Anybody can write a great single, but the following people have consistently shown a mastery of song lyricosity. i've included samples of why. There was no way i was going to limit this to 5; this was a difficult list to narrow down and to find good examples for, so arguments and/or better examples are welcome.
Elliot Smith: "Now on the bus/Nearly touching this dirty retreat/Falling out 6th and Powell a dead sweat in my teeth"
Cole Porter: "I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences/Gaze at the moon till I lose my senses/I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences/Don't fence me in."
Natalie Merchant: "Ophelia was a tempest cyclone/A goddamn hurricane/Your common sense, your best defense/Lay wasted and in vain"
John Lennon: "It's getting hard to be someone/But it all works out/It doesn't matter much to me"
Bright Eyes: "This is the first day of my life/I swear I was born right in the doorway/I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed/They're spreading blankets on the beach"
Elton John: "Jesus freaks out in the street/Handing tickets out for god/Turning back she just laughs/The boulevard is not that bad"
Death Cab for Cutie: "I strain my eyes and try/To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites/.../do they collide?" I ask and you smile./With my feet on the dash/The world doesn't matter."
Willie Nelson: "'Cause you paid the price to come too far,/ Just to wind up where you are, /And you're still just across the borderline"
Lauryn Hill: "Coursing through my senses, he's prevailing /Floating through the space of my design /Drowning me to find my inside sailing /Drinking in the mainstream of his mind"
Derren Raser: "Girls used to wear skirts long and i don't know what's gone wrong/Now they've all got legs/That seems to make them want to run away/Maybe that's why i can't get a single one to stay"
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Time Thieves
Gem of the Moment
"The elevator, which had haunted its untidy shaft for a hundred years, came wafting skyward, dragging its ungodly chains and dread intestines after. The door exhaled open. The lift groaned as if we had trod its stomach. In a great protestation of ennui, the ghost sank back toward earth." -Green Shadows, White Whale
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6 comments:
just this morning jason and i had a conversation about what an amazing lyricist ben gibbard (dcfc) was! yay! i also have some to add to the list. arguably one of the top three EVER, my fave, bob dylan:
"Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'."
also, i think i'd choose mccartney over lennon, just b/c he wrote all my favorite beatles songs, blackbird, hey jude, rocky raccoon etc. i also admire aimee mann as a lyricist. natalie merchant is a great one to have on the list, very poetic. three cheers for five fridays!
(oh yeah, you forgot britney, "i'm a slaaaaaaaaaaaaavvve for you." she has the amazing ability to turn a one sylable word into a thirteen sylable word. that's talent.)
sorry, its me again, i just really love this topic!! good one kal!
i have to add the beastie boys cuz i LOVE them and their lyrics are awesome...
- "Yea, You Know I'm Getting Silly
I've Got A Grandma Hazel And A Grandma Tilly..." (who doesn't love a grandma shoutout?!)
- "Let's Kick The S*** Off 'Cause Yo, I'm Not The Herb
Well, It's Not The Herb But The Spice With The Flavor To Spare..."
kick it.
Sage Francis, the only hip-hop artist on a punk rock record label...
Had I known then what I know now
Had I thought now what I knew then..
I might still be human
with all the little stupid fix-ins
As I fix sins and vixens vick souls
Stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles
Nail me to the cross dress
The holy cloth costs less
I'd toss less
if I still had your soft breasts to rest my head on
Since you've been gone
I recalled my issues with problems and hate
but I can't exactly remember the model or make
Now glass bottles break in my death grip
I'm about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip
My bed is stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and
sheets,
but I might have to peel off all my skin to remove your scent in
order to sleep
I had my highs and lows
When on top, I let you peek out over my nose
Sitting on my shoulders and I suppose if I had a backbone,
you might still be here
My skin is filthy..
from my lows when you weren't there. But to keep from feeling
guilty
I collected the dirt...Kept it piling up
Now Mr Feel Nothing saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks. And he forgets that he's an asshole
Jealous of his ghosts and doubts that he even has a soul
My secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping
I'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal mosters
sing
I'm sitting in a strangers tub..
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the dangers of
love.
They get half of what I have to give...IF THAT
It's all about the packaging. They're distracted by the gift
rap.
Predictable. Easy to manipulate
They're foreshadow puppets and I'm waiting for their strings to
break.
The pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken
out.
I'm in my last days now. There's a change coming soon.
I just want to crawl back into my mother's womb
I need a comfort zone,
But obviously I need to find another home
To call my own...and always return to
and I want it to be you
I sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating memories to remember and then I forget to eat.
Went to the street you used to live on, staring at the bedroom
window of your old home
with puppy eyes...waiting for God to throw me a bone.
I'd settle for one more goodbye kiss while I settle for less
I'm unsettled at best. Sulking while abandoning settlements
Insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with baby talk
Playing with mind games. Rehearsing with playful thought.
Its the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you made me walk through rain and mud puddles down a dirt
road.
it left me so messy
forget me..
not
I've got more mud to sling...
Shot.
also, you should really, really listen to The Weakerthans if you want songwriting genius. i suggest 'reconstruction site' as a good place to start.
I would have to agree with Travis on Sage Francis - definitely one of the best underground hip-hop artists. Along with Atmosphere, Eyedea and Abilities, and Aesop Rock.
Other possibilities (I won't add lyrics because I assume this will be a long list):
Ben Harper
Ben Folds
Conor Oberst (is Bright Eyes, just FYI)
Whoever does Silverchair's lyrics
Billy Joel
Andre 3000 (Outkast)
Tom Waits
Lars Ulrich (Metallica's drummer, even though he's a Napster-hating prick)
Beck
Thom York (Radiohead)
Adam Duritz (Counting Crows)
Fiona Apple
Bjork
Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters/Nirvana)
Kurt Cobain
Billy Joe Armstrong (Green Day)
Billy Corgan
2Pac
Eminem
Liam and Noel Gallagher (Oasis)
Ozzy
Marilyn Manson
Maynard (Tool/Perfect Circle)
Trent Reznor (NIN)
Zack De La Rocha (Rage Against the Machine)
Dave Matthews
Bono
Paul Simon
Michael Stipe (REM)
Since you mentioned Bob, I'd have to add Jakob Dylan as well (ok, i'll add one song's lyrics):
So long ago, I don't remember when
That's when they say I lost my only friend
Well, they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
As I listened through the cemetery trees
I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn
The long broken arm of human law
Now, it always seemed such a waste
She always had a pretty face
I wondered why she hung around this place
(CHORUS):
Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than
In the middle
But me and Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight
She said it's cold
It feels like Independence Day
And I can't break away from this parade
But there's got to be an opening
Somewhere here in front of me
Through this maze of ugliness and greed
And I seen the sun up ahead
At the county line bridge
Sayin' all there's good and nothingness is dead
We'll run until she's out of breath
She ran until there's nothin' left
She hit the end, it's just her window ledge
(CHORUS)
Well, this place is old
It feels just like a beat up truck
I turn the engine, but the engine doesn't turn
Well, it smells of cheap wine and cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn
I'm so alone, and I feel just like somebody else
Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
I think of death, it must be killin' me...
(CHORUS)
So many good lyricists...Paul Simon is my personal favorite. The only name I have to add would be Emily Saliers (one half of the Indigo Girls). If you haven't heard Ghost, you gotta. A small excerpt:
I see your face before me
It would launch a thousand ships
to bring your heart back to my island
as the sand beneath me slips
I burn up in your presence
and I know now how it feels
to be weakened like Achilles
with you always at my heals.
I'm writing this secretly, because if Jeff knew he'd make me add Jimmy Buffet too, but my vote is also for Paul Simon:
The last train is nearly due
The underground is closing soon
And in the dark deserted station
Restless in anticipation
A man waits in the shadows
His restless eyes leap and scratch
At all that they can touch or catch
And hidden deep within his pocket
Safe within its silent socket
He holds a colored crayon
Now from the tunnel's stony womb
The carriage rides to meet the groom
And open wide and welcome doors
But he hesitates, and then withdraws
Deeper in the shadows
And the train is gone suddenly
On wheels clicking silently
Like a gently tapping litany
And he holds his crayon rosary
Tighter in his hand
Now from his pocket quick he flashes
The crayon on the wall he slashes
Deep upon the advertising
A single worded poem consisting
Of four letters
And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding
The poem across the tracks rebounding
Shadowed by the exit light
His legs take their ascending flight
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night
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