Great Lyricists

I was asked the question, a few weeks ago: who do I think is a great lyricist today?  Who do I think is great at creating lyrics in music today?  It seems like it's getting harder and harder to find quality lyrics.  Even in some of my favorite bands, some of my favorite performers, the lyrics they write are not great.  More often than not, they're not even good.  They're mainly a patchwork of disjointed images, separated line by line, with no real connection between them.

As for singer/songwriters and the like, they lack something as well.  Bob Dylan is one of the first names that come to mind when people try to explain great lyrics, but I find even Bob's lyrics  too disjointed at times to be considered as great as most consider them.  Symbolism, imagery...these things are tools of poetry, and they are important, but they should not be the focus of poetry.  They should not be the subject of poetry, and that is where I find some of Bob Dylan's lyrics to be lacking.  A great set of lyrics can tell a story, whether it is a specific story or an ambiguous one, but a story that has a purpose.  Images are great, symbols are great, and they are important contributions to that one story.  They should not be the story.

Great lyrics should also have interesting phrases; interesting descriptions.  They should incorporate phrases that are unique and inventive.  In short, a great phrase in a lyric should be described as a phrase that "can't be told in a better way".  They can be direct, they don't have to be shrouded in mystery.  They can be said in any way, as long as they are said in the right way.

Great lyrics have to have memorable lines.  That's pretty much the point there.

Writing lyrics for Cadence Delicate has been a slow, turbulent growing process for me.  I know all the things I believe make great lyrics, and I want to implement them all, but actually doing so is much harder.  So far I have concentrated more on what I think makes lyrics great and tried to incorporate them, more than writing what I believe and how I feel, and editing from there.  To this point, I have not written many lyrics that I can say with utter certainty that I feel are great, but I know I am getting closer.

As for the original question: there are only a couple of artists I feel like, right now, I would call great lyricists, and they are even fewer if you ask me about current artists.  Here is one example of what I would call a great set of lyrics from a current artist.  TV on the Radio is one of the best bands I have ever heard, and have had the pleasure of seeing live.  This is a song of theirs off of their album "Return to Cookie Mountain".


"Wolf Like Me" (As performed by TV on the Radio)
by Tunde Adebimpe

Say say my playmate
wont you lay hands on me
mirror my malady
transfer my tragedy

Got a curse I cannot lift
shines when the sunset shifts
when the moon is round and full
gotta bust that box gotta gut that fish

My mind's aflame

We could jet in a stolen car
but I bet we wouldn't get too far
before the transformation takes
and bloodlust tanks and
crave gets slaked

My mind has changed
my body's frame but god I like it
my hearts aflame
my body's strained but god I like it

My mind has changed
my body's frame but god I like it
my hearts aflame
my body's strained but god I like it

Charge me your day rate
ill turn you out in kind
when the moon is round and full
gonna teach you tricks that'll blow your
mongrel mind
baby doll I recognize
you're a hideous thing inside
if ever there were a lucky kind it's
you you you you

I know its strange another way to get to know you
you'll never know unless we go so let me show you
I know its strange another way to get to know you
we've got till noon here comes the moon
so let it show you
show you now

Dream me oh dreamer
down to the floor
open my hands and let them
weave onto yours

Feel me, completer
down to my core
open my heart and let it
bleed onto yours

Feeding on fever
down all fours
show you what all that
howl is for

Hey hey my playmate
let me lay waste to thee
burned down their hanging trees
it's hot here hot here hot here hot here

Got a curse we cannot lift
shines when the sunset shifts
there's a cure comes with a kiss
the bite that binds the gift that gives

now that we got gone for good
writhing under your riding hood
tell your gra'ma and your mama too
it's true
we're howling forever

Italian Sonnet

One of my attempts at an italian sonnet.  I have been working on using form poetry as a conversation, in a large-scope view that we can find poetry - real, formed, honest poetry - in every day life, and I don't know how many people believe that anymore.


Nothing More
by Matt Catania

The white blank and the drudgery of it

The feeling of shame: it is nothing more

The person to blame: it is nothing more

Than white blank - and the drudgery of it.

The heart blank and the emptiness of it

The letters that came: it is nothing more

The reeling, the flame: it is nothing more

Than heart blank - and the emptiness of it.

The tears that fell full of compassion fell

The hearts that were broken well were broken

-              It is nothing more than inspiration.

The white blank tells no story.  Tells it well.

The heart blank passes through life unspoken.

-              It is nothing more than desperation.

 

New Poem

Follow Me Down the Well 

by Matt Catania 

Follow it down the topple well

wish the haze away

eyes are dreary, liquid, unclearly

a human fog

dim lights dismay.

Eyes grow dreary, deep, dark

dim lights dismay

Eye can see in the dark

clear precise, sharp

is the way

Eye can see in the dark

only one way

is the way

only one way

is my way

Only one thing can be said

Eye can see it

I can’t say it

I don’t know how.

 

Poetry of Nezahualcoyotl (Hungry Coyote)

This is going to sound silly possibly, but a long time ago I was interested in the poetry of an Aztec king named Nezahualcoyotl (translated: Hungry Coyote).  I may be (probably) wrong here, but from what I remember he was one of, if not the first truly dedicated philosopher -based vs. warrior based kings of the Aztecs...he wrote poetry, and mused on the real mystery that is life on Earth.  I don't recall much about what I learned from him, but I did find this great site of some of his poetry.  The site includes translated and un-translated versions of his poems.  Here is one of those poems I would like to share. (P.S. - I apologize for the small font: it is the only way I could maintain the integrity of the poem.)


2: The Flower Tree
by King Nezahualcoyotl

Begin the song in pleasure, singer, enjoy, give pleasure to all, even to Life Giver. Yyeo ayahui ohuaya.

Delight, for Life Giver adorns us. All the flower bracelets, your flowers, are dancing. Our songs are strewn in this jewel house, this golden house. The Flower Tree grow and shakes, already it scatters. The quetzal breathes honey, the golden quéchol breathes honey. Ohuaya ohuaya.

You have transformed into a Flower Tree, you have emerged, you bend and scatter. You have appeared before God's face as multi-colored flowers. Ohuaya ohuaya.

Live here on earth, blossom! As you move and shake, flowers fall. My flowers are eternal, my songs are forever: I raise them: I, a singer. I scatter them, I spill them, the flowers become gold: they are carried inside the golden place. Ohuaya ohuyaya.

Flowers of raven, flowers you scatter, you let them fall in the house of flowers. Ohuaya ohuyaya.

Ah, yes: I am happy, I prince NezahualCóyotl, gathering jewels, wide plumes of quetzal, I contemplate the faces of jades: they are the princes! I gaze into the faces of Eagles and Jaguars, and behold the faces of jades and jewels! Ohuaya ohuyaya.

We will pass away. I, NezahualCóyotl, say, Enjoy! Do we really live on earth? Ohuaya ohuaya!

Not forever on earth, only a brief time here! Even jades fracture; even gold ruptures, even quetzal plumes tear: Not forever on earth: only a brief time here! Ohuaya ohuaya!

 

Poem Needing Feedback 2

This is the type of poem that definitely needs feedback, even though most of it would probably not be positive.  It's ok though!  I'm open to any criticism, as you would most likely be if you are visiting this.


(What Love Sounds Like)
by Matt Catania

shhhhhhhhhhhhhSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHshhhhhhhhhhh!!!

huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe? huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe? huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe? huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?huhe?

WEEEEE!!!EEEEEEooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…

(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-(who)-

(haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.)

whhhsssssssSSSSHHHHHH!!!  <HUH>  __  <HUUUH> __  <HUH!>

huhHE?!   huhHE!  .  .  .  .  .                                                                  huh…he?

            huhHE.  huhHe.

AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh………….

littlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittlelittletingletingletingletingleTINGLETINGLETINGLE -

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

 

A Poem After Drinking

I wrote this poem after a night of drinking.  I would like to read other people's poems after they have been drinking.  Hopefully good poems after drinking...


A Hard Drink Night
by Matt Catania

I’m slapdash piss drunk

with sweat I don’t intend to make

I’m making a lot of noise

I don’t intend to make

I feel a cold sweat pore on the small

of my neck

as it drips form on my head

forehead…

sweatin’ whatever I didn’t intend to drink.

A Christmas CD is playing

in my CD player

on the first warm day of the year.

I don’t intend to make

a scene

but I play it out

like any fool who shouldn’t

I’m louder than quiet

I’m dumbly profound

or the other way ‘round.

Nah, I’m smart.

Eyes on me – normally

It’s scary – but see

how

it’s okay

now,

‘cuz

I don’t care.  No pig

drenched in shit and mud

is as crude as I –

but shit, it me, don’t

deal go.

I don’t intend to make

a friend tonight

I’m just gonna wear

my stool at the bar.

Sure I seem sad –

come talk to me!

Please: I want you

not to.

Just do.

Become sex

I don’t intend to make

tomorrow come.

Where did the time go?

It’s now,

now now

now now,

then then

was just a dream

(it did seem).

I don’t intend to make

Tomorrow.

I’m tired.

I’m home.

 

Poem Needing Feedback

I need someone to read these poems to tell me what they think of them, because I am not sure.


Paper Sound
by Matt Catania

I scream in my writing!

Paper never makes a sound.

My voice is so soothing

when no one is around.

Dynamic, abrasive scratches:

my power frightens -

trembles goes the ground.

Paper never makes a sound.

Cold and callous impressions

never yield to the pen and heart abound.

Paper never makes a sound.

Restless savage burning

found fast fastened and striking to be found.

Paper never makes a sound.

My call is a comet!

Caught streaking across these skies -

that screams dynamic and savage -

with restless power of heart -

from a soothing voice -

that no one is around.

Paper never makes a sound.