Thursday, April 6, 2023

A Real Communication Flair (Part 2) The Power (and Failure) of Words

 

A Real Communication Flair

 

2.  The power (and failure) of words.

 

Ron Mael is surely one of the most gifted lyric writers of our time, with a unique way with words. His lyrics delight with words and phrases that are unexpected, even unprecedented, in a pop song, mixing different registers of speech, the elegant and poetic alongside slang and (occasionally) swear words. They use language deftly to conjure up a variety of emotions, often working on a number of different, even seemingly contradictory, levels and abounding in cultural references and jokes.  Ron has spoken of ‘always trying to find ways to express things in ways that are unorthodox’ and of the ‘undercurrent of feeling beneath the surface’ of the humour.  Of course, many songs are also mind-blowingly overflowing with words, a challenge to which Russell, as singer, has always risen admirably., and we must remember that Russell too has penned the lyrics of a number of songs. Many Sparks’ songs also explore the subject of language itself, its meaning and usages, and this theme is the topic of this essay.

Language and communication are fundamental to the human condition and many Sparks’ songs explore different aspects of communication in scenarios that are tragic, dramatic or humorous, and often all of those at once! The songs are mini-dramas, involving many different situations and protagonists (not to be confused with Ron or Russell) who tell their story, comment on their feelings or complain of their problems, and in so doing, reveal their desires, anxieties and insecurities. The listener is challenged to interpret and read between the lines to glimpse the personality and motivation of the narrators or the reality of their situation, even, perhaps, to imagine their back story. Often the subtext speaks more to us than the words themselves. Relationships are a central theme, and the lyrics reveal a constant connection between language and sexual relations and anxieties. But Sparks’ songs far transcend this topic, highlighting many other aspects of human experience of daily life.

Inarticulacy and the inadequacy of language

Like the other inadequacies that humans experience, inarticulacy or the failure of language to communicate are an important part of Sparks’ lyrical armoury. This is, of course, deeply ironic, for Ron’s lyrics are supremely articulate.

‘Popularity ‘ (from 1983 album In Outer Space), for example, is a wonderful encapsulation of the theme of poverty of language, in that communication is reduced to its  most banal level in the lyrics themselves. The limited and prosaic experience of the narrator, an eager and self-satisfied young male, is reflected in the language he uses to describe it. His relationship with a girlfriend is explained as ‘I like you and you like me a lot/And we do those things that can make us feel hot’, and their friends are ‘all right’ – ‘maybe that’s why we’re friends’ he says, groping towards an understanding of the dynamics of friendship. His description of his pastimes (driving into town to meet his friends at a place the name of which he can’t remember and having a cuddle in his car) lack any detail or colour other than repetitions of the overworked adjectives ‘nice’ or ‘great’. He wants to communicate that these things demonstrate his popularity on the social scene (such as it is) but, sadly, lacks both self-awareness and the linguistic resources to do so.

A different view of the inadequacy of language to communicate complex feelings is explored in ‘Bummer’ (Hippopotamus, 2017), another example of Sparks’ ability to dissect a situation with which many can identify. Here, the multi-layered and often ambivalent feelings of a friend or relative at a funeral are seen as impossible to condense into a brief public speech. This narrator’s relationship with the departed is complicated, with unresolved tensions, as are his feelings about his friend’s sudden passing. He feels alienated by the emptiness of the other speakers’ contributions, perhaps attempting to emulate majestic speeches seen on TV or quote Shakespeare or the Bible (‘You deserve something more, but they go through the motions’), but for him they are second-hand and inappropriate, because ‘they don’t know you’.  When invited to speak, he is conscious of expectations of ‘thoughts everlasting’, but seems overwhelmed by the impossibility of voicing his thoughts in public. How to sum up a lifetime in a single phrase? Their past relationship seems to involve petty crimes, romantic rivalry and the ‘best of times’, and the unexpected death of his friend seems random and incomprehensible: as the chorus reiterates: ‘You never, never, never know’. He tries to express his feelings in an internal conversation to which only we, immersed in his point of view, are privy:  a promise not to hit on the widow (‘though she still drives me crazy’) and belated regret at an apparent falling out: ‘what I said angrily/I should have kept to me’. The importance of words, their appropriateness or otherwise, and a reminder of how relationships are founded (and indeed, can flounder) on verbal communication pervade this song. It is too late now for reparation and his feelings can only be summed up in just one word,  ‘bummer’, its register socially unacceptable and seemingly flippant in this solemn context, but in fact bursting with different layers of emotion and meaning for the speaker.

This same idea appears in ‘Rosebud’ (Music That You Can Dance To, 1986), a song that draws its inspiration from Orson Welles’ film Citizen Kane (1941). It recounts the aftermath of an accident in which a beautiful young woman lies serious injured in the street. ( Kane’s first wife and son are killed in a car accident.) The narrator tries to comfort his beloved (although his assertion that ‘You look helpless/There is beauty in pain’ is unsettling) by painting verbal pictures of a happy future together while suppressing his fear. Once again, what has happened is incomprehensible (‘Without a warning/Without a reason/ There wasn’t even a scream’) and he refuses to call it tragic because ‘that gives it meaning’. Once again, words are inadequate. The link with Citizen Kane is most clearly effected in the last verse: ‘In a movie, a life can be summed up in a word/It’s a useful dramatic device/In the real world, with real flesh and real blood/ One word is never, ever enough’ and the song finishes, like the film, with the enigmatic word ‘Rosebud’. The plot of Citizen Kane hinges on the attempts to unravel the meaning of the wealthy tycoon’s dying words which are, at the end, demystified for the viewer by a close-up of his childhood sled with the name ‘Rosebud’ painted on it as it is cast, with other worldly goods, into the incinerator. In the movie, the word acts as a symbol which brings together previous images and thereby gains meaning, illuminating Kane’s life and character, but real life is not neatly structured and edited in this way. Ironically, of course, the song demands recognition of the implicit referencing of Citizen Kane to explain the otherwise mysterious use of the word at the end of the song. As in ‘Edith Piaf Said It Better Than Me’, Sparks have referenced other well-known words and put their own spin on them to evoke new depths of meaning. Sparks sure love to challenge the listener.

The inability to communicate is explored in a different way in ‘Probably Nothing’ (Hippopotamus, 2017), a short but intensely poignant scenario that will resonate with many fans of the same generation as Sparks. The narrator is afflicted with a degree of memory loss that often comes with age, and can not recall what it was he wanted to impart. He optimistically hopes that ‘it will come when it comes’ and covers his embarrassment by suggesting it was ‘probably nothing’ anyway. Yet, he is left feeling frustrated, dumb and awkward and aware of the ‘mild disappointment’ on the face of the person to whom he is talking, as they ‘walk away’. This he interprets as because they were expecting some important pronouncement (‘what was it that you thought I might say?’) but it could also be sadness that this ‘happens a lot recently’. The failure in communication here opens up a wide range of emotions and reactions, not least a sense of loss of intimacy, in what is a brief and deceptively simple song. So typically Sparks!

Next up:  How we use (and abuse) language.

 

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