sounds, part II
Kurt Vonnegut (or, more specifically, Kilgore Trout) once wrote about a planet where the language kept turning into "pure music":
"Words became musical notes. Sentences became melodies. They were useless as conveyors of information, because nobody knew or cared what the meanings of words were anymore. So leaders in government and commerce, in order to function, had to invent new and much uglier vocabularies and sentence structures which would resist being transmuted into music."
This all occurred, he says, because "the creatures there were so enchanted by sounds".
Words and sentences themselves can indeed provide auditory - not just semantic - pleasures (seriously...can anyone really say the word "kumquat" with a straight face?). When I write or listen to music, the sound always takes precedence over the meaning. A good song simply sounds good; it need not say anything substantial.
Which leads me to another banned song.
Link Wray's "Rumble", a raunchy, fierce guitar instrumental, was banned from the airwaves in the late 1950s. Here's the unusual part: the song was an instrumental. It had no words at all; apparently, it just sounded dirty and dangerous. Fearful that gang violence would erupt in its wake, radio stations pulled Link's signature tune from playlists in several markets.
In banning Link, millions of Americans were tacitly acknowledging that a song can be obscene/indecent without even saying a word. If ever there was a testament to the power of the music itself in rock n' roll, that indescribable feel one gets when first hearing a great song, this was it.
Rock n' roll is a big goof, a form of escapism, and deconstructing it like a novel isn't always appropriate. Most importantly, rock n' roll appeals to the gut before the brain; "Louie Louie" and "Rumble" are proof positive of that.
I guess maybe I'm just more "enchanted by sounds" than the rest of you. Where is the rest of my planet? Where are my people?
In the words of the the great Mr. Vonnegut...
Listen.
"Words became musical notes. Sentences became melodies. They were useless as conveyors of information, because nobody knew or cared what the meanings of words were anymore. So leaders in government and commerce, in order to function, had to invent new and much uglier vocabularies and sentence structures which would resist being transmuted into music."
This all occurred, he says, because "the creatures there were so enchanted by sounds".
Words and sentences themselves can indeed provide auditory - not just semantic - pleasures (seriously...can anyone really say the word "kumquat" with a straight face?). When I write or listen to music, the sound always takes precedence over the meaning. A good song simply sounds good; it need not say anything substantial.
Which leads me to another banned song.
Link Wray's "Rumble", a raunchy, fierce guitar instrumental, was banned from the airwaves in the late 1950s. Here's the unusual part: the song was an instrumental. It had no words at all; apparently, it just sounded dirty and dangerous. Fearful that gang violence would erupt in its wake, radio stations pulled Link's signature tune from playlists in several markets.
In banning Link, millions of Americans were tacitly acknowledging that a song can be obscene/indecent without even saying a word. If ever there was a testament to the power of the music itself in rock n' roll, that indescribable feel one gets when first hearing a great song, this was it.
Rock n' roll is a big goof, a form of escapism, and deconstructing it like a novel isn't always appropriate. Most importantly, rock n' roll appeals to the gut before the brain; "Louie Louie" and "Rumble" are proof positive of that.
I guess maybe I'm just more "enchanted by sounds" than the rest of you. Where is the rest of my planet? Where are my people?
In the words of the the great Mr. Vonnegut...
Listen.
posted by Pj at 12:12 AM
2 Comments:
One Word For You: Manitoba.
i didn't know rumble was banned... that's so badass it blows my mind.
and i agree that songs can sound good both in words and music without knowing WHAT they're saying: eep opp ork ah-ah. ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong. the fa la las in madrigals. bad lyrics can ruin a song (see "shaking like a dog shitting razorblades," which makes me cringe just thinking about it) and good lyrics can save a just-okay song, but it'll always come down to how they sound in the context of the music.
Post a Comment
<< Home