit Stereo Frequency
The Asteroid No. 4 - King Richard's Collectibles
SchneiderTM - 6 Peace EP (used)
Seely - Seconds (used)
Stereolab - Margerine Eclipse

Cat count:
3 (All Night Radio)
1 (The Asteroid No. 4)
Honorable mention: image of "Pussy Parfums" in Air packaging

Plus: one (1) goat (Air)

throwing things at the election

It's an election day here in Wisconsin, and so for the past few weeks we've been bombarded with the usual well-meaning civic-mindedness that encourages us to vote. I'd agree, but...isn't it more important that voters be informed first? If you're just going to go in there and vote for somebody you know nothing about, except you vaguely remember that he once said something you thought was kind of good, well, wouldn't it be better if you didn't vote at all for that office and let the people who actually know who they're voting for elect that position?

So, I propose a polling-place intelligence test. It's quite simple: sell lottery tickets. If anyone buys one, they're too stupid to vote.

And what have we learned this week?

That when a highly regarded and high-ranking security expert counsels paying more attention to a strong likelihood of serious threats from a known terrorist organization, the Bush administration ignores it - but when David Letterman plays a videotape of 13-year-old Tyler Crotty becoming fidgety at a Bush fundraiser, the administration will go out of its way to tell CNN, twice, to lie about the provenance of the videotape.

Clearly, this administration knows no peer when it comes to threat assessment.

Ah but I was so much younger then - I'm older than that now

Sean over at Said the Gramophone has posted an intriguing list culled from a survey conducted by a professor at McGill University. The professor surveyed the 200 students in his lecture on their favorite bands. Unsurprisingly (to me, at least, who teaches college students and therefore sees their taste, as reflected in ballcaps, t-shirts, and bumper stickers, on a daily basis), the top act is Dave Matthews Band. Slightly surprising (again given my unscientific cap-and-shirt poll) is the relatively low standing of Phish. Some surprises: Ben Harper? And Louis Armstrong placing in the top 30? Or The Band? (Although that might be a Canadian Content entry - certainly The Tragically Hip are.)

What's most pathetic to me about the list is how incredibly backward-looking it is. More than half the acts have recording careers older than most of these students, and about a quarter of the acts cumulatively reap an impressive death toll of at least 15 (sorry: I'm incapable of remembering exactly how many members of the Grateful Dead are that). At one level it's great that college students are interested in some kind of history (real history, they know next to nothing about), but yeesh: I'm twenty years older than them and I think the list skews Matlock-ward.

I think the list also suggests a serious indictment of the music industry. College students are, or ought to be, a key demographic for music sales: they have time, and fewer financial obligations, and their identities are still in flux, all of which spell "desirable demographic" to most product-pushers. But not the music industry: no, they're too busy pursuing ever-younger demographics, leaving this prime audience all but untapped. How many acts being given big major-label promo work in styles similar to the ones preferred by these students, or display clear influences of those acts? Not that many - otherwise, I'm not sure why so many college students are apparently more fulfilled digging through their parents' record collections (or their grandparents' forchrissakes) than buying new music (even if it's new old-music music).

The list also suggests that rock-critic consensus is at an all-time low in terms of actual influence on key music-buying demographics. With the exceptions of Outkast and Radiohead, none of these acts get much in the way of contemporary critical grape-peeling.

I'd be curious, though, to see how sales of AARP-rock stack up against the various Billboard non-catalog charts. I suspect that a lot of these acts are massively downloaded, rather than purchased, especially given how readily available those acts' songs are. But then, why would you want to pay for records that are thirty to forty years old? I'm wondering if there has ever been a time when college students' tastes have veered so drastically retro as this poll suggests.

Of course, the poll is hardly a scientifically reliable sample, and without knowing the circumstances under which it was conducted, I couldn't say what kinds of biases might have been built in. (For instance, the extent to which the students might have felt compelled to reflect the professor's own tastes, or whether the course topic pre-selected students inclined to like older music: "Rock Music of the Sixties," say.) But a lot of the poll's results accord with my more general impressions gleaned from my students - so I suspect it's fairly accurate.

The Wrens, live!

Here's a review I wrote of the Wrens' show in Minneapolis from a few weeks ago (scroll down to the bottom of the page). Thanks to Tone and Groove's proprietor, Jen Grover, who twisted my arm to get me to write this one up.