What is the style of singing called that does not use words such as done by Dead Can Dance? Is there more styles like this?
The style of Jazz singing where the voice is used as a musical instrument is called “scat singing.” THe style of Jazz singing that uses words, but follows closely along the melody line of an instrumental piece, is called “vocalese.”
I don’t think there is a name for non-jazz scat, which is essentially what Lisa Gerrard is doing with Dead Can Dance: she uses “words,” but they’re not real words: she makes them up.
Sorry that I’m jumping in without an answer to your question, koawala, but may I strongly recommend “()” by Sigur Ros, if you enjoy Dead Can Dance?
Fan-freaking-tastic album.
-j
The entire album is sung in made-up words.
Please don’t forget the almighty Mike Patton when speaking on the subject of what I (with affection) call “Singing in Gibberish”
Top add to smokes post , here is info on the language “hopelandic” that Sigur Ros uses.
From Sigur-ros.com
what language does jónsi sing in?
on the first three albums (von, von brigði, ágætis byrjun), jónsi sang most songs in icelandic but two of them (von and olsen olsen) were sung in ‘hopelandic’. all of the vocals ( ) are however in hopelandic. hopelandic (vonlenska in icelandic) is the ‘invented language’ in which jónsi sings before lyrics are written to the vocals. it’s of course not an actual language by definition (no vocabulary, grammar, etc.), it’s rather a form of gibberish vocals that fits to the music and acts as another instrument. jónsi likens it with what singers sometimes do when they’ve decided on the melody but haven’t written the lyrics yet. many languages were considered to be used on ( ), including english, but they decided on hopelandic. hopelandic (vonlenska) got its name from first song which jónsi sang it on, hope (von).)
Don’t forget Bobby McFerrin, either. He may be best known for “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” but he’s done other things too. I loved his take on the Pink Panther Theme, used in the Roberto Benigni movie. Tower Records couldn’t find it on any of his CDs but Circlesongs sounds like what koawala is after.
IMO, the best song to use “wordless singing” as a major element (by which I mean not used entirely, but in part of the song) is Alec Eiffel by the Pixies.
It starts as a chugging, catchy, rock song with very sharp hooks, and incredible lyrics. Then, at about 1:31 a beautiful, sighing middle/outro takes hold, consisting of great vocals by Kim Deal and Frank Black, with occaisional random consonants thrown in.
Sidebar: Sigur Ros has words. They’re just made-up words. Besides, why would you want to listen to Sigur Ros anyway?
Van Morrison does a lot of this too.
Flying
The Beatles
Magical Mystery Tour
Although from the same website, this interesting bit:
++++++++
A recent study of mine concludes that the Hopelandic language Sigur Rós uses is derived from a little known ancient language, Essil (roughly translated as “light”). Though its speakers are long dead and their country long forgotten, I have learned about its culture through its surviving art and poetry. “Njósnavélin,” a new song by Sigur Rós, uses a piece of Essilian poetry for its lyrics. Unfortunately, literal or even poetic translation fails to fully explain the concepts behind the words, so an explanation will follow the transliteration and translation. (Although Essil uses its own alphabet, there is as of now no font to type it. A catalogue of the alphabet’s characters and the culture’s artwork might be available in the future.)
Njósnavélin in Essil
(original title: “ete tas Essilev” = “Light’s traveller”)
Essil on
Essil on erifet al
Essil on
Essil on eriftel al
Essil on
(Pronunciation: ee-sile on [long “i,” as in “hi” and long “o” as in “throw”], er-o-fet all)
Literal Translation:
I travelled through light
I travelled through light; I am not afraid
(repeat)
Explanation:
In Essilian mythology, light was the source of everything. People were born of light and remained immortal as long as they upheld nature and light. The preferred communication of scholars and monks was thought and telepathy, which they understood as the pathway of light that bound the minds of all. But for the sake of posterity, they recorded their thoughts in Essil, the language named for light itself.
Their belief was that water preserved light, and from this preservation of light they came into being. This song, “ete tas Essilev,” is an account of their sort of birth… instead of reproduction and natural child-birth, the people of this culture claimed to come into existence from the water and light. The verb “essil” is a concept of both birth and thought. The speaker is talking about swimming in the water before birth, a collection of light and souls (or, arguably, a single soul shared by all). The form “E(e)ssil on” is a first person perfect form of the verb. Our understanding of the perfect form has changed over time. Instead of a single action in the past, the perfect tense here is understood to mean a continuous action… this soul was floating and travelling from the beginning of time, and is still a part of their “essil.”
The alternate line’s “erifet al” is a first person negative present of the verb “rifet,” which means not simply to fear, but to be incredibly fearful, to be terrified. Why would one consider birth fearful in the first place? Surely with such a languid tone and the lazy repetition of phrases and lines, this is not a song of fear, nor is it a song of the abscence of fear… it speaks of a peaceful ignorance. The present here, too, is not to be taken in its true form. Rather, it means the person was not afraid at birth, nor are they now. The explanation of this is the Essilian culture considered coming into existence and existence as the same thing, a continuing and never-ending process. So where does fear come in? The Essilians are doing two things: first, they are praising light, Essil, for its comfort and power, but secondly, the speaker is asserting his belief in Essil… therefore he is speaking of his trust that he will continue existence and not be revoked his life (a thought expressed in the noun/infinitive “ocente”).
Taking all this in mind, a poetic translation becomes more possible. But, for the sake of the original scheme, it is necessary that its simple repetition and ideology be preserved. Thus the poetic translation:
In this lake of souls
In this lake of souls, I lose all fear
+++++++++
It seems like it was meant to be gibberish by the band, but it just happened to line up with this ancient language. Either that or this guy made up the language and mythology and all that, I couldn’t really tell from the website.
When I saw the title to this thread, I immediately thought of the singing that Annie Lennox does on the score to Apollo 13. All of her singing is either oh-oh-oh-ooooh-ooh, or the same but with "ah"s. What is that style called? It doesn’t seem like scat, per se.
The classical term for wordless singing like this (using only a single vowel sound) is vocalise. (Not to be confused with the jazz term “vocalese,” which refers to singing lyrics to what was originally an instrumental.)
This is rather difficult for me.
I was fortunate enough to attend the first, west coast run of 2001. My usually rather decorative father managed to get all of us boys into the Golden Gate Cinema for a screening. It was festival seating and we were a bit late. All of us were forced to sit in what was nearly the front row. The curtains were so close that our nostrils were rubbed raw before show time.
Once the film (all 70 mm of it, back in 1968) began to unspool, we were every one of us amazed. The overbearing draperies withdrew and all of us occupying the theater’s pit suddenly had the best seats in the house. The Golden Gate Cinema had a true Cinerama[sup]™[/sup] screen. All of us poor schnooks in the front rows were treated to a full wrap-around-goggles sort of purview. The show was incredible, and the sound was even better. Immune from interposing conversation, the front rows experienced very little distraction.
The front-and-center part of the Cinerama[sup]™[/sup] screen was almost twenty feet before us. The soundtrack’s perfectly balanced music was performed by one of the finest philharmonic orchestras, it was also led by a conductor known around the world. Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra provided what were among the finest interpretations of classical music ever to grace reels of film.
After the sufficiently engaging primate, shuttle and lunar scenes, the journey to Jupiter became interminable for this (at the time) preadolescent. I am not sure what oratorio or chorale it is that’s used during Discovery’s voyage to Jupiter. A quick search reveals:
Discovery: Adagio,
from Gayane Ballet Suite (5:13)
Star Gate: Requiem for Soprano,
Two Mixed Choirs and Orchestra (5:58)
I believe it was the “Requiem for Soprano” that nearly drove me out of my seat at the time. Now, after decades of composing and another few performing in bands and solo, the incredible ensemble effect of those singers combined with the orchestra behind them moves me beyond words. It is an indescribable and tremulous surging of barely enharmonic voices. All of them coalescing into huge overtones shadowed and colored by enormous bell notes.
Only decades later was I able to understand or really comprehend what I had heard in that theater. It took singing in a choir and playing in several music groups to sample even a most meager taste of what was required to produce the controlled frenzy, as I heard that evening in San Francisco so long ago.
Singing without words can happen more easily than uttering any lyrics themselves. Witness Swiss yodeling or many other less distressing forms of the same melodic art. The Islamic Azaan literally shouts to be rightfully included along side more familiar Gregorian chants.
I’ll stop now.
One of my favorite uses of scat singing is George Duke vocals on “Bebop tango” on Zappa’s Roxy And Elsewhere album.
The band increasing the tempo and adding elements building around George’s vocals as Zappa brings people on stage to try and dance to it.
And that one clever ine of actual words:
This is BEEEEEEEEE-bop! Eventhoughyouthinkitdoesn’tsoundlikethat…
Fun and cool.
The first thing I thought of when I saw the thread title was the great performance of Claire Torry on Pink Floyd’s The Great Gig in the Sky. Please listen, if you haven’t already.
The best example is Ella Fitzgerald scatting over Benny Goodman’s “Air Mail Special.”
Nobody’s mentioned solfege yet, which I may not have spelled correctly but which seems to have a place in this discussion. IIRC Meredith Monk has several songs where the lyrics are things like “nuh-nuh-nuh, wah-AH-oh,” etc.
Bjork does it all the time. I find it inexplicable annoying.
Inexplicably, even.