Writing strong lyrics

This will be quite an intermittent series simply because it's such a tricky subject. For the purposes of this first thought about lyric writing, let's concern ourselves mainly with lyrics written to fit with melodies (in other words, the kind that share the most characteristics with poetry) more than with rap lyrics, which are less linear and more determined by rhythmical phrasing.

EARN YOUR ABSTRACT NOUNS

While acknowledging that what makes a good lyric is pretty subjective, there are some images that stick in the mind better than others, and that work for most people. Let's consider for a moment that we might become involved in a piece of art (be it a song, painting or book) because it allows us a peek into someone else's view of the world. It seems to me that this is how we rehearse our ability to empathise with other people; by learning what feelings accompany experiences we've never had, what the world looks like through someone else's eyes. Art is so important precisely because it gives us a common frame of reference for relating to other people on an intuitive or emotional level in the same way that science helps us to co-exist on a practical level.

Assuming for a minute that this isn't just pretentious guff, then what makes us get into a song or album is its mood - the way it creates a little world of its own that's strange and new but with enough commonalities that we can relate to it.

So, bearing these ideas in mind, we need to accomplish two things with lyrics. Firstly, we need to find a way of describing things that's particular to us personally. Secondly, we need to make those personal images comprehensible to everyone else.

There's a serious consequence to this conclusion. A song with lyrics about feeling low and being blue after someone's left you is shit. What do you mean you feel low? That tells me nothing about you personally. I do not want to hear another lyric about love that lasts forever as long as I live. It's bollocks. The problem with using abstract nouns like "love", "hurt" and "freedom" is that while we can all relate to it, it doesn't SHOW us anything new. It's like a TV drama where one of the characters walks up to the camera and explains the plot. We don't want that, we want to SEE the plot unfold and feel that we've worked it out ourselves. At the end of the day, art is selfish all round: the artist doesn't really mind what the audience thinks he/she is on about because the song/poem/painting makes sense to the artist. The audience doesn't give a toss how the artist feels, they're concerned with how the song makes THEM feel. So SHOW the audience what's happening, don't TELL them.

Which brings us to imagery. It sounds obvious, but it's better to describe a person who's sad (they're sitting on a bed ignoring a ringing phone) rather than say "he's sad". Of course, some perfectly good images that describe moods without any naughty abstract nouns are over-used to the point of having no impact. "Tears on my pillow" is quite a good image of heartbreak, but with luck no-one will ever use it again. Ever. Same goes for daggers in people's hearts.

Think cinematically: if a character in a film is in love, obviously the director can't walk round the camera, tell us, and then walk back. The character can't tell us because she's not supposed to know there's a camera there. So how do you show it, as the director? Look for unusual ways of indicating it.

Of course, some abstracts are a bit difficult to portray like that. Pain (psychological rather than physical) is a tricky one, for example. So run it past your senses. This sounds daft, but what does it sound like? Personify it: you walk into the room and there's pain... what's it doing? Listening to Duran Duran, probably. More seriously, try looking at it, or smelling it. That sounds stupid too, but consider this: what does pain smell like? Blood and iodine (or some other hospital smell). Blood and iodine is rather a good phrase. If you're a goth band.

The point of all this silliness is that there are any number of ways of finding either a narrative image (describing what someone's doing) or a metaphor which appeals to the senses, and either will be better than saying "I'm feeling so low, ooh ooh yeah".

This is a good way of getting ideas for lyrics from scratch, too. Start out with one abstract word, come up with some sensory metaphors and a little narrative that describes it, and then ditch the abstract word completely. The result will be quite individual, because clearly your associations with the word "nostalgia", for example, will be different from anyone else's. The idea here is not that you should never ever use an abstract noun, just that you should feel you've earned one after a verse of successful imagery.

THE SUDDENLY KINDLED LIGHT OF THE NEVER-BEFORE-SAID

That's a definition of "Beauty In Art" from godlike genius Milan Kundera, from his book of essays "The Art Of The Novel". It's an invaluable and beautiful book, more art than commentary, and if you don't own it then your bookshelf is malfunctioning. Buy it at once.

In this case, let's use this phrase to consider song titles and chorus lyrics, which should contain a central image or utterly cool phrase which sums up the mood or point of the song. An image which sticks in the mind will often be an unusual recombination of familiar words or phrases. For many songs, this means turning around a well-known axiom or saying. Sometimes that's great, sometimes it's cheesy because it's such well-trodden territory. Don't, for god's sake, get a list of sayings and just put opposites into them. You'll get "Friends in Low Places" and "Love at Second Sight". Or "Two Hearts are Better Than One". And then you'll have to kill yourself. Remember, the pun is actually the lowest form of wit. Sarcasm is very good really.

The main issue in finding your central image is the tone of the song. Is it epic and moody, light-hearted, kitchen-sink realism? The central image wants to be either concrete or cool. Faffy lists of feelings are a no-no here; that's an instantly forgettable strategy. Think instead of hip phrases (that you've made up, not extant ones or it'll sound stupid in a week) or an object suitable to the tone (e.g. epic: fireworks for love; light-hearted: French letter for lust; kitchen sink: hair dye for changing identity). And never forget that a central image which is sexy, sensual or refers to drugs can never go far wrong. Just find a "never-before-said" way of putting it that's nonetheless easy to understand.

Right, next time I'll try to think of some examples of these ideas, and possibly go into some technical stuff (synechdoche, metonymy and so on) that's much more interesting and useful than it sounds. In the meantime, try out the "show don't tell" strategy, and I hope you get some fun results.

Carl Homer