As most of you know, I'm a die hard Mark Knopfler fan - I think he's one of the great musicians of all time and I can listen to his music, both his thought provoking lyrics and incredible guitar, over and over without ever getting bored.
But, since I've got Beastly spending the summer here at Stonekettle Station, I try to vary the music in the shop a bit more than I usually do when I'm alone out there.
Today it's been mostly a Jimmy Buffet kind of day.
You know, it's been a while since I listened to the old Parrot Head, and I'd forgotten just how great some of his lyrics are.
Take this one from A Pirate Looks at Forty:
Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
The cannons don't thunder, there's nothin' to plunder
I'm an over-forty victim of fate
Arriving too late, arriving too late
But I've done a bit of smugglin',
I've run my share of grass
Made enough money to buy Miami,
but I pissed it away so fast
Never meant to last, never meant to last
I've always loved that song, but now that I'm well into my late forties it really strikes a chord with me.
Another all time favorite is this bit from My Heads Hurts:
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus
It's that kind of morning
Really was that kind of night
Trying to tell myself that my condition is improving
And if I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roarin' Friday night
See, that's the thing about Buffet, we've all been there. And really only Jimmy Buffet could come up with this:
So, anyway today's question is this: Who do you consider a great lyricist and why. Give two examples.
Oh, and yeah, try not to be an asshole.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
10 comments:
Comments on this blog are moderated. Each will be reviewed before being allowed to post. This may take a while. I don't allow personal attacks, trolling, or obnoxious stupidity. If you post anonymously and hide behind an IP blocker, I'm a lot more likely to consider you a troll. Be sure to read the commenting rules before you start typing. Really.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Springsteen, of course:
ReplyDeleteWe gotta stay cool tonight, Eddie
`Cause man, we got ourselves out on that line
And if we blow this one
They ain't gonna be looking for just me this time
And all we gotta do is hold up our end
Here stuff this in your pocket
It'll look like you're carrying a friend
And remember, just don't smile
Change your shirt, `cause tonight we got style
Second Example:
Workin' in the fields
till you get your back burned
Workin' `neath the wheel
till you get your facts learned
Baby I got my facts
learned real good right now
Thank you, Nathan, you've identified the start of tomorrow's line up :)
ReplyDeleteYou're oh, so welcome.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many to chose from, but I'll limit it to three:
ReplyDeleteBob Dylan:
It ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An' it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
I'm on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin' you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin' anyway
So don't think twice, it's all right
and
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Made everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
It's only people's games that you got to dodge
And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.
Then there's Leonard Cohen:
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
and
Now the flames they followed Joan of Arc
As she came riding through the dark;
No moon to keep her armor bright,
No man to get her through this very smoky night.
She said, I'm tired of the war,
I want the kind of work I had before,
A wedding dress or something white
To wear upon my swollen appetite.
Well, I'm glad to hear you talk this way,
You know Ive watched you riding every day
And something in me yearns to win
Such a cold and lonesome heroine.
And who are you? she sternly spoke
To the one beneath the smoke.
Why, I'm fire, he replied,
And I love your solitude, I love your pride.
Then fire, make your body cold,
I'm going to give you mine to hold,
Saying this she climbed inside
To be his one, to be his only bride.
And deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of Joan of Arc,
And high above the wedding guests
He hung the ashes of her wedding dress.
It was deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of Joan of Arc,
And then she clearly understood
If he was fire, oh then she must be wood.
I saw her wince, I saw her cry,
I saw the glory in her eye.
Myself I long for love and light,
But must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?
Finally, Al Stewart:
On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat
and
The wands of smoke are rising
From the walls of the Bastille
And through the streets of Paris
Runs a sense of the unreal
The Kings have all departed
There servants are nowhere
We burned out their mansions
In the name of Robespierre
And still we wait
To see the day begin
Our time is wasting in the wind
Wondering why
Wondering why, it echoes
Through the lonely palace of Versailles
Inside the midnight councils
The lamps are burning low
On you sit and talk all through the night
But there's just no place to go
And Bonaparte is coming
With his army from the south
Marat your days are numbered
And we live hand to mouth
While we wait
To see the day begin
Our time is wasting in the wind
Wondering why
Wondering why, it echoes
Through the lonely palace of Versailles
The ghost of revolution
Still prowls the Paris streets
Down all the restless centuries
It wonders incomplete
It speaks inside the cheap red wine
Of cafe summer nights
Its red and amber voices
Call the cars at traffic lights
Why do you wait
To see the day begin
Your time is wasting in the wind
Wondering why
Wondering why, it echoes
Through the lonely palace of Versailles
Tom Waits
ReplyDelete#1
Well you play that tarantella all the hounds will start to roar
The boys all go to hell and then the Cubans hit the floor
They drive along the pipeline, they tango 'til they're sore
They take apart their nightmares and they leave them by the door
Let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair
Deal out Jacks or Better on a blanket by the stairs
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past
And send me off to bed for evermore
Make sure they play my theme song, I guess daisies will have to do
Just get me to New Orleans and paint shadows on the pews
Turn the spit on that pig and kick the drum and let me down
Put my clarinet beneath your bed 'til I get back in town
Let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair
Deal out Jacks or Better on a blanket by the stairs
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past
So send me off to bed for evermore
#2
Well, they call me William the Pleaser
I sold opium, fireworks and lead
Now I'm telling my troubles to strangers
When the shadows get long I'll be dead
Now, her hair was as black as a bucket of tar
Her skin as white as a cuttlefish bone
I left Texas to follow Lucinda
Now I'll never see heaven or home
I made a wish on a sliver of moonlight
A sly grin and a bowl full of stars
Like a kid who captures a firefly
And leaves it only to die in the jar
As I kick at the clouds at my hanging
As I swing out over the crowd
I will search every face for Lucinda's
And she will go off with me down to hell
I thought I'd broke loose of Lucinda
The rain returned and so did the wind
I cast this burden on the god that's within me
And I'll leave this old world and go free
The devil dances inside empty pockets
But she never wanted money or pearls
No, that wasn't enough for Lucinda
She wasn't that kind of girl
Now I've fallen from grace for Lucinda
Whoever thought that hell be'd so low
I did well for an old tin can sailor
But she wanted the bell in my soul
I've spoken the god on the mountain
And I've swam in the Irish sea
I ate fire and drank from the Ganges
And I'll beg there for mercy for me
And to add a chick into the mix -
Polly Paulusma. I don't think she's great - yet. But she has potential.
#1
One day
I'll take a bottle with a good strong base
And a cork that fits it
No label, no marker's mark
And I'll shout the bile and anger and plain disappointment in until I've almost filled it
And then I'll squeeze the cork down hard
I'll need a boat with a good strong sail
To weather all the storms and the gales
I'll grab the bottle, grip the rail and say my prayers
And then I'll throw that bottle out
Into the deep blue sea
And then I'll sail away
Yeah I'll throw that bottle out
So far it can't hurt me
One day, one day, one day
One day, one day, one day
One day
I'll take some canvas with a good strong seam
And a hot air burner
A basket, some sandbags and rope
And I'll float above the earth in my balloon of steam Drifting further and further
Over plains and mountain slopes
I'll fly 'til I find the deepest lake
A volcano about to awake
I'll grab that bottle by the neck and say my prayers
And then I'll hurt that bottle down
Into the deep ravine
I'll never hear it hit the ground
Yeah I'll hurt that bottle down, so far it can't hurt me
One day, one day, one day
One day, one day, one day
One day, one day, one day
One day
I'll build a rocket with a thick blunt nose And a megatonne engine
A window to look at the moon
And I'll burn through the stratosphere with fire in my tail
A comet ascending
'Til I float in weightless gloom
I won't turn back 'til I see the lunar plains
The detail of the rugged terrain
I'll grab that bottle full of pain and say my prayers
And then I'll hurt that bottle down onto the arid sea
And then I'll fly away
Yeah I'll hurt that bottle down
So far it can't hurt me
One day, one day, one day
#2
It started slowly.
First a finger then a thumb.
Matilda started disappearing,
in front of everyone.
No one noticed how translucent she'd become.
As one by one.
It started softly.
First a fumble then a kiss.
In all his dreams he'd never seen,
perfection like this.
No one noticed her hand tug at his.
As one by one,
the walkers left the park.
And one by one,
the electric lights went dark.
And one by one.
He buried her down in this hole.
I've got nothing to fear.
Somebody knows,
that I'm hiding down here.
If I wiggle my toes,
they're gonna come find me.
If I wiggle my toes,
I'm gonna get free.
It started slowly,
like a joining up of dots.
A dolly on a doorstep,
and an empty cardboard box.
That quiet yearning,
as the final penny draws.
As one by one,
we called her name out loud.
And one by one,
we strain to hear the sound.
And one by one,
our tourch beams shorn.
Down in this hole,
I've got nothing to fear.
Somebody knows,
that I'm hiding down here.
If I wiggle my toes,
they're gonna come find me.
Somebody knows,
that I'm under these stones.
There gonna come find me.
BTW - since Vince has weighed in, it will be interesting to see what Eric's suggestions will be. Since they seem to be our two premier audiophiles. I am almost in the "It has a nice beat and you can dance to it" category or music listener.
ReplyDeleteCoincidentally, I was randomly doing some research into odes yesterday, and it occurred to me that Billly Joel's Leningrad is an ode:
ReplyDeleteViktor was born in the spring of '44
And never saw his father anymore
A child of sacrifice, a child of war
Another son who never had a father after Leningrad
Went off to school and learned to serve the state
Followed the rules and drank his vodka straight
The only way to live was drown the hate
A Russian life was very sad
And such was life in Leningrad
I was born in '49
A cold war kid in McCarthy time
Stop 'em at the 38th Parallel
Blast those yellow reds to hell
And cold war kids were hard to kill
Under their desk in an air raid drill
Haven't they heard we won the war
What do they keep on fighting for?
Viktor was sent to some Red Army town
Served out his time, became a circus clown
The greatest happiness he'd ever found
Was making Russian children glad
And children lived in Leningrad
But children lived in Levittown
And hid in the shelters underground
Until the Soviets turned their ships around
And tore the Cuban missiles down
And in that bright October sun
We knew our childhood days were done
And I watched my friends go off to war
What do they keep on fighting for?
And so my child and I came to this place
To meet him eye to eye and face to face
He made my daughter laugh, then we embraced
We never knew what friends we had
Until we came to Leningrad
... then the song shifts into a third melody for an epode.
(lyrics copied from lyricwiki.org)
Second example would have to be Downeaster Alexa, seeing as how I'm a big fan of fish and the ocean and all... ;)
Well I'm on the Downeaster Alexa
And I'm cruisin' through Block Island Sound
I have charted a course to the vineyards
But tonight I am Nantucket bound.
We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday
And left this morning from the bell in Gardiner's Bay
Like all the locals here I've had to sell my home
Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone
So I could own my Downeaster Alexa
And I go where the ocean is deep
There are giants out there in the canyons
And a good captain can't fall asleep
I've got bills to pay and children who need clothes
I know there's fish out there but where God only knows
They say these waters aren't what they used to be
But I've got people back on land who count on me
So if you see my Downeaster Alexa
And if you work with the rod and the reel
Tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis
And I still have my hands on the wheel
Now I drive my Downeaster Alexa
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they told me I can't sell no stripers
And there's no luck in swordfishing here
I was a Bayman like my father was before
Can't make a living as a Bayman anymore
There ain't much future for a man who works the sea
But there ain't no island left for Islanders like me
Ya-ya-ya-oh
Ya-ya-ya-oh
Ya-ya-ya-oh
Ya-ya-ya-oh
(lyrics from lyricwiki.org)
Sorry, I tend to be move more by music than lyrics. In fact, I can listen to a song just for an awesome bass line.
ReplyDeleteThough I am awfully fond of Elvis Costello's lyrics...
Take the chorus of "This Town"
You’re nobody in this town
You’re nobody in this crowd
You’re nobody ‘til everybody in this town
Thinks you’re poison,
Got your number knows it must be avoided
You’re nobody ‘til everybody in this town
Thinks you’re a bastard
And I'm also inordinately fond of Cracker...
Well, lucky number seven passed me by
Lucky number seven called my name and passed on by
Well he came back don't you know
with his brother six in tow
And that is how number thirteen wound up by my side.
And that is how I got these Lonesome Johnny Blues
How I got these Lonesome Johnny Blues
Got the Lonesome Johnny Blues
and there's nothing I can do
'Cept sing these sad old weary Lonesome Johnny Blues
Grim Reaper he pulled up into my drive
Grim Reaper pulled his little old Chevrolet
right up onto the goddamn drive
"Johnny, I haven't come for you
but I want someone who's dear to you
and the price you pay is to remain alive"
And I'll stay here with these Lonesome Johnny Blues
Stay here with these Lonesome Johnny Blues
With the Lonesome Johnny Blues
and there's nothing I can do
'Cept sing these sad old weary Lonesome Johnny Blues
Woah, no more trouble send him down
the road, won't you please.
No more trouble won't you beat him up,
won't you send him down the road
Trouble dumped out the trash
Ransacked the place for cash
and he wound up taking much more than I own
And he left me with these Lonesome Johnny Blues
Left me with these Lonesome Johnny Blues
With the Lonesome Johnny Blues
and there's nothing I can do
'Cept sing these sad old weary Lonesome Johnny Blues
Though the music really makes "Lonesome Johnny Blues".
And then there's the chorus of the Posies "My Big Mouth"
Don't make me explain myself - you don't need to know
What's going on in my big head right now
It could appear that I could want to defend me, but
Don't make me open my big mouth
I was sort of reluctant to comment for some reason, especially since Nathan, Vince and Tania already hit several of my top picks: Springsteen, Dylan, Cohen and Waits.
ReplyDeleteLet's see who else I could throw in? Well, I'm a huuuge Michael Penn fan:
In "Denton Road," a man comments on his own funeral:
I've heard people say they’ve come for miles
To pay their due respects
(for mileage, each expects).
"A pillar of community and style".
"At heart, a family man
Who'd had a change of plan".
Goodbye Sally, Simi Valley,
Denton Road, The Roosevelt Hotel
For my own farewell
And if you don't show, that's fine.
What's it say about me that I'm bored?
Don't need another speech
To know I'm out of reach....
In "Me Around," things don't seem to be going too well:
The fire that this town can see
Is me alight in effigy
I suppose baby don't want me around
She threw my stuff into a pit
And laughed aloud as I dove after it
I suppose baby don't want me around
Is this the place you want to be?
Out of the woods
Out of control
And is it really only me
Who never gets here with you
She changed the number, changed the lock
A rubber door in case I knock
I suppose baby don't want me around
I also love Jeff Tweedy's lyrics. Wilco's "Via Chicago" is a sad, brutal, heart-breaking song:
I dreamed about killing you again last night
And it felt alright to me
Dying on the banks of Embarcadero skies
I sat and watched you bleed
Buried you alive in a fireworks display
Raining down on me
You cold, hot blood ran away from me
To the sea
I painted my name on the back of a leaf
And I watched it float away
The hope I had in a notebook full of white, dry pages
Was all I tried to save
But the wind blew me back via Chicago
In the middle of the night
And all without fight
At the crush of veils and starlight
I know I'll make it back
One of these days and turn on your TV
To watch a man with a face like mine
Being chased down a busy street
When he gets caught, I wont get up
And I wont go to sleep
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Via Chicago
From Uncle Tupelo's "Black Eye," an early Tweedy lyric:
he had a black eye
he was proud of
like some of his friends
it made him feel somewhere outside
of everything and everywhere he'd been
like his brothers
he emptied himself
and played it safe
like their father
he wanted to remember
but he almost always
forgot what he was gonna say
Honorable mentions might be sent off to Townes Van Zandt and Gram Parsons. Jackson Brown in his time and place could write odes to dead friends better than anyone but gets pretty spotty after his first three or four albums. Tori Amos can be a brilliant lyricist when she writes in English: "Playboy Mommy" brings me near tears almost everytime I hear it and "Waitress" is a wonderful little assassination--unfortunately, she sometimes gets just a little nuts (which is also sometimes brilliant: "Space Dog" is an awesome song, but I have no idea what the fuck she's talking about--"racing turtles/the grapefruit is winning..."--whaaaa?). I could probably go on and on and on, but I'll cut my comment there.
I think George Harrison has some amazing messages that he delivers in his lyrics.
ReplyDelete#1
All Things Must Pass
Sunrise doesn't last all morning
A cloudburst doesn't last all day
Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning
It's not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
Sunset doesn't last all evening
A mind can blow those clouds away
After all this, my love is up and must be leaving
It's not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
All things must pass
None of life's strings can last
So, I must be on my way
And face another day
Now the darkness only stays the night-time
In the morning it will fade away
Daylight is good at arriving at the right time
It's not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
All things must pass
All things must pass away
#2
Brainwashed
Brainwashed in our childhood
Brainwashed by the school
Brainwashed by our teachers
And brainwashed by all their rules
Brainwashed by our leaders
By our Kings and Queens
Brainwashed in the open
And brainwashed behind the scenes
God God God
A voice cries in the wilderness
God God God
It was on the longest night
God God God
An eternity of darkness
God God God
Someone turned out the spiritual light
Brainwashed by the Nikkei
Brainwashed by Dow Jones
Brainwashed by the FTSE
Nasdaq and secure loans
Brainwashed us from Brussels
Brainwashed us in Bonn
Brainwashed us in Washington
Westminster in London
God God God
You are the wisdom that we seek
God God God
The lover that we miss
God God God
Your nature is eternity
God God God
Your are Existence, Knowledge, Bliss
The soul does not love, it is love itself
It does not exist, it is existence itself
It does not know, it is knowledge itself
How to Know God, pag 130
They brainwashed my great uncle
Brainwashed my cousin Bob
They even got my grandma
When she was working for the mob
Brainwash you while you're sleeping
While in your traffic jam
Brainwash you while you're weeping
While still a baby in your pram
Brainwashed by the military
Brainwashed under duress
Brainwashed by the media
You're brainwashed by the press
Brainwashed by computer
Brainwashed by mobile phones
Brainwashed by the satellite
Brainwashed to the bone