If we take a few first tentative steps into the whirling, fast moving stream of music of the last hundred years, perhaps the first rock of certainty that we tread upon, is that music, and especially lyrics, mirror the pace of life, even define, the era in which they are created. The extremes take us from Ivor Novello’s word-heavy paean, in 1915, “Although your heart is breaking, make it sing this cheery song” to those left behind to stir the coals and keep the home fires burning – to Lady Gaga’s texted in, contemporary, lyrics “Eh, eh, Oh yeah, All I can say is eh”
By the time the Second World War arrived at Britain’s doorstep, and Adolf was anticipating a holiday home in Weston-Super-Mare, Noel Coward (in 1943 for heaven’s sake!) couldn’t take this whole ghastly war business seriously, and penned the hugely popular, (so naturally banned by the BBC) “Don’t Let’s Be Beastly To The Germans.”
Containing as it does, at least a dozen quote-worthy lines, and a similar number of delicious wordplays, pride of place must go to the juiciest couplet:
“Though they gave us science, culture, art, and music, to excess. / They also gave us two world wars and Dr. Rudolph Hess.”
The most fascinating insights into lyric writing, and with a direct and honest sense of personal review, can be found in Ira Gershwin’s wonderful autobiography/lyric writer’s guide, from the 1950s, "Lyrics On Several Occasions".
As a contrast between the Novello and Coward examples, the Gershwins wrote much of their work during the relative peace between the two wars, and Ira confirms what we can see and hear - that he loved to play with words. He turned phrases and sentences around, broke any ‘rule’ of grammar that stood in his way, juggled with the placement of words, until they fitted his game plan. Every last drop of inspiration was used to ensure the timbre and rhythm of the lyric remained true, throughout a song.
One of the very finest examples is the aching pain of a lost love in “Someone To Watch Over Me.”
Here, Ira Gershwin is happy to throw in an unnecessary indefinite article, simply to maintain the rhythm of the line. Without it, the line jars. With it, the verse becomes complete.
“There's a somebody, I’m longing to see; I hope that he; Turns out to be; Someone who’ll watch over me”
By the time we reach the 1960s, songwriters, perhaps in a broom cupboard in the Brill Building, or watching the sun go down over Laurel Canyon, blossomed in the spring of changing times, the chimes of freedom, and the reaction against ‘The Man’ and the war in Vietnam.
Hal David (with musical partner Burt Bacharach) had a magical run, right through the 1960s, with lyrics often about the anguish, rather than the joy, of love, yet with a perkiness that reassured us that tomorrow is another day, with the prospect of angels, to come and sprinkle moon dust in your hair of gold.
Elsewhere, Jimmy Webb almost foresaw the Twittering future with his short bursts of emotion strewn lyrics - somehow achieving a lifetime’s longing in a couple of dozen words. In the peerless ‘Wichita Lineman’, Webb gives the listener an insight into the ad-hoc lifestyle of the lineman with such a simple couplet, “I know I need a small vacation” –pause- “but it don’t look like rain.”
Terence Dackombe, 2010
