Years ago, my boyfriend had me listen to a song he
liked. When he asked what I thought of
it, I, not yet schooled in the ways of cultivating a romantic relationship,
replied honestly, saying I thought the music was good (this conciliatory
statement is as laughable from my 16-year-old self as it would be from my
22-year-old self, since I know only slightly more about music than I do about
Olympic gymnastics), but the lyrics didn’t really do much for me. My boyfriend, who did actually know a good
deal about music, replied mournfully, “Josie, there was a time when people
appreciated music for more than its lyrics.”
Indeed. Well, though
it may be an indicator of my musical ignorance, I will confess to still
enjoying music primarily for the lyrics.
Now and then, I will go through sprees of listening to classical music
that’s just instrumental, but that’s mainly so if someone walks into the room I
can “hastily” shut off my music, pull the, “Oh, I didn’t see you there”
routine, and seem more sophisticated that I actually am. Though I know some people derive pleasure
from music as a form of technical, complex art, I look at music as a form of
catharsis, and I have always found the most emotional release through
words. Also, when people start to talk
about crescendos and adagios, my eyes glaze over, and no matter how much I try
to bluff my way through the conversation, I always make it extremely apparent
that singing “Row Row Row Your Boat” in rounds is about as technically advanced
as I get.
But even though I love me some good lyrics, I’m as guilty as
the next person of singing a song for weeks, maybe even months, before I
actually listen to the lyrics. I’m not talking about singing the wrong words
to a song (because, really, people do that for years, or until some sort of public or semi-public embarrassment
has occurred). I’m talking about
belatedly garnering the meaning to a song that you’ve been gracing the world
with your rendition of for many countdowns.
Here are some songs that have been popular on the radio at
one point or another, and should eventually give you pause:
T-Shirt by Shontelle
A song about a woman so heartbroken she has one of the most
devastating First World Problems: a rejection of Jimmy Choo’s? Girl, the young and in love of America feel
your pain and hope you can find the strength to muddle through. But, really, Shontelle should lose you before
the chorus. My “T-Shirt” revelation
happened when I was in the car with my friends, and we were all singing along
to the song. We got to the part, “Gonna
be late, gonna be late, but, all my girls gonna have to wait…” and awareness struck. I looked back at my friends and said, “If any
of you were ever late for something, and I showed up to your house and found
you lying on your bed in your ex-boyfriend’s t-shirt, I really think I’d kick
your ass.” Because, seriously, if you
don’t feel like hanging out, you call and cancel your plans. You don’t lie around scantily clad while your
friends wait for you. That’s just bad
manners.
Speak Now by Taylor
Swift
Taylor Swift is an artist I would love to hate, because
she’s all about teenage love and clichéd rhymes, and I really want to be above
all that. But I’m just not. Every time she comes out with a new song that
I like, I always shake my fist at the radio and give a grudging, “Damn you,
Taylor Swift,” resigning myself to some repeated plays on my iPod. That’s not to say that Taylor doesn’t
occasionally bring her own record to a screeching halt (Like in “Love Story”
when Romeo solves all of his and Juliet’s problems by simply talking to her
dad? Oh, Shakespeare, if your Romeo had
only had Swift’s foresight...). In “Speak
Now,” Swift sets up a story where she has sneaked into an old lover’s wedding,
planning to speak up at the more or less rhetorical “Speak now or forever hold
your peace” part of the ceremony. But,
before she gets there, she tells the would-be groom, “And I am hiding in the
curtains. It seems that I was uninvited
by your lovely bride-to-be.” Hell yeah you were, Taylor. You’re the psychopath hiding in the goddamn
curtains of her wedding, trying to steal her fiancé. Fucking right she uninvited you. There’s really no point in trying to make the
bride sound unreasonable, because it seems like you really had that one coming.
Defying Gravity,
Wicked
I love this song, and I love this musical (I also love this
book, even though I cannot find a single person who will gush over Maguire’s
genius with me). The lyrics to this song
are fun and empowering, like I imagine they were intended to be. So how did the song make this list? Well, I really only ever sing it when I’m
doing something mundane, like going for groceries or coming home from
school. “It’s time to tryyyyy
defyyyyyying graaavity…” (Yeah, I bought that milk! I went to the bank! Look out world; I’m defyyyying graaavity.) You can never be doing anything cool enough
to live up to this song. Elphaba will
always be leaving her best friend to prepare to take on the wizard, and you will
always be driving in your car, trying to remember if you bought the right brand
of butter.
Call Me Maybe by Carly
Raye Jepsen
I know this song gets a lot of criticism and has been
parodied to death, even though, just admit it, you’ve spent at least two weeks
humming it, whether you like it or not.
From what I, via my limited expertise, can discern, the music itself is
catchy. And, also, I think we can all
relate to the general narrative of being attracted to someone, kind of gritting
your teeth and making the first move, and waiting in what could be terminal
anxiety to see how the other person reacts.
So, Carly Raye, we get it. We
really do. But what we don’t get is why
“This is crazy.” Because you just met
the guy? Friend, it’s what you do. It’s the unfortunate law of socialization
that in order for an initial meeting to become prolonged, someone has to offer
up a form of further contact. And we can
only hope, as supportive listeners, that the “All the other boys try to chase
me” line was thought, but not spoken aloud to the potential suitor. Otherwise, maybe we’d suggest you not spend
too long waiting by the phone.
According to You by
Orianthi
This song reminds me of when people come to you for advice,
but they already know exactly what they’re going to do. So you have to faux-patiently listen to them
go on and on about their “dilemma” for an hour before you can repeat to them
essentially what they already said to you.
In this song, Orianthi has a very difficult decision to make. Or something.
Her boyfriend says she’s “stupid, [she’s] useless, [she] can’t do
anything right,” and a host of other demeaning comments. First of all, why are you still with this
jerk? Run, don’t walk, your talented ass
away from Demeaning Dave. But, luckily,
another person in Orianthi’s life thinks she’s wonderful, incredible, etc.,
etc. So, you know, she’s hearing good
things from someone. However, after
comparing the two men, Orianthi sings to Boyfriend #1 a.k.a Most Likely To Be The
Last Thing Orianthi Would Save In A Fire, “It’s too bad that you’re making me
decide.” Everything else about this song
bothers me, but the idea of there even being a decision to make, or the idea
that she had to have someone else to go to before she left BF #1, just really irks
me. Yeah, it is really too bad you have
to decide. But tough choices like that
are why we have coins to flip. And radio
dials to turn.
Never Gonna Leave this
Bed by Maroon 5
Regret and redemption are two popular themes for songs, and
if you can juxtapose your woeful sentiments with relatively upbeat music,
you’ll probably have a hit on your hands.
“Never Gonna Leave this Bed” is no exception to the rules I just made
up. I think, when we fantasize about our
love lives, we may all tend to think we’d appreciate a significant other who
would go to impossible lengths for us, remind us of our beauty and intrinsic
worth every day, and, hell, toss a thoughtful gift our way every now and
then. But, in reality, although we
really do want our romantic counterparts to treat us well, when people go over
the top, that shit gets old fast. When
Adam Levine croons, “Wake you up in the middle of the night to say, I will
never walk away again…” I have to wonder, is he waking this poor girl up every
night? That seems unnecessary. Even periodically, it seems annoying. Like she’s in a deep sleep and he shakes her
shoulder until she blearily opens her eyes, and then he assures her, “Don’t worry. I’ll never leave you again.” Dude.
At this point, that’s less of a promise and more of an irritating
threat. And reassure her in the daytime, when she cares. Though, I have to
say, this song almost didn’t make the list, because if anyone is going to wake
me up in the middle of the night and be forgiven, it would probably be Adam
Levine.
I’m by no means saying that when a song gets tangled up in
its own logic we can no longer appreciate it.
In fact, I think the same thing could work for music that often works
for literature: When something you love is not sensible in a literal manner,
and you cannot explain away the inconsistencies, you just become distracted by
whatever is nearest to you and mumble, “Yeah, it’s like a metaphor, or whatever…”
and then exit the conversation quickly.
(Maybe don’t try that with “Call Me Maybe” unless you’re feeling really
ambitious). This isn’t a post to drain
your enjoyment out of music. In fact, I
personally gain more enjoyment from recognizing these lyrical mishaps than I do
from ignoring them. But if you can’t do
that, then, by all means, sing loudly, sing happily, and let no one tell you
how to appreciate your music.
As always, happy reading.
