I guess one could say that songs are considered as poetry. Lyrical poetry at least, seeing as they contain several of tyhe same elements such as rhyme, rhythm, and so on.
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I guess one could say that songs are considered as poetry. Lyrical poetry at least, seeing as they contain several of tyhe same elements such as rhyme, rhythm, and so on.
Hmm, St Lukes, what do you make of the Hesse and Eichendorff that Strauss set for the Four Last Songs?
Of course I may be biased in that Strauss' Last Four Songs are among my absolute favorite works. Obviously Eichendorff and Hesse are both major German poets. I stupidly didn't pick up the copy of the Complete Poems of Hermann Hesse that I came across a good number of years back. The introduction to the book was written by Thomas Mann who stated that his friend and peer was sometimes underrated as a novelist... perhaps in comparison with Mann's own work... but that his abilities as a lyrical poet were unquestionable. Most of the poems were quite brief and lyrical... and not overly challenging for my rudimentary German... that is even less than rudimentary now.
The poems strike me as simple, lyrical pieces chosen as they suggest the passing of the seasons and how that alludes to the transience of life. There is surely a certain musicality to the original German lyrics... but I'd need to live with them a while... or read them in context to a larger body of the work to develop a greater feel for them. Obviously, reading poetry in another language without a deep knowledge of that language... its history, uses, literature etc... demands that the work be read with good notes that will draw attention to certain allusions or precedents for a certain turn of phrase etc... although perhaps no such critical commentary will lead us to as deep of an understanding of the poems as Strauss' music.
I am going to borrow this sentence from you, although I will not be returning it, most likely.:eek2:Quote:
Originally Posted by JCamilo
Sixsmith isn't altogether wrong though. Popular music is sort of a pap smear unto itself, slurped with regret when we're forced to drink condensed milk.
I don't listen to commercial radio anymore. My ex-fiance, who makes Falstaff as Anthony Hopkins seem credible, thinks Michael Jackson was a genius. I think Michael Jackson was manufactured, to borrow from our resident anti-Mozart fellow.
But I conveniently remembered my academic training and thought a definition of lyric poetry would be useful:
"Lyric Poetry consists of a poem, such as a sonnet or an ode, that expresses the thoughts and feelings of the poet. The term lyric is now commonly referred to as the words to a song. Lyric poetry does not tell a story which portrays characters and actions. The lyric poet addresses the reader directly, portraying his or her own feeling, state of mind, and perceptions."
http://www.types-of-poetry.org.uk/31-lyric-poetry.htm
It ain't the same as song lyrics, and I knew that before I interjected myself into this debate, but the wall between lyric and stanza really isn't hard and fast. American record labels can certainly make it feel that way, however.
Cheers!
Valikie
Out of the many posts, this one attract my attention. I believe it is possible for anyone to participate.
Excellent ! I like it very much.
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I remeber in WRT compostion 101 one of the assignments was to select song selects and write an interpretation (my first year of college), I also remember in my American poety class as a last day fun activitiy we got to bring in one song for everyone to listen to with printed out lyrics and we read it as "poetry." I think vocal music has poetic qualities, but like JCamillo I think of it as its own thing. The song I selected for both assignments was NOFX's The Decline:
NOFX
The Decline (1999)
The Decline
Where are all the stupid people from?
And how'd they get to be so dumb?
Bred on purple mountain range
Feed amber waves of grains
To lesser human beings, zero feelings
Blame it on
Human nature, mans destiny (mans destiny)
Blame it on the greediocracy (greediocracy)
Fear of God
The fear of change
The fear of truth
Add the Bill of Rights, subtract the wrongs
There's no answers
Memorize and sing star spangled songs
When the questions
Aren't ever asked
Is anybody learning from the past?
We're living in united stagnation
Father what have I done?
I took that 22
A gift to me from you
To bed with me each night
Kept it clean
Polished it well
Cherished every cartridge, every shell
Down, by the creek, under brush, under dirt
There's a carcass of my second kill
Down, by the park, under stone, under pine
There's a carcass of my brother William
Brother where, have you gone to?
I swear, I never thought I could
I see so many times
They told me to shoot straight
Don't pull the trigger, squeeze
That will insure a kill
A kill is what you want
A kill is why we breed
The Christians love their guns
The church and NRA
Pray for their salvations
Prey on the lower faiths
The story book's been read
And every line believed
Curriculum's been set
Logic is a threat
Reason searched and seized
Jerry spent some time in Michigan
A twenty year vacation, after all he had a dime
A dime is worth a lot more in Detroit
A dime in California, a twenty dollar fine
Jerry only stayed a couple months
It's hard to enjoy yourself while bleeding out the ***
Asphyxiation is simple and fast
It beats seventeen fun years of being someones *****
Don't think (Stay)
Drink your wine (Home)
Watch the fire burn (Be)
His problems not mine (Safe)
Just be that model citizen
I wish I had a schilling
(For each senseless killing)
For every senseless killing
I'd buy a government
America's for sale
And you can get a good deal on it
(A good deal on it)
And make a healthy profit
Or maybe, tear it apart
Start with assumption
That a million people are smart
Smarter than one
Serotonin's gone
She gave up, drifted away
Sara fled, thought process gone
She left her answering machine on
The greeting left spoken sincere
Messages no one will ever hear
Ten thousand messages a day
A million more transmissions lay
Victims of the laissez faire
Ten thousand voices, a hundred guns
A hundred decibels turns to one
One bullet, one empty head
Now with Serotonin gone
The man who used to speak
Performs a cute routine
Feel a little patronized
Don't feel bad
They found a way inside your head
And you feel a bit misled
It's not that they don't care, yeah
The television's put a thought inside your head
Llike a Barry Manilow, jingle
I'd like, to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
A symphonic blank stare, yeah
It doesn't make you care (make you care)
Not designed to make you care (make you care)
They're betting you won't care (you won't...)
Place a wager on your greed
A wager on your pride
Why try to beat them when, a million others tried?
We are the whore
Intellectually spayed
We are the queer
Dysfunctionally raised
One more pill to kill the pain
One more pill to kill the pain
One more pill to kill the pain
Living through conformity
One more prayer to keep me safe
One more prayer to keep us warm
One more prayer to keep us safe
There's gonna be a better place
Lost the battle, lost the war
Lost the things worth living for
Lost the will to win the fight
One more pill to kill the pain
Na na na na na
La na na na na
Na na na na na
Na na na na na
The going get tough, the tough get debt
Don't pay attention, pay the rent
Next of kins pay for your sins
A little faith should keep us safe
Save us
The human, existence
Is failing, resistance
Essential, the future
Written off, the odds are
Astronomically against us
Only moron and genius
Would fight a losing battle
Against the super ego
When giving in is so damn comforting
And so we go, on with our lives
We know the truth, but prefer lies
Lies are simple, simple is bliss
Why go against tradition when we can
Admit defeat, live in decline
Be the victim of our own design
The status quo, built on suspect
Why would anyone stick out their neck?
Fellow members
Club "We've Got Ours"
I'd like to introduce you to our host
He's got his, and I've got mine
Meet the decline
We are the queer
We are the whore
Ammunition
In the class war
We are worker
We love our queen
We sacrifice
We're soilent green
We are the queer
We are the whore
Ammunition
In the class war
Ugh, sorry to get so repetitious, but, I think, ever since seeing the man live weeks ago, I have grown a bit obsessed. Another triumph from Dylan himself:
Quote:
Tomorrow is a Long Place
If today was not an endless highway,
If tonight was not a crooked trail,
If tomorrow wasn't such a long time,
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,
Then I'd lie in my bed once again.
I can't see my reflection in the waters,
I can't speak the sounds that show no pain,
I can't hear the echo of my footsteps,
Or can't remember the sound of my own name.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,
Then I'd lie in my bed once again.
There's beauty in the silver, singin' river,
There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky,
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty
That I remember in my true love's eyes.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,
Then I'd lie in my bed once again.
Of course it is! And what beautiful poetry, too!
Or:Quote:
Together we cry…
Together we cry…
Jenny was a poor girl
Living in a rich world
Named her baby Hope when she was just fourteen
She was hoping for a better world
For this little girl
But the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree
Well she gets that call
Hope’s too far gone
Her baby’s on the way
But nothing left inside
Together we cry!
What about the junk head
Could have gone the whole way
Lighting up the stage trying to get a deal
Now he’s lighting up the wrong way
“Something for the pain!”
Man you wanna see this kid he was so f@#kin’ unreal
When he gets that call
He’s too far gone
To get it together to sing one song
They won’t hear tonight
The words of a lullaby
Together we cry…
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Together we cry…
Whoah oh whoah oh whoah
Together we cry…
Oh we cry we cry we cry
Together we cry…
Oh we cry we cry
Whoah oh whoah oh whoah
Oh…Mary’s ambitious
She wanna to be a politician
She been dreaming about it since she was a girl
She thought that she’d be the one to change the world
Always trying to pave the way for women in a…man’s world
But life happened, house, kids, 2 cars, husband hits the jar, cheques that don’t go very far now
Now she in it can’t change it, she keeps her mind on her wages
The only rattling cages!
Together we cry
Together we cry
There comes a time when every bird has to fly
At some point every rose has to die
It’s hard to let your children go
Leave home
Where they go?
Who knows!
Getting drunk
Getting stoned
All alone
Teach a man to fish
You’ll feed him never lie
You show your kids the truth
Hope they never lie
Instead of reading in a letter that they’ve gone to something better
“Bet your sorry now! I won’t be coming home tonight”
I’m sick of looking for those heroes in the sky
To teach us how to fly
Together we cry!
Together we cry
Together we cry
Quote:
Do you know where your heart is
Do you think you can find it
Did you trade it for something, somewhere
Better just to have it
Do you know where your love is
Do you think that you lost it
You felt it so strong but nothings
Turned out how you want it
Well bless my soul
You`re a lonely soul
Cause you wont let go
Of anything you hold
Well all I need is the air I breathe
And a place to rest my head
Do you know what your fate is
And are you trying to shake it
You`re doing your best and
You`re best look
You`re praying that you`ll make it
Well bless my soul
You`re a lonely soul
Cause you wont let go
Of anything you hold
Well all I need is the air I breathe
And a place to rest my head
Said all I need is the air I breathe
And a place to rest my head
Do you think you can find it
Do you think you can find it
Do you think you can find it
Better than you have it
Do you think you can find it
Do you think you can find it
Do you think you can find it
Better than you have it
Better than you have it
Said all I need is the air I breathe
And a place to rest my head
Said all I need is the air I breathe
And a place to rest my head
Do you know where the end is
Do you think you can see it
Until you get there
Go on
Go ahead and scream it
Just say...
Bump!
I don't mean to bump an old topic its just I was reminded of a beautiful song and its lyrics while reading a topic in the serious forum.
Tragically Hip- Emperor Penguin
i like the tone of your trumpet
come let's spill some paint
let's raise a glass of milk to the end of another day
and to the kiss that's still intangible
the kids are alright just unmanageable
they won't do a damn thing that you say
your voice is all detached on a radio-wave
breeze we have another caller with a bachelor degree
talkin' alien invasion as the only chance for unity
well sorry to interrupt you caller but that's a physical impossibility
you'd be tossed up or wash up the narrator relates
in a spartan antarctican walk for many days
meet with emperor penguin devotion to the egg
and their women are swimming from half an ocean away
don't sound so detached this is you and me
just give me your opinion before you turn to leave
but your crust is just incredible
the radio was edible
when you said don't wipe your asses with your sleeves
your're a physical impossibility
hi
i would agree, for me it's the meaning in the words as much as anything.
is poetry meant to touch you? yes it does for some. does painting touch some? i think so. does musick touch tohers? it does me. ever heard a musician or singer called an artist? i have... it's what it is, art in one of its many forms... for me
again i wake up to memories of you
on my own and feeling confused
becoz you took times of luv that surpassed all words
and swapped them all for lies and hurt
so i had to leave to go my own way
but i will remember you untill my dying day
because i still have feeling apart from regret
and memories of times i will never forget
i remember your smile the walks we would take
the touch of your hand and the love that we made
so these are the things i am taking with me
forever commited to memory
One of my favorite musicians, Elliott smith, also wrote great lyrics.
High on amphetamines
The moon is a lightbulb breaking
It'll go around with anyone
But it won't come down for anyone
And I won't come down for anyone
and
Now I'm a policeman directing traffic
Keeping everything moving, everything static
I'm the hitchhiker you'll recognize passing
On your way to some everlasting
As poor as a lot of song lyrics will read to someone who doesn't know the melody, quite a few very good poems would not necessarily make good songs either.
I like songwriters like Leonard Cohen (also a poet) and I've been particularly interested in harpist/songwriter Joanna Newsom. I'm not sure her lyrics would make particularly good poetry but they're very beautiful sung throughout her thirteen or so minute songs and make a lot of references to fables and folk tales.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UUe3Q54qFg
And some lyrics from her song Sawdust and Diamonds.
Quote:
From the top of the flight
Of the wide, white stairs
Through the rest of my life
Do you wait for me there?
There's a bell in my ears
There's a wide white roar
Drop a bell down the stairs
Hear it fall forevermore
Drop a bell off of the dock
Blot it out in the sea
Drowning mute as a rock;
Sounding mutiny
There's a light in the wings
Hits this system of strings
From the side while they swing;
See the wires, the wires, the wires
And the articulation
In our elbows and knees
Makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase
As the audience admires
And the little white dove
Made with love, made with love:
Made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers
Swings a low sickle arc
From its perch in the dark
Settle down
Settle down my desire
And the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
Though no longer bereft, how I shook and I couldn't remember
Then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in
And cleft me right down through my center
And I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never
Push me back into a tree
Bind my buttons with salt
Fill my long ears with bees
Praying: please, please, please,
Love, you ought not!
No you ought not!
Then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
Makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
And in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
A cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow
It is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
Streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed;
As I crash through the rafters
And the ropes and pulleys trail after
And the holiest belfry burns sky-high
Then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
While, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
And in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
Doubled over with the hunger of lions
'Hold me close', cooed the dove
Who was stuffed, now, with sawdust and diamonds
I wanted to say: why the long face?
Sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
Burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
Sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
Just to lift your long face
And though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
Your precious longface
And though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
And though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
In the trough of the waves
Which are pawing like dogs
Pitch we, pale-faced and grave,
As I write in my log
Then I hear a noise from the hull
Seven days out to sea
And it is the damnable bell!
And it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
It tolls for me!
Though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
Still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water
And they will recognise all the lines of your face
In the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter
Darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
Appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
But if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
Say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?
I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
No, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright
So: enough of this terror
We deserve to know light
And grow evermore lighter and lighter
You would have seen me through
But I could not undo that desire
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh desire
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh desire
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh desire
From the top of the flight
Of the wide, white stairs
Through the rest of my life
Do you wait for me there
This is also a very nice song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOxAneYR4bw
Quote:
Lyrics to Monkey And Bear :
Down in the green hay
Where monkey and bear usually lay
They woke from a stable-boy's cry
He said; someone come quick!
The horses got loose, got grass-sick!
They'll founder! Fain, they'll die
What is now known by the sorrel and the roan?
By the chestnut, and the bay, and the gelding grey?
It is: stay by the gate you are given
And remain in your place, for your season
And had the overfed dead but listened
To that high-fence, horse-sense, wisdom...
Did you hear that, Bear? Said monkey
We'll get out of here, fair and square
They've left the gate open wide!
So
My bride
Here is my hand, where is your paw?
Try and understand my plan, Ursala
My heart is a furnace
Full of love that's just, and earnest
Now; you know that we must unlearn this
Allegiance to a life of service
And no longer answer to that heartless
Hay-monger, nor be his accomplice
(that charlatan, with artless hustling!)
But; Ursala, we've got to eat something
And earn our keep, while still within
The borders of the land that man has girded
(all double-bolted and tight-fisted!)
Until we reach the open country
A-steeped in milk and honey
Will you keep your fancy clothes on, for me?
Can you bear a little longer to wear that leash?
My love, I swear by the air I breathe:
Sooner or later, you'll bare your teeth
But for now, just dance, darling
C'mon, will you dance, my darling?
Darling, there's a place for us
Can we go, before I turn to dust?
Oh my darling, there's a place for us
Oh darling
C'mon will you dance, my darling?
Oh, the hills are groaning with excess
Like a table ceaselessly being set
Oh my darling, we will get there yet
They trooped past the guards,
Past the coops, and the fields, and the farmyards
All night, till finally:
The space they gained grew
Much farther than the stone that bear threw
To mark where they'd stop for tea
But walk a little faster
And don't look backwards
Your feast is to the East, which lies a little past the pasture
When the blackbirds hear tea whistling, they rise and clap
And their applause caws the kettle black
And we can't have none of that!
Move along, Bear; there, there; that's that
Though cast in plaster
Our Ursala's heart beat faster
Than monkey's ever will
But still;
They have got to pay the bills
Hadn't they?
That is what the monkey'd say
So, with the courage of a clown, or a cur
Or a kite, jerking tight at its tether
In her dun-brown gown of fur
And her jerkin' of swansdown and leather
Bear would sway on her hind legs;
The organ would grind dregs of song, for the pleasure
Of the children, who'd shriek
Throwing coins at her feet
Then recoiling in terror
Sing, dance, darling
C'mon, will you dance, my darling?
Oh darling, there's a place for us
Can we go, before I turn to dust?
Oh my darling, there's a place for us
Oh darling
C'mon, will you dance, my darling?
You keep your eyes fixed on the highest hill
Where you'll ever-after eat your fill
Oh my darling, dear, mine
If you dance
Dance, darling, and I love you still
Deep in the night
Shone a weak and miserly light
Where the monkey shouldered his lamp
Someone had told him
The bear had been wandering
A fair piece away from where they were camped
Someone had told him
The bear'd been sneaking away
To the seaside caverns, to bathe
And the thought troubled the monkey
For he was afraid of spelunking down in those caves
Also afraid what the village people would say
If they saw the bear in that state;
Lolling and splashing obscenely
Well, it seemed irrational, really; washing that face
Washing that matted and flea-bit pelt
In some sea-spit-shine, old kelp dripping with brine
But monkey just laughed, and he muttered;
When she comes back, Ursala will be bursting with pride
Till I jump up!
Saying: you've been rolling in muck!
Saying: you smell of garbage and grime!
But far out
Far out
By now
By now
Far out, by now, Bear ploughed
'Cause she would not drown:
First the outside-legs of the bear
Up and fell down, in the water, like knobby garters
Then the outside-arms of the bear
Fell off, as easy as if sloughed from boiled tomatoes
Low'red in a genteel curtsy
Bear shed the mantle of her diluvian shoulders;
And, with a sigh,
She allowed the burden of belly to drop like an apron full of boulders
If you could hold up her threadbare
Coat to the light where it's worn translucent in places
You'd see spots where
Almost every night of the year Bear had been mending suspending that baseness
Now her coat drags through the water
Bagging, with a life's-worth of hunger, limitless minnows;
In the magnetic embrace
Balletic and glacial of Bear's insatiable shadow;
Left there!
Left there!
When Bear left Bear
Left there!
Left there!
When Bear stepped clear of Bear
Sooner or later you'll bury your teeth
Bump :3
How about lyrics to a parody of Dylan's works, e.g.,Quote:
Originally Posted by ballb
"Pretend you're a sweet Christian
Pretend you're a hurt Jew
Pretend you're a Buddhist or Satanist, too,
at end you ain't nothin' but DNA goo
Pre-order get Zeromas savings
The more you sell the more you get
it's jungle or zoo
for the times they aint' a changing"
?
I'd say a lot of music/lyrics is very poetical (except for pop...). Tom Waits' music is very lyrics-based and is definitely very poetical. So is a lot of folk like Johnny Flynn's.
'Your sentences rose high at night
And circled round my head
The circle's since been broken
Like the priest before me is breaking bread
I'm being asked to drink the blood of Christ
And soon I'll eat his flesh
I'm alone again before the altar
Shedding all my old regrets'
Y'know I'm surprised and a bit disappointed that nobody's mentioned rap and hip-hop music, because unlike many other forms of music hip-hop is almost purely poetry. You can argue about quality, sure, but lots of hip-hop is absolutely rife with literary technique, such that I'd require it poetic, even if the subject matter isn't necessarily.
As an example, let's examine Inspectah Deck's the Wu-Tang Clan's Triumph. (Exactly the sort of thing you'd expect from a literary forum...)
Here Inspectah Deck is metaphorically comparing his explosive skills to an atomic bomb.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Deck alludes to the historical figure of Socrates, a man well-known for being highly philosophical and intelligent. He's saying that his lyricism is so good that even Socrates can't begin to comprehend how it exists.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
An example of both extended metaphor and homeric simile. He starts off by comparing his lyrics to engaging in armed robbery, he's basically saying he's a really tough fellow. He then continues with the metaphorical armed robbery, claiming that this quality of his makes him lots of money, or that he "flees with the lottery". The line "possibly they spotted me," is where the Homeric Simile kicks in, as he rounds off the rhyme and the metaphor.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
He compares the event of his writing lyrics with an explosion, that is to say that when he writes ideas explode onto the paper. He then continues with the explosion metaphor by claiming that the explosion caused by his lyricism is so powerful that a forensic team sent in to investigate the explosion would be blinded by the light left over.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Characterization. The Wu-Tang Clan is full of different characters, and Inspectah Deck's is that of a seer or a mind-reader.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Deck metaphorically shackles the general populace with his incredible rapping.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
His graphic displays or descriptions of life in the slums are so hot that they melt steel like a blacksmith does. (Simile)Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
The Wu-Tang's clothing is so well-recognized and well-respected that people won't even search their jackets, thus they can hypothetically be used to smuggle in weaponry. He's not afraid to struggle with the law, though, even if this struggle is met with tear gas.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Wu-Tang was heavily influenced by hong-kong action movies. Here Deck compares his crew to a group of assassins who will lyrically incite chaos in a town or village by taking scores of heads.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Pretty straightforward here.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
He compares his lyrical skill to a Samurai, or a bold soldier. He's willing to cut to the heart of the matter when other people are afraid to, and thus he holds the world in sway.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Wu-Tang has so many enthusiastic fans that when they pound along to the beat, it literally pounds footprints into the pavement.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
Again, pretty straightforward.Quote:
Originally Posted by Inspectah Deck
What I'm saying is, while it can be argued that the subject matter in a lot of hip-hop is lowest-common-denominator the poetic technique is there, and thus there's nothing preventing hip-hop from being good poetry. Good examples include Emcee Lynx, Illogic, Lupe Fiasco, Mos Def, Nas (Sometimes), Saul Williams, Shing02... All very intelligent and poetic.
Other lyrics I like, not of the hip-hop kind are songs written by Chris Mosdell and Tim Jensen. Particularly Gravity and The Garden Of Everything are very nice.
I completely agree. Hip-hop (or at least what i regard to be hip-hop) is the closest thing there is to poetry in music. There are some whose lyrical complexity and rhythm structure is very impressive.
This is a good example (especially in regard to the content):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45X0N8HbFOU
Ah yes, Cise Starr is quite talented as well. I might even say Substantial as well, on the topic of Nujabes collaborators, but I dunno...Quote:
Originally Posted by Phocion
...Quote:
Originally Posted by Tor-Hershman
Seriously!?
Some song lyrics can work OK without music, although most of the time they would be better with it. They are designed to be accompanied with music, or sung, after all:
Here's some Robbie Burns stuff:
http://andymstewart.com/burns.htm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUs-5dHFksw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOsks...eature=related
I found this cool video about the poetry of hip-hop and how it's analogous to Shakespeare in the modern day.
what is a song , but a poem with a melody
Songs and poetry were originally one. Macdiarmid once said that the most profound line in Scottish poetry was "Thou art naw Mary Morison". Coming from a man whose best poetry was when it was most lyrical but who descended into producing tomes full of modernist mumbo-jumbo that is a noteworthy comment. Not something the likes of I C Smith would get at all. Once when asked if the village bards wrote good poetry he answered in that sneery voice of his no but that perhaps Murdo Macfarlane had some good bits. Frankly it is the other way round. There is nothing memorable or uplifting about most modern verse pumped out by dull and boring academics.