[Katy Evans-Bush]

But tom, that;s what I meant! I meant if a poem's workign as a poem, ifd all the music it needs is being supplied by the words, if it's realising itself, it can't necessarily accommodate the music as well. But twee etc, well it was crying out for a setting.

Janet, of course you know more than the rest of us put together about poems set to music - you have the advantage! I was sort of more thinking of pop music because that's what people were posting.

However, I do think even if it works, the music will drown out the verbal complexities. I'm not saying it's bad, I love music as you know -it's just a different thing.


KEB

[This message has been edited by Katy Evans-Bush (edited January 25, 2005).]

[Mark Blaeuer]

Sometimes whether the music drowns out the verbal subtlety of the poem (that's been set to music) depends on the singer. I have several recordings of the Vaughan-Williams song cycle On Wenlock Edge taken from Housman. My least favorite is the one where the tenor (I won't mention his name) just sort of belts it out, as if admiring his own vocal richness and power. My favorite is by Ian Partridge, where he used a thinner voice for the ghost in "Is My Team Ploughing" than for the rest of the song (and by the way, I'm with V-W that the poem was improved by leaving out one stanza). So it's not all the composer's fault. And maybe I just like poems set to music, but for instance I love the Peter Schickele setting of Cummings's "All in Green Went My Love Riding". Sometimes, one particular aspect of the poem is underlined by a musical setting (thinking now of Hamilton Camp's version of Yeats's Innisfree poem, which is quite melancholy). I too, am bothered when I read liner notes that proclaim, say, Neil Young "the leading poet of our times" or some such. Much as I like ol' Neil when I'm in the mood for him. I also think that in our society it's a much higher compliment to be compared to a poet than to be called one, e.g. a true poet among garbage collectors, and the "star-maker machinery" (to quote Joni Mitchell) especially applies this to pop singers, such that we're often surprised to see how weak some lyrics are when divorced from their music.

I do admire many lyrics of Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, and others. At their best, they can stand alone. Annette Peacock comes to mind here as well, but I don't have any of her lyrics written out. Just recalling them from the music now.

And by the way, some musical settings are just good for a laugh. Thinking now of Thomas Rapp's country-western setting of part of Shakespeare's Sonnet #65.

Well, enough rant. I realize I'm straying from the thread's intent, but I wanted to lend additional support to Janet, not that she needed any.

[This message has been edited by Mark Blaeuer (edited January 25, 2005).]

[Robert E. Jordan]

<u>Salve Máter</u>

(Refrain)
Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

1
Sálve, décus humáni géneris,
Sálve Vírgo dígnior céteris,
Quæ vírgines ómnes transgréderis,
et áltius sédes in súperis,
O María!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

2
Sálve félix Vírgo puérpera:
Nam qui sédet in Pátris déxtera,
Caélum régens, térram et aéthera,
Intrá túa se cláusit víscera,
O María!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

3
Te creávit Páter ingénitus,
Adamávit te Unigénitus,
Fecundávit te sánctus Spíritus,
Tu és fácta tóta divínitus,
O María!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

4
Te creávit Déus mirábilem,
Te respéxit ancíllam húmilem,
Te quæsívit spónsam amábilem,
Tíbi múmquam fécit consímilem,
O María!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

5
Te beátam laudáre cúpiunt
Omnes jústi, sed non suffíciunt;
Múltas láudes de te concípiunt,
Sed in íllis prórsus defíciunt,
O Mária!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

6
Esto, Máter, nóstrum solátium;
Nóstrum ésto, tu Vírgo, gáudium;
Et nos tándem post hoc exsílium,
Laétos júnge chóris cæléstium,
O Mária!

Salve máter misericórdiæ,
Máter Déi, et máter véniæ,
Máter spéi, et máter grátiæ,
máter pléna sanctæ lætítiæ.
O María!

[Janet Kenny]

Mark,
I can't resist telling you that I sang with Ian Partridge once, or beside him anyway. He was the marvellous Evangelist in Bach's St Matthew Passion and I was the alto.

Katy, in theory of course you are correct about the self-sufficiency of poetry but I know so many songs where the accompaniment alone--let alone the vocal line--illuminates the essence and nuances of the poem. I honestly don't think it's possible to generalise.

What worries me most about many people's idea of song is a loss of a sense of the possibilities of the human voice. They seem positively embarrassed by a voice which does more than speak.

I remember hearing an interview with De Los Angeles who talked almost entirely about her love of poetry. I have always been fascinated by the apparent barrier between music and poetry. It wasn't always the case.

We all want to write a poem that is so complete any musical interference would interrupt and lessen it.

Sometimes the music raises even a great poem to greater heights. Most often in a successful song a good poem is realised and shown in a new but not destructive light. Debussy is one of those. Schubert another.
Janet

[nyctom]

Back at the close of the last millennium, famous musicians were asked by Playboy magazine to name their top ten songs of the millennium. Not surprisingly, no musicians named a song earlier than the late 19th century, with the exception of one sterling singer/songwriter: Richard Thompson (who's a helluva lyricist as well as one of the Great Guitar Gods Of Our Time; quite a few of his lyrics could appear in this thread, and I must admit I much prefer his work to Dylan, soulless heretic that I am). Thompson took the idea and created an entire concert out of it. Just for shits and giggles, this is the set list from his cd 1000 Years of Popular Music. The first song is the oldest extant round in the English tradition (from 1068):

1. Sumer Is Icumen In
2. King Henry V's Conquest of France
3. When I Am Laid in Earth
4. So Ben Mi Ca Bon Tempo
5. Shenandoah
6. Blackleg Miner
7. Waiting at the Church
8. Trafalgar Square
9. There Is Beauty...
10. Where Have All My Loved Ones Gone?
11. Old Rocking Chair's Got Me
12. Orange-Coloured Sky
13. Cry Me a River
14. Drinking Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee
15. A Legal Matter
16. Tempted
17. Kiss
18. Oops! I Did It Again (yes, the Brittany song--it's quite hilarious on acoustic guitar. Thompson said, strip away the fripperies and it is not a bad pop song--he's right!)
19. Sam Hall
20. Money
21. It Won't Be Long
22. Marry, Ageyn Hic Hev Donne It


Yes, you could argue that it's all Western music, mostly 20th century, and so on and on, but who cares? It's a marvelous idea for an album (and concert). By the way--and not surprisingly--Playboy didn't include his list among the ones they published. (!)

Richard's ex-wife, Linda Thompson (now Linda Kenis, though she still performs under the Thompson name--and she's one of the best singers in pop/folk music) said something I completely agree with:Poets rarely make good lyricists, with notable exceptions like Patti Smith and Leonard Cohen. While I might add a name or two to the list, I really think they--poems and songs--are qualitatively different.

And that isn't a bad thing. I just wish books and music took up less space: my apartment looks like Barnes and Noble merged with Tower Records and decided to open a small uptown boutique.

[Janet Kenny]

Tom,
That's a great list. I don't know all of them but those I do know receive my hearty support. The song from Purcell's Dido is one of my personal favourites--what an inadequate word "favourite" is.

When I was a very young singer who had never set foot outside New Zealand I gave my first song recital. Here are the composers I included in my confused program of "I can do this" singing. I had to be persuaded to leave a great many others out of the program.

Schoenberg (an entire song cycle that drove my father to desperation)
Dowland; Handel; Mozart; Hugo Wolf; Canteloube (Auvergne songs); Mahler; Strauss; Falla; Charles Ives; J. C. Bach (Vauxhall Garden songs).
My audience must have had even more stamina than I did.

I observe from my shelter that "young people today" (I knew I'd have to say that eventually are so overwhelmed by mediocre quantity that the big picture is lost. Most people operate in a continuous wall of sound. They need it to reduce their body tension in the midst of cars and sirens and news stories that terrify us all. They play sound at us in supermarkets and shopping malls, elevators, airports--everywhere. Sound is devalued and because of this people are less receptive to it. It is one of the worst forms of pollution. I think it has greatly affected poetry and the way people think about poetry.
Janet

PS: Right now my neighbours are keeping themselves on the rails as their two toddlers scream by playing extruded music with a loud bass beat that is combining with the screaming to drive me up the wall. No poetry from me this morning.


[This message has been edited by Janet Kenny (edited January 25, 2005).]

[Katy Evans-Bush]

Tom, I went to see RT play that gig at Sadlers Wells - apparently he was playnig slightly different songs each night, and I didn't take notes (surprisingly) so I can't remember exactly what he did play... he has a great voice, doesn't he. But he did convert to Islam, make Linda convert too, and then move to CA with somebody else when Linda was pregnant with their fourth child. It sorta put me off.

It was my then partner who was so crazy about him, anyway (he used to have this big rant about Mark Knopfler's guitar technique...), but it was nice to go to the gig - like catching up on an old friend in a way! And the Britney Spears song, he played it but I was a bit slow on the uptake. I must live a sheltered life - I barely knew it.

I'm glad Cry me a River is on the list, but what about I Get a Kick out of You, or something from Guys & Dolls?

Also, thinking of older music - any pre-1000 songs? And what's a "song," anyway?

Janet, I totally give you your point. I find it odd how embarrassed people are about voices, and you see that in poetry readings too.

KEB

[Kate Benedict]

Lots of "strains" in this thread, high brow, low brow, middle brow ... I'm in a bluesy lowdown mood myself. For some reason, I love to sing along (badly) to this record from 1958, lyrics by Lloyd Price. Variations appear here and there but I took these lyrics right from the record. For more about the fascinating history of this song, click on
http://www.searchspaniel.com/index.php/Stagger_Lee


STAGGER LEE


(intro) The night was clear,
and the moon was yellow
And the leaves came tumblin' down. . .

I was standing on a corner
When I heard my bull dog bark
He was barking at the two men
Who were gambling in the dark

It was Stagger Lee and Billy
Two men who gambled late
Stagger Lee threw a seven,
Billy swore that he threw eight

Stagger Lee told Billy
"I can't let you go with that
You have won all my money
And my brand new Stetson hat."

Then old Stagger Lee, he went home
And he got his forty-four
He said "I'm going down to the barroom
To pay that debt I owe"

bridge: Go, Stagger Lee!

Stagger Lee went to the barroom
And he stared across the barroom door
He said, "Nobody move"
And he pulled out his forty-four

"Oh, Stagger Lee," cried Billy
"Oh please don't take my life
I got three little children
And a very sickly wife"

Stagger Lee shot Billy
Oh, he shot that poor boy so bad
till the bullet went through Billy
And broke the bartender's glass.

[Mark Allinson]

Kate, I have always loved that song. I recall P.J.Proby made it a hit in the late 60s.

While we are in the low-down bluesy shooting zone, I am always moved by this one. And, surprisingly, Cher does a great rocky version of this.

Bang Bang

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...

[Clay Stockton]

Originally posted by Janet Kenny:
Surely that's a powerful, dramatic musical monologue rather than a song?

It packs a wallop and I like it but...

Janet

(I meant the Cohen)

Unfortunately, Leonard Cohen's croak turns just about any "song" into a monologue. It is what it is.

But maybe you meant compositionally, i.e., the relationship between the lyric and the music. I'm out of my depth there, especially with you. But it does seem to me like the words fit in the melody pretty well, even though the arrangement is that God-awful arch-Eighties now-let-us-bow-to-the-synthesizer crap.

The distinction you're making reminds me of the line between poetry and prose from that other thread. I think the consensus there was that while one flies or sparkles or whistles or bats .300 or something, the other doesn't feel as good and is therefore an entirely different thing. Maddening stuff for a parser like me.

I'll just say that I like Leonard's recordings. There's music behind them, and he's not really just talking, and he calls them songs, so I don't mind calling them songs too. 'Nuff said.

--CS