A place for lyric
WHILST music without lyric is still music, what is lyric without music? Perhaps simply words, or a story, or a stand-alone poem? Is the work at a loss or does it mean vastly less, or regrettably nothing at all?
Sometimes, alas yes, it will seem reduced without a tune or melody, have little or no significance, (Nathan Carter take a bow!) but sometimes, most definitely, no! The words of the composition are striking enough to place a hook in our hearts and lodge in some spot in our minds and memories. Their meaning, their message, the picture they paint still resonate strongly. They have a value and a strength all of their own.
But when choosing lyrics and lyricists of merit that can be considered as major contributors to modern writing, where does one start? Or more accurately where does one stop? John Lennon, Roger Waters or Paul Simon? Paul Weller or Eminen? Cobain, Cohen or Marley? Noble Prize winner for Literature Bob Dylan? I could fill this page and still upset somebody! So lets pick one. Strip away the voice and the music and enjoy the written word.
‘Kentucky Avenue’ by Tom Waits, (from the album Blue Valentine, 1978) is a song about an untamed early childhood, growing up in a seedy neighbourhood of a small Californian town of the late 1950s or early 1960s.
A time when the wild imagination of children seemed more vibrant and alive. The neighbourhood was a world of intrigue and opportunity for divilment, and Waits, pictured below, is coaxing his buddy to join him once again in some mischief and mild law breaking.
He comes across as a Peter Pan, keen to ring-lead his merry two man gang on a trip of adventure and dare, down the street of bullet holes in cars, half packs of stolen cigarettes, of strip poker and switchblades.
Of fire trucks to chase and rattlesnakes to kill. Where there are shadowy trees that might be hunchbacks and loose girls that might put their tongues in your mouth!
Somewhere between the real and the imagined. Between child and teen. Lost Boys for real. I’ll get a dollar from my mama’s purse, buy that skull and crossbones ring,
‘And you can wear it round your neck, on an old piece of string’
But there is a great sadness in the lyric. It seems that his attempts to cajole his pal out are futile and increasingly desperate.
The innocence is ending and his friend is incapable of delving into the wider world which was now upping the ante.
Waits later recalled how he had little or no understanding of polio, the condition his friend suffered from and did not fully appreciate it’s debilitations, but did feel the deep pain and suffering it caused. The last few lines of the song are both poignant and desperate, but even if naive, somewhat heroic, in a young friends way. I’ll take the spokes from your wheelchair, and a magpie’s wings And I’ll tie ‘em to your shoulders and your feet.
I’ll steal a hacksaw from my Dad, cut the braces from your legs, And we’ll bury them tonight, out in the cornfield.
Just put a church key in your pocket, we’ll hop the freight train in the hall, and slide all the way down, to New Orleans in the Fall
Yes, for sure, the wonderful abrasive honesty of the unique Tom Waits voice may be missing, and the simple piano and orchestral crescendo, but the lyrics stand up. Maybe there is a space on our English curriculum for Lyric as we broaden and expand our young minds.