Lyrics

Once again, I'm going to add my voice to that already over-represented group on the internet: people who make judgements, without having the talent or qualifications to back them up. I know people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but thankfully the internet has no physical manifestation.

I'm inspired to write about lyrics today as I've recently struggled to write my own. I have managed that task, and one day may share the results on here, but need to be sure they'll stand the test of time in my mind first (as I've discussed in previous posts, my hating them in the end is almost inevitable).

But trying to write lyrics remined me what a tricky business it can be. Writing something true and meaningful, catchy but not clichéd, is - I have come to believe - an almost impossible task. So actually getting something down requires a certain amount of pragmatism: an acknowledgement that what you write is likely to be cheesy or lack profundity. Furthermore, it's hard to predict what will resonate in the minds of the listener. What might seem brilliant and orginal to the writer might seem hopelessly derivative to those that hear it, and vice versa (if the writer's particularly lucky).

The saving grace that lyrics have, though, (that poems don't) is an accompanying tune. A strong tune or a good hook has made up for many a crass lyric. So, ultimately, what one has to hope for is a song that is either strong musically, or lyrically. To hope for both is just greedy!

I'd like to just share a couple of my favourite lyrics to end (I've rambled on lots in recent posts, and thought I should keep this one short).

"For diamonds do appear to be
Just like broken glass to me."

I can't believe it took until 2008 for this particular lyric to be penned. Written by Ryan Ross (who, at the time, was in Panic At The Disco), it surely has many songwriters kicking themselves for not having thought of it. It's so obvious, and brilliant in its simplicity.

"It's the facts of life, sunshine."

This lyric is one that causes the phenomenon in my mind that I mentioned above - it resonates with me for reasons I can't explain. It's from the Manic Street Preachers song All Is Vanity. I don't know if I just like the way it sounds, or I relate to the sentiment. But whatever the reason, I really like that particular lyric.

There are plenty of awful lyrics, but I'd rather focus on the good today. And I'm going to end with one that's an example of a category of lyrics that I enjoy: ones where the songwriting process is laid bare:

"Look, another line without a hook."

Much like Alice Cooper's "We can't even think of a word that ryhmes" from School's Out, this line from My Chemical Romance's I'm Not Okay is a knowing wink, and provides an amateur like me with hope: even the best lyricists sometimes run out of ideas. And when they do, the effect can be better than if they hadn't.

Rock Music - For All the People I Wish I Could Be

Rock music is great. Really great. Like many of the person (sic) who might read this, I have my own ideas about what I think makes it great, and believe myself to be right. And, of course, everyone has an equal claim on holding the correct opinion; that is to say, no one has the correct opinion, because there's no such thing as an absolute truth in art.

And that's a fact that I enjoy immensely. There's a brilliant, chaotic, anarchic freedom to knowing that nobody can ever, definitively, argue that Guns N' Roses are any better than Boyzone, Steps, or 5ive (should I be ashamed for having spelt correctly?). For the record, I'd almost always choose those bands over Guns N' Roses, without particularly liking any of them. But that's because, in my opinion, 1980s cock rock is absolutely rubbish.

Just realised I've been a bit British in my examples, so if you happen to be one of my many international readers(!), then instead of Boyzone, Steps and 5ive, read 3T or Aaron Carter (or, if you're French, 2 Be 3 or Worlds Apart). Before my knowledge of the World's boybands becomes too creepy, I'll move on (perhaps too late, I fear).

Let's move away from boybands and back to rock. More precisely, to my favourite rock band and the man pictured at the top, Gerard Way. He's the lead singer of My Chemical Romance. They've been my favourite band for five or six years now, and throughout that time I've wondered why. Their normal fanbase is thought to be sixteen year-olds (more female than male), although I suspect that's a bit of an inaccurate generalisation. Either way, though, there are plenty of similar bands around that I don't remotely like, so quite why I love them as much as I do has been a mystery to me.

Having bought, and loved, each of their first three albums a little more than the last, it was only when they brought out their fourth "Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys" that it dawned on me. It's not exactly a profound realisation, but what this band is for me (and, I suspect, a few other fans) is pure escapism. They - along with the personas they adopt in this album - are everything I sometimes wish I could be, but know I never could.

Before I properly qualify that statement, a quick word on the music. In "Danger Days", MCR have produced what I think is the best rock album of the year, and probably for a lot longer than that. It's incredibly varied, which I like, and hints at many influences, without seemeing particularly derivative of any. It's a bit less hard than fans might have come to expect from previous albums, or indeed than the unitiated might imagine. And yet it still has their characteristic edge, largely thanks to Gerard's voice, and its fantastic, outskirts-of-sanity feel. I genuinely believe he has one of the most fertile minds in popular culture today.

I've embedded (at the bottom) the album's lead single, Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na), to give you a feel of what it's like. The video also introduces the concept that drives the album - a gang of outlaws on the run in a post-apocalyptic America, where "The Aftermath is Secondary".

And this brings me back to my realisation, that what makes me love this band, and this album, so much is that they live out an attitude and way of living that I'd love to hold, but never could.

Trust me, I would love to go through life thinking that the aftermath is secondary. Of course, literally it is - but not in terms of its importance (come on, you know what I mean!). I'm just too guilty to think like that. To quote Mark Corrigan in Peep Show:

"I feel guilty about everything, from the pollution caused by Chinese industrialisation, to not wearing some pairs of boxers as much as others."

So that's why I find MCR, and the characters they create, so alluring. Much of my mind longs to go through life with an attitude of "f**k it all" defiance, in true rock and roll fashion. But, deep down, I know that if I ever want to do my bit to make the world better, especially with its survival, as we know it, in doubt in the coming century, that attitude has to stay confined to my fantasies.

So, MCR, thanks for the escape!