‘Words,’ said the 1983 one-hit wonder F R David in his song of the same name, ‘don’t come easy.’ That must have been particularly true for Mr David in this instance, since he was a French–Tunisian musician for whom English was not a native tongue. Yet his admission struck a chord, not just among tongue-tied lovers around the world, but among struggling songwriters grappling with the slippery task of adding words to their music.
Many performers have said, ‘My songs are like my children’. If so, there are some seriously neglected kids running around, and it’s invariably the lyrical side of their development that hasn’t been shown due care and attention. At the very least, the musical wing of the NSPCC might want to step in, and offer some stern advice on parenting skills. After all, many songwriters don’t even bother thinking about their offspring’s names, sex, personality, hair colour or how many toes they have until they’re lacing up their shoes on the first day of school.
That’s partly because lyrics are often the last thing musicians consider before they record a song. Being a feckless, pampered and workshy breed at the best of times, they will put off the daunting job of setting their thoughts to music until the last possible moment, when one of them – usually the singer, if it’s a band – will spend a few quiet minutes in the studio toilets scanning the graffiti for inspiration and frantically scribbling down lines as the glockenspiel parts are being recorded.
Bearing that in mind, what is surprising is not that there are so many bad lyrics out there, but that there are so few.
I get the odd night when I’m halfway through ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’ when I say to myself, ‘I still don’t know what these words mean! I’m thinking, what the … what the … ‘Stand up beside the fireplace’. Why?
And all these kids will be singing it at the top of their voices with all their arms around each other and I kind of feel like stopping and going, ‘Look, can somebody help me out here? Am I missing something?’
Noel Gallagher, The Observer, 2005
Of course, many songwriters would probably tell you that lyrics are a relatively unimportant part of a song, and that they don’t have to convey any specific meaning or resonance to the listener, merely a vague ‘feel’ that seems to fit the vibe of the music. And sometimes that’s true. A song can work brilliantly despite bad lyrics (may I direct you to exhibit A from Chapter 2, Oasis’s ‘Champagne Supernova’?). But it rarely works because of them.
At their best, lyrics give a song a large part of its identity, and strike as much of a chord in the listener as the saddest of D minors. Would ‘Yesterday’ be half the song it is if Paul McCartney had stuck with his first-draft opening line of ‘Scrambled eggs, oh my darling how I love your legs’?
Yet the vast majority of popular song lyrics manage to pass in and out of our ears without arousing too much attention. This book is mostly dedicated to the small minority of lyrics that simply leap out of the speakers and make normally tolerant music lovers wince as if they’d just caught a whiff of Amy Winehouse’s breath.
Magazines and newspapers regularly furnish us with long lists of ‘albums to hear before you die’. I’d argue that some of the words in this book are ‘lyrics to die before you hear’.
Sadly, it’s probably too late for that. In all likelihood you’ll have come across most of them at some point, and while you will recognise some and agree that they represent an unacceptable stain on our great language, others may be excerpts from your favourite songs. Indeed someone, somewhere, probably has the words of Steve Miller’s ‘The Joker’ tattoed on their neck, and believes that they too are a space cowboy, and a ‘pompatus of love’.
You may, of course, ask if it’s strictly fair that we are pointing and laughing at the hard work of talented musicians, holding it up to the scorn of the world? Well, that’s debatable. And the answer to that debate is ‘yes’.
As much great pop has been inspired by negative feelings as positive ones, and just as we demand passion from performers, they demand it from listeners in return, so they can’t expect us to be passive, uncritical consumers.
If my mum was one of the songwriters criticised in this book, she would undoubtedly ask ‘Well, could you do any better’? I can’t categorically confirm that I could, although at certain points I have attempted to do worse. See what you think.
Either way, I’m not claiming to be any major literary authority. And like the songwriters whose work I so cheaply mock, I’m bound to make clumsy and contradictory statements, and while I hope I can avoid cliché, I’m not about to lose sleep over it.
You also shouldn’t think that I’m condemning all the records in which these words are found. A lyric of debatable quality is no major obstacle to a great song – in fact, sometimes it even enhances its charm. I have an enduring affection for many of the songs featured here, and many other readers will love them too. And someone, somewhere, must love ‘The Cheeky Song’. Mustn’t they?
A bad lyric is rarely the sign of a bad artist. Many of the artists featured in this book are actually among the greatest lyricists in the history of popular music – the likes of Dylan, Weller or Barlow. OK, maybe scratch that last one. Many of the lyrics here would have gone unnoticed if they hadn’t been included in very popular and often otherwise well-crafted compositions. Some of them sound very fine indeed when heard coming out of a radio, even if they look pretty dumb on paper.
Inevitably, a bad lyric is in the ear of the beholder. One person’s nonsensical drivel is another’s inspired impressionistic genius. Besides, it’s far from necessary to make any conventional sense whatsoever to impart meaning in this game. When Little Richard sang ‘Awopbopaloobopawop bamboom’ he was hardly trying to impress anyone with his mastery of the English language, but as a gleeful, unhinged expression of joy it’s one of the most incendiary utterances ever recorded.
However, none of these mitigating points are going to stop me taking great musicians’ words completely out of context, then pointing and laughing at them as if they were David Cameron attempting to impress a group of inner-city children by doing an ‘olly’ on his skateboard.
Ultimately, I come not to simply bury bad lyrics, but to dig them up, like a dog returning to sniff its own waste with a mixture of affection and horrified fascination. If I may conclude in the style to which you will shortly become accustomed …
I hope you enjoy these lyrical examples
Please send me some of your own favourite samples
email me at: craplyrics@googlemail.com
I’ll do my best to read every one
I cannot enter into personal correspondence
But I promise to read everything once
Singing ‘la la la la ay ay ay ay moosey’