Warren Zevon
Hi - are you me? I came in here to post exactly this.
Paul Simon, Fagen/Becker and Lennon/Mcartney are the trifecta of songwriting perfection…
Came in to post Shane MacGowan of The Pogues, but was beaten to it. So I’ll put in a nod for Elvis Costello, who was only mentioned tangentially. My Aim Is True through Trust is Beatles-level consistency. Could’ve gone through Imperial Bedroom if he hadn’t screwed it up by releasing Almost Blue in there.
Also, since Paul Simon was mentioned, I’d add that I think “Boy in the Bubble” is about as good as lyric-writing gets.
And for songwriting pairs, nobody’s going to top Lennon/McCartney, obviously, but a few latter-day, punkier carriers of the flame: Strummer/Jones of The Clash and Mould/Hart of Husker Du.
Others up there for me: Ray Davies, Paul Westerberg (Replacements albums through Pleased To Meet Me, at least), and Brian Wilson.
If I may throw a few more into the ring:
Difford/Tillbrook
Van Morrison
Jackson Browne
Bruce Cockburn
John Prine
Townes Van Zandt
Paul Simon and Warren Zevon already mentioned.
I’ll throw Don McClean into the mix.
Can I vote for a songwriting team? If so, then I’d like to offer Howard Ashman and Alan Menken.
John Hiatt is on my list.
Paul Kelly. Australian gent.
From “Don’t stand so close to the window”:
I second Pete Townshend and Natalie Merchant.
I also like Rivers Cuomo of the more recent guys.
I came here to say **Jeff Tweedy **but see that I was beaten to the punch by Pepperlandgirl. She posted some great examples of his work.
I agree that MacGowan’s brilliant, but that song wasn’t written by MacGowan. It’s by Philip Chevron.
And since MacGowan’s already been mentioned, I’ll go with Conor Oberst.
From Something Vague:
Now and again it seems worse than it is,
but mostly the view is accurate.
You see your breath in the air as you’ll climb up the stairs
to that coffin you call your apartment.
And you sink in your chair, brush the snow from your hair
and drink the cold away.
And you’re not really sure what you’re doing this for
but you need something to fill up the days.
A few more hours.
From Waste of Paint:
So I have been hanging out down by the train’s depot. No, I don’t ride.
I just sit and watch the people there. And they remind me of wind up cars in motion.
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense.
All your lives one track, can’t you see it’s pointless?
But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak and
suddenly it is clear to see that it is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve.
And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me.
From Lua:
And I’m not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did
It’s not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is
What’s so simple in the moonlight, now is so complicated
What’s so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight.
From Hot Knives:
She went to see a Mystic who made medicine from rain
And gave up her existence to feel everything, dream others’ dreams
Bid farewell to her family with one ecstatic wave (Please take care I love you all)
Out the window as the car rolled away
She just vanished into a thick mist of change.
Andy Partridge
From “Rook”:
Rook, rook, read from your book
Who murders who and where is the treasure hid?
Crow, crow, spill all you know
Is that my name on the bell?
Rook, rook, gaze in the brook
If there’s a secret, can I be part of it?
Crow, crow, before I let go
Is that my name on the bell?
Soar up high, see the semaphore from the washing lines
Break the code of the whispering chimneys and traffic signs
What’s the message that’s written under the base of clouds?
Plans eternal, I know you know, so don’t blurt out loud
(All set to some of the most chilling, sepulchral music ever)
Leonard Cohen. For the simple sweet twist of phrase.
Robyn Hitchcock. For the weird simple sweet twist of phrase. (If you’re Googling, also check out The Soft Boys, his previous band.)
Yes, most definitely Leonard Cohen.
Three examples pretty much at random:
A depressing one, just to maintain the stereotype -
Last Year’s Man
The rain falls down on last year’s man,
an hour has gone by
and he has not moved his hand.
But everything will happen if he only gives the word;
the lovers will rise up
and the mountains touch the ground.
But the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
and all the rain falls down amen
on the works of last year’s man.
A old political one, but strangely relevant -
Democracy
*It’s coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It’s coming from the feel
that this ain’t exactly real,
or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
It’s coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A. *
And, just for the hell of it, one about oral sex -
Light as the Breeze
She stands before you naked
you can see it, you can taste it,
and she comes to you light as the breeze.
Now you can drink it or you can nurse it,
it don’t matter how you worship
as long as you’re
down on your knees.
So I knelt there at the delta,
at the alpha and the omega,
at the cradle of the river and the seas.
And like a blessing come from heaven
for something like a second
I was healed and my heart
was at ease.
Note for Mods: None of these are complete lyrics ( the man can write long songs.
Tori Amos:
Written about her father and makes me cry thinking of my own. Easily one of the most beautiful songs I’ve heard. Here on YouTube.
Winter
*I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter
I put my hand in my fathers glove
I run off where the drifts get deeper
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
I hear a voice “You must learn to stand up for yourself
Cause I cant always be around.”
He says “When you gonna make up your mind?
When you gonna love you as much as I do?
When you gonna make up your mind,
Cause things are gonna change so fast
All the white horses are still in bed.”
I tell you that Ill always want you near
You say that things change my dear
*
A lot of really good choices here. I would add Michelle Shocked, another singer-songwriter from Texas. I was going to say her, and Costello. Richard Thompson, John Hiatt, Paul Westerberg would also be on my short list.
In the last few days, I discovered Pandora - the first two names I typed in were Shocked and Costello. I might add a few from this page tomorrow.
No love for Paddy McAloon of Prefab Sprout?
“Cruel is the gospel that sets us all free,
then takes you away from me.
There is no Chicago urban blues
more heartfelt than my lament for you.
I’m a liberal guy, too cool for the macho ache
with a secret tooth
for the cherry on the cake.”
“Stella Mater, light is failing,
making such a fool of thee,
when you’d love to be someone…
This is the time, I’ve set aside.
From selling old rope,
and telling bad jokes, and cul de sac pride.
I’ve learnt today, while falling apart,
the most eloquent way,
to speak or to pray, is straight from the heart.
Oh, but to shine like Joan Of Arc
you must be prepared to burn.”
I’ll back up Chuck up there with Loudoun Wainright III. He can write good, solid songs about, literally, anything and he’s steeped in the American folk tradition.
For me, though, the best singer-songwriter currently active is Jill Sobule. She’s an amazing talent and able to write songs that will leave you confused about your place in the world. She once wrote one about Mary Kay LeTourneau that made her a sympathetic character.
However, the greatest American songwriter ever, for my money, is Cole Porter.
I’m afraid I’ve never forgiven Prefab Sprout for Cars and Girls - a misreading of Bruce Springsteen on the same level as Reagan thinking Born in the USA was a good patriotic anthem. Good band name, though.
I put a dot between the www and the d, you had a comma. I knew Dean years and years ago, he wrote the song “Don’t you ever dare do that again” about me. I was 19, having problems at home, sort of ran away and was living in a friends dump of a basement when he dropped by for a visit. I had the lyrics to Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” written on the wall (they were new at the time). And I was feeling very sorry for myself.
I want to say Jimmy Webb too. He wrote Wichita Lineman and a whole lot of other great songs.