"That music has no soul." What are they talking about?

Well there’s soul music then there’s music with no soul…

Ditto the “techincally proficient but lacking real emotion” definition. I was listening to an NPR show this weekend called “From The Top” when High School kids perform classical music. This particular group went on and on about how hard a particular Beethoven piece was and how “old people” couldn’t perform it correctly. They went on to do beautiful music in an absolutely hideous style. There was no depth, no feeling, no soul. All the notes where there but they just seemed to be phoning it in.

Forgot about this earlier.

Louis Armstrong said this about jazz, not the blues.

I would define music with “soul” as the kind that provokes some involuntary visceral response in you, be it goosebumps, a lump in your throat, or the urge to dance (even if you don’t know how). It’s music performed by people who mean it with every last drop of their beings, people who seem to be exorcising some kind of demon by making powerful, elegant, tortured, beautiful statements in song.

Lack of “soul” has been described aptly above. It usually turns out to be disposable pop music, often the kind made by white folks, especially if they are trying to sound like black folks but failing miserably (as is so often the case).

Put another way, there’s music that can make you cry because it’s so awesomely beautiful, and music that can make you cry because there are compositional devices in it that are designed to provoke that response in you. The former is soul. The latter isn’t.

Let’s not forget this category:

Soul: Ray Charles
Fake wannabe soul: Michael Bolton

I meant to include this, sorry. Try to find a recording of the regrettable TV show on divas. Listen to the sorry performances by Aguillera, et al, then watch as an aging Aretha Franklin blows their asses right out of the room.

I concur with the general consensus for soul relating to emotion, but I think it’s more emotion from the musician rather than just a listener response. If someone is putting their soul into the music, you’ll probably feel it, but not everyone will. Music without soul is a song that someone with great talent just puts out there without any real feeling, producing the music by rote rather than with passion. It still may sound good to many, but it has no love from its creator.

(hijack)

Exapno, in various places, I’ve seen the question to the “If you have to ask, you’ll never know” quote listed in various places as:

“What is jazz?”
“What is the blues?” [in the context of jazz–the version I recall is a foreign reporter asking Armstrong what it means to play the blues]
“What is swing?”
“What makes New Orleans so special?”

I prefer the “blues” version, since it makes for the snappiest comeback. :slight_smile:

I’ve also seen the answer quoted as “if you have to ask, don’t mess with it!” (though when I Googled that I got someone attributing that to Lionel Hampton…and while Googling I saw the “never know” version attributed to Fats Waller and Dizzy Gillespie instead of Pops …)

It’d be interesting to know if there’s an actual primary source for it, or whether it’s one of those things that just floated through the jazz world without anyone pinning it down (like the story about Armstrong inventing scat singing.)

While on this jazz tangent I’ll veer back on topic by pointing out that the concept of playing with “soul” existed in the jazz world before the pop music genre called “soul music” came into being. I assume the usuage originally comes from gospel…

I’ve tried several times to respond to this and the Board has beaten me down every time. I gots the Preview Post/Submit Message/Database Error Blues.

Anyway, I have heard this line for years and never, never, never have I heard it applied to the blues. It doesn’t even make sense that way. Compared to jazz the blues is a narrow and defined type of music, with specific chord changes and apparatus. Jazz was always the special, personal, music going all the way back.

That said, tracing the line back would be an interesting exercise. Where is samclem when you need him?

I’ll sort of go along with the technically-proficient-but-no-emotion definition. But emotional for what?

To me, the important thing is that the musician is really involved with, committed and connected to, having fun with, and really feels the song. This is most often true with singers who are also songwriters, I feel: they know what the song means and they sing it that way. There are some exceptions, though.

When a performer is so into the song that he just lets it come out—occasionally changing a word here or there, tossing in improvised alternate melodies and blue notes, adding flourishes—then to me, it’s probably got some soul to it. When it comes out the same way every single performance (cf The Cars), then it’s pretty soulless. The performer is no longer really connected to the song.

I guess pop music is most susceptible to this because many pop artists perform stuff written by other people; many pop albums are made of filler material with a few intended “singles”; many pop artists are heavily marketed money machines intended to exploit the hell out of a demographic until that market is dead, dead, dead.

That’s how I’d define it, anyhow. :slight_smile:

Don’t leave Yngwie or Steve Vai out of that band, either.

With Hootie on vocals.

That would be the 1998 version of Divas on VH-1. Celine Dion, Gloria Estefan, Shania Twain, and Mariah Carey. Pretty good voices, all of them. Nice to look at, too. My friend was raving about what a “big” voice Celine Dion has.

And then Aretha came and blew them right off the stage. They might as well have not been in the same room.

Oh right, them. They seem somewhat interchangeable to me. What was even more impressive is when they were all singing together, and Aretha still could be heard over all of them.

No soul: Myron Floren’s accordion

No soul: Slim Whitman’s yodeling

Soul: Myron Floren and Slim Whitman simultaneously :smiley:

‘Has no soul’ = music that I don’t really prefer.

That’s all it really means.

I think it’s a quick and dirty way of saying “this music doesn’t affect me or engage me personally.” It’s a little bit different than just not liking it, but it’s close.

EGAD.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I hate this topic.

But here is my explanation:

Some people say that some musicians either have soul or they do not. Those who talk about ‘soul’ tend to like players who, to put this gently, suck.

Let me explain. Players like Jimmy Page are called ‘soulful’ players even though they suck on a technical level. Players like Steve Morse, who are exceptional technicians, are called souless because they play well.

Somehow a lot of people think that some players have more ‘feeling’ because they are sloppy players. The reasoning seems to be that they are somehow more spontanious(SP?) and therefore more innovative than exceptional players.

I have been screaming about this mis-conception for years. Jimmy Page is a horrid guitarist. He is a damned good song writer but his playing is just bad. Hell, I am a better player than Page. Steve Morse, on the other hand, is a damned good guitarist and and damned good songwriter. Yet Steve is called ‘soulless’ because he can actually play his instrument.

It seems to me to be a case of hating those who do multiple things well.

Slee

sleestak, I am also a musician—I play piano—and I stand by my definition. I do not hate people who have fantastic technical proficiency. I respect them for what they can do. However, there are still performances that I listen to where I can say, “This is technically workmanlike, but the musician doesn’t feel as if he is emotionally engaged with the song he is playing. If he doesn’t feel the music, why should I?”

It’s the same as when an actor simply “phones it in.” Why should I try getting engaged in a performance when the performer seems only interested in hitting his marks and getting off the stage?

For better or for worse, I would call this “soul” in a musical context.

You’re overgeneralizing. Some blues fans I know seem almost repulsed by anyone who has technique, as if there were some unwritten rule that real music can’t be too complicated or mistake-free, but it’s not all by any means. Some people say Page has soul, others say he sucks. There IS more to being a good player than technical ability, so it sort of sounds like you’re taking the opposite perspective of the blues fans I’m talking about.

To me, “soul” is what makes you feel the emotion driving the words and music and what convinces you the singer feels it to. It’s why a song can break your heart, make you laugh, or make you want to love again. Several years ago, there was a song called “Steel Rain” which was getting a lot of airplay on the Classic Rock radio station I listened to. I don’t remember the singer’s name, but I was amazed to learn he was only about 16 or so, because the sheer, raw pain he put in that song seemed to come from a much older man.

I’m a fan of folk music, and I much prefer recordings of live performances to studio recordings because there is something extra in those recordings. Stan Rogers’ Home In Halifax CD, finishes up with 4 songs, the first 3 of which each pack a distinct, different, emotional punch. As he starts playing “45 Years From Now”, you can hear him say quietly, “This is for my wife,” and the love in the song shows through. The next song is “The Mary Elle Carter” which is a great one for getting me on my feet and ready to take on the world. The punch the last of the three, “Barrett’s Privateers” has is less related to the words, and more to the power of 4-part male harmony, which makes me glad to be a straight female! Here’s a link to the lyrics of all three songs.

Soul is magic and power, that which can sweep you up and take you away, if only for the duration of the song. Each person may well define soul differently, and different songs by the same singer may have completely different levels of soul. I’ve been listening to a lot of Meatloaf recently. While I was thinking of “Barrett’s Privateers”, I was thinking of the contrast in the amount of masculine power and testosterone in that song and in Meatloaf’s “Masculine” which, to my ears, sounds like a teenage boy trying to act like a man. On the other hand, to me, his “Wasted Youth” is another song which brings on a take-on-the-world mentality in me, and “Rock and Roll Dreams Come True” is very much my theme song.

Soul, by the way, is also what my church’s choir director goes for. Not just getting all the notes in place, but in getting the choir to feel and project the emotion behind the notes, making the congregation feel as well as hear what we’re listening to. When we sang Handel’s Messiah recently, the goal was to make the audience feel the scorn and derision when we sang, “He Trusted in God; let Him deliver him, if He delight in Him”, or the playfulness when we sang, “Oh We Like Sheep” which leads into sudden, stark, sobriety as we realize the consequences of our actions.

Soul, like religion, transforms and transcends, adding something which I cannot define, yet which my life would be poorer without.

CJ