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Lyrics

Zakalwe

Inactive Member
I find that the most important part of any song is the Lyrics. Importantly my favourite musician is Leonard Cohen, the premier Lyricist in the world (ignore what Sekiko says, she is heathen).

And thus I created this thread, mainly to get opinion on the lyrics of that great man I'm going to post, but feel free to post any others, by any singer or group, here for comments.

This particular song is one I only found recently:

"Death Of A Ladies' Man"

Ah the man she wanted all her life was hanging by a thread
"I never even knew how much I wanted you," she said.
His muscles they were numbered and his style was obsolete.
"O baby, I have come too late." She knelt beside his feet.
"I'll never see a face like yours in years of men to come
I'll never see such arms again in wrestling or in love."
And all his virtues burning in the smoky Holocaust
She took unto herself most everything her lover lost
Now the master of this landscape he was standing at the view
with a sparrow of St. Francis that he was preaching to
She beckoned to the sentry of his high religious mood
She said, "I'll make a place between my legs,
I'll show you solitude."

He offered her an orgy in a many mirrored room
He promised her protection for the issue of her womb
She moved her body hard against a sharpened metal spoon
She stopped the bloody rituals of passage to the moon

She took his much admired oriental frame of mind
and the heart-of-darkness alibi his money hides behind
She took his blonde madonna and his monastery wine --
"This mental space is occupied and everything is mine."

He tried to make a final stand beside the railway track
She said, "The art of longing's over and it's never coming back."
She took his tavern parliament, his cap, his cocky dance,
she mocked his female fashions and his working-class moustache.

The last time that I saw him he was trying hard to get
a woman's education but he's not a woman yet
And the last time that I saw her she was living with some boy
who gives her soul an empty room and gives her body joy.

So the great affair is over but whoever would have guessed
it would leave us all so vacant and so deeply unimpressed
It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

***

Enjoy.
 
Hmmm

Lyrics can be an important part of a song, but there are other angles to it as well.

1) Some artists will just use words to bring the point across, and not use any emotion in their voice.

2) From a musical perspetive the most important part is the beat, e.g a drummer

3) I prefer the musical instruments such as a guitar, violin as I believe that they bring across emotions subtly without making it obvious with lyrics, I also like the fact that instruments other than voice can be almost like another language, that flows and provides an escape from the spoken language we hear every day.
 
Zakalwe said:
I find that the most important part of any song is the Lyrics. Importantly my favourite musician is Leonard Cohen, the premier Lyricist in the world (ignore what Sekiko says, she is heathen).

I disagree, the lyrics are not the most important part fo the song, ifeel as Laz said, the emotion and the voice are important. Although each has a different intepretion of te lyric. Also in music, such as death metal the lyrics are often can't be understood and this doesn't make them worse, just different and many people still like them, me being one of them.
 
Zakalwe said:
I find that the most important part of any song is the Lyrics.
Counterpoint:

"Hamster of grunge, be an adult.
Lobster of revenge, accompany him.
Sniper."

Good song anyway.
 
I don't care about lyrics. I even find that they spoil the music, sometimes.

What attracts me in a song is the performance of the artists, how everything blends smoothly, how it can warm your heart/pump adrenalin in your veins/make you sad/make you laugh (pick one or more), ... I don't listen to what the song says, I listen to how it says it.

Now about thoses lyrics, they look good, but they also look like hundreds of other love-related songs. Also, they made me laugh, which isn't what the author intended, I guess. (but that's because i'm a cynical, egotistical, sarcastic [insert random insult here] that laughs from the misery of others :p)
 
sada sakue said:
I don't care about lyrics. I even find that they spoil the music, sometimes.

What attracts me in a song is the performance of the artists, how everything blends smoothly, how it can warm your heart/pump adrenalin in your veins/make you sad/make you laugh (pick one or more), ... I don't listen to what the song says, I listen to how it says it.

Yay! Soulmates, lol!
 
sada sakue said:
I confess that I may not be skilled enough in english to grasp what the song is about.
I don't think I am, either...

So what's it about, guy killed himself and left everything to her? She killed him and took everything? Divorced? What?
 
Simply put -- no matter how lyrically cool he is, I've yet to hear a song of his that has the instruments match the quality of the lyrics. His poetry should be held in high regard, yes. However, I enjoy music, not poetry.

This is why Clapton is God and Cohen is not. This is why Pete Townshend is my hero and not Mr. Cohen.

Mark Knopfler shall always rule the day. Mr. Cohen simply rules the ethereal world, which doesn't get my blood moving at all.

(Thomas and I have yakked about this before.)
 
What it is about it very open to individual interpretation, however I'll try and explain what I think it's about.

Apart from the first two verse ... they're deep and all, but they're also weird. Anyone who can interpret them for me gets 20 points.

However the whole verse is actually about the death of the 60's and 70's, the death of that whole style of clothing, of dancing, the looks, the mentality.

In this song there is a man whole epitomises all of that, the "master of this landscape", but he is doomed, crashing down, surpassed, outdated, "His muscles they where numbered and his style was obsolete."

That's the first verse, although it's deeper than that.

The second verse ... I don't understand. It's just ... strange, and possibly something to do with pregnancy.

He tried to make a final stand beside the railway track
She said, "The art of longing's over and it's never coming back."
She took his tavern parliament, his cap, his cocky dance,
she mocked his female fashions and his working-class moustache.

The last time that I saw him he was trying hard to get
a woman's education but he's not a woman yet
And the last time that I saw her she was living with some boy
who gives her soul an empty room and gives her body joy.

This is the central part of the song. She has scorned him for everything that he embraced, the 'religion' that is mentioned earlier in the song. He has fallen behind the times, and what he epitomised is now something to be held in contempt, even mocked as the woman did.

In the second verse it is apparent that he is trying to learn about how a woman feels and thinks, trying to make up for the fact that he was a 'ladies' man'. She on the other hand has found someone with whom she is devoid of any love, but who gives her good sex.

And the last verse is an intresting one, but it suggests taht during the 60's and 70's there was a great union between to entities an 'affair' which has now fallen apart and has left everyone "vacant and deeply unimpressed".

And the last lines:

It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

Well they're just fascinating. They're nihilistic, but speak of doing something for its own sake.

I haven't yet analysed this song, so that's all I can give you right now. If I worked a little harder I could get more information out of it I suppose.

*******

You mean the lyrical sophistication of:

"Talking about my generation
Why don't they f-f-f-f-fade away"?

Doshii, I'll send you this one, it's got more complicated music. It was produced by Phil Spensor if that means anything to you.
 
Zakalwe said:
You mean the lyrical sophistication of:

"Talking about my generation
Why don't they f-f-f-f-fade away"?

Doshii, I'll send you this one, it's got more complicated music. It was produced by Phil Spensor if that means anything to you.

Hey, that was the early years.

One word: Quadrophenia. That's love, baby.
 
sada sakue said:
I confess that I may not be skilled enough in english to grasp what the song is about.

I can ask what you think about lyrics of the song "Coiffeur d'oiseaux"? Perhaps that would be a more applicable for lyric discussion, for anyone that knows and can understand the song anyway (literally understand, you don't need to have a good interpretation ^_^ ). Or maybe another song such as "Retour a vega". <------ Really good song.
 
How about this.
The ability to write lyrics doesnt make a musician. It makes a writer.
Thank you.

Now onward. My current favorite song (lyrically) is as follows.

Cygnet Committee - David Bowie
I bless you madly, sadly as I tie my shoes
I love you badly, just in time, at times, I guess
Because of you I need to rest
Because it's you that sets the test

So much has gone and little is new
And as the sparrow sings
Dawn chorus for
Someone else to hear
The Thinker sits alone growing older
And so bitter

"I gave Them life
I gave Them all
They drained my very soul...dry
I crushed my heart to ease Their pains
No thought for me remains there
Nothing can They spare
What of me?
Who praised Their efforts to be free?
Words of strength and care and sympathy
I opened doors that would have blocked Their way
I braved Their cause to guide, for little pay
I ravaged at my finance just for Those
Those whose claims were steeped in peace, tranquility
Those who said a new world, new ways ever free
Those whose promises stretched in hope and grace for me"

I bless you madly, sadly as I tie my shoes
I love you badly, just in time, at times, I guess
Because of you I need to rest, oh yes
Because it's you that sets the test

So much has gone and little is new
And as the sunrise stream
Flickers on me,
My friends talk
Of glory, untold dream, where all is God and God is just a word

"We had a friend, a talking man
Who spoke of many powers that he had
Not of the best of men, but Ours
We used him
We let him use his powers
We let him fill Our needs
Now We are strong

And the road is coming to its end
Now the damned have no time to make amends
No purse of token fortune stands in Our way
The silent guns of love will blast the sky

We broke the ruptured structure built of age
Our weapons were the tongues of crying rage
Where money stood
We planted seeds of rebirth
And stabbed the backs of fathers
Sons of dirt

Infiltrated business cesspools
Hating through Our sleeves
Yea, and We slit the Catholic throat
Stoned the poor on slogans such as

'Wish You Could Hear'
'Love Is All We Need'
'Kick Out The Jams'
'Kick Out Your Mother'
'Cut Up Your Friend'
'Screw Up Your Brother or He'll Get You In the End'

And We Know the Flag of Love is from Above
And We Can Force You to Be Free
And We Can Force You to Believe"

And I close my eyes and tighten up my brain
For I once read a book in which the lovers were slain
For they knew not the words of the Free States' refrain
It said:

"I believe in the Power of Good
I Believe in the State of Love
I Will Fight For the Right to be Right
I Will Kill for the Good of the Fight for the Right to be Right"

And I open my eyes to look around
And I see a child laid slain on the ground
As a love machine lumbers through desolation rows
Ploughing down man, woman, listening to its command
But not hearing anymore -
Not hearing anymore
Just the shrieks from the old rich

And I Want to Believe
In the madness that calls 'Now'
And I want to Believe
That a light's shining through
Somehow

And I Want to Believe
And You Want to Believe
And We Want to Believe
And We Want to Live
Oh, We Want to Live

We Want to Live
We Want to Live
We Want to Live
We Want to Live
We Want to Live

I Want to Live
I Want to Live
I Want to Live
I Want to Live
I Want to Live
I Want to Live

Live
Live
Live
 
A little of both, the way I see it.

I see the ending as what Nairan would become if they won. Oppressed to oppressor.

Read: And I close my eyes and tighten up my brain
For I once read a book in which the lovers were slain
For they knew not the words of the Free States' refrain


Soviet much?
 
A good friend of mine said that if there was a song to commit suicide to, it was this. I on the other hand feel happy everytime I hear it. Figures. But enjoy the wonderful tone, the feel that the subject has wasted his life and left nothing but an empty bleak future with the promise of things getting only worse!


Dress Rehearsal Rag

Four o'clock in the afternoon
and I didn't feel like very much.
I said to myself, "Where are you golden boy,
where is your famous golden touch?"
I thought you knew where
all of the elephants lie down,
I thought you were the crown prince
of all the wheels in Ivory Town.
Just take a look at your body now,
there's nothing much to save
and a bitter voice in the mirror cries,
"Hey, Prince, you need a shave."
Now if you can manage to get
your trembling fingers to behave,
why don't you try unwrapping
a stainless steel razor blade?
That's right, it's come to this,
yes it's come to this,
and wasn't it a long way down,
wasn't it a strange way down?

There's no hot water
and the cold is running thin.
Well, what do you expect from
the kind of places you've been living in?
Don't drink from that cup,
it's all caked and cracked along the rim.
That's not the electric light, my friend,
that is your vision growing dim.
Cover up your face with soap, there,
now you're Santa Claus.
And you've got a gift for anyone
who will give you his applause.
I thought you were a racing man,
ah, but you couldn't take the pace.
That's a funeral in the mirror
and it's stopping at your face.
That's right, it's come to this,
yes it's come to this,
and wasn't it a long way down,
ah wasn't it a strange way down?

Once there was a path
and a girl with chestnut hair,
and you passed the summers
picking all of the berries that grew there;
there were times she was a woman,
oh, there were times she was just a child,
and you held her in the shadows
where the raspberries grow wild.
And you climbed the twilight mountains
and you sang about the view,
and everywhere that you wandered
love seemed to go along with you.
That's a hard one to remember,
yes it makes you clench your fist.
And then the veins stand out like highways,
all along your wrist.
And yes it's come to this,
it's come to this,
and wasn't it a long way down,
wasn't it a strange way down?

You can still find a job,
go out and talk to a friend.
On the back of every magazine
there are those coupons you can send.
Why don't you join the Rosicrucians,
they can give you back your hope,
you can find your love with diagrams
on a plain brown envelope.
But you've used up all your coupons
except the one that seems
to be written on your wrist
along with several thousand dreams.
Now Santa Claus comes forward,
that's a razor in his mit;
and he puts on his dark glasses
and he shows you where to hit;
and then the cameras pan,
the stand in stunt man,
dress rehearsal rag,
it's just the dress rehearsal rag,
you know this dress rehearsal rag,
it's just a dress rehearsal rag.
 
Sunday Bloody Sunday - U2

I can't believe the news today
Oh, I can't close my eyes
And make it go away
How long...
How long must we sing this song?
How long? How long...
'cause tonight...we can be as one
Tonight...


Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn across the dead end street
But I won't heed the battle call
It puts my back up
Puts my back up against the wall


Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday


And the battle's just begun
There's many lost, but tell me who has won
The trench is dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart


Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday


How long...
How long must we sing this song?
How long? How long...
'cause tonight...we can be as one
Tonight...tonight...


Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday


Wipe the tears from your eyes
Wipe your tears away
Oh, wipe your tears away
Oh, wipe your tears away
(Sunday, Bloody Sunday)
Oh, wipe your blood shot eyes
(Sunday, Bloody Sunday)


Sunday, Bloody Sunday (Sunday, Bloody Sunday)
Sunday, Bloody Sunday (Sunday, Bloody Sunday)


And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die


(Sunday, Bloody Sunday)


The real battle just begun
To claim the victory Jesus won
On...


Sunday Bloody Sunday
Sunday Bloody Sunday...

And of course Bonos midsong rant in 1987 on the Rattle and Hum tour...

"Let me tell you something. I have had enough of Irish-Americans who haven't been back to 'their country' in twenty or thirty years come up to me and talk about 'the resistance', 'the revolution' back home and the 'glory' of the revolution and the glory of 'dying' for the revolution. Fuck the revolution! They don't talk about the glory of KILLING for the revolution! What's the glory in taking a man from his bed and gunning him down in front of his wife and children? Where's the glory in that? Where's the glory in bombing a Remembrance Day parade of old age pensioners, their medals taken out and polished up for the day? Where's the glory in that? To leave them dying or crippled for life or dead under the rubble of the revolution, that the majority of the people in my country don't want? Sing NO MORE!"
 
A great song about the Troubles in Ireland if I've ever heard one, and a very nice comment on the bottom. Now this is something I think all our American members should find fun:

"Democracy"

It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.
It's coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep
the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on ...

I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

I love it!
 
One of Cohens better works there.

Democracy - The Damned
Did you notice that just recently in London town
The flags all waved
The people smiled a lot, the world was right
But now it seems that nothing's changed
My ears are ringing with the promise
The promise that they'll right the wrongs
And that they're ever gonna give you
Democracy, Democracy (you wanna bet?)

We've been down this path a million times
And yet there seems no hope for us
These times are hard and yet the few do well
The rest can wallow in the dust
And if you're looking for the answers
You won't need a chrystal ball
'Cause they're not taking any chances on
Democracy, Democracy (not on you life)

Don't tell me revolution changed a thing in France
'Cept for a king or two
'Cause when it's Bastile Day a toxic time bomb ticks
In the Pacific blue
'Cause revolution changes nothing
And voting changes even less
'Cause it's only time you are wasting on
Democracy, Democracy (there's none round here)
 
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