I get quite curious sometimes. Okay, most of the time. When listening to Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Strump singing, “So wear me like a locket around your throat / I’ll weigh you down / I’ll watch you choke / You look so good in blue,” I cannot help but wonder who that girl was and what exactly she did to him. Although I hate to be overly literal, does she actually look good in blue?
Hearing Tori Amos whispering, “Baker Baker / Baking a cake / Make me a day / Make me whole again / And I wonder / What’s in a day / What’s in your cake this time,” leaves me contemplating how one creates such a metaphor as the completeness of the soul and the ingredients of a sweet.
Solely listening to the music or only taking lyrics for face value leaves out a huge element of the artist’s intentions. He often strives to transport the listener to another space and time, when the melody first played in his mind or the lyrics initially formulated on the paper. As much as the tune itself is the point of focus — its composition criticized or its commentary praised — how is there not more interest in the story behind the song?
Where do musicians find their inspiration? Happenstance or a muse? An evening with chemicals or a night in front of the television? While they sing about sex and love, drugs and sobriety, reality and obscurity, we in the public infrequently learn what generated the lyrics we enthusiastically sing along with.
Indeed, precipitating events are fairly salient in some tunes (see Kanye West’s “Through the Wire”). On the other hand, while Beyoncé may be on his arm now, Jay-Z penned “99 Problems” prior to the beginning of their relationship. What bitch was not his problem then? Why is it not more common for musicians to add explanatory messages to the linear notes of their albums? They take the time to discuss frivolities during interviews with magazine reporters and late-night talk-show hosts, but less often seize the opportunity to express what fueled that art. There is an overemphasis on the product and a dismissal of the process.
During last month’s Grammys, I appreciated West when he gave thanks to his accident. Rarely is circumstance publicly given its due recognition. The current political climate or the devastating breakup is taken for granted in the face of artistic success. If I broke some guy’s heart and he went on to write a tune from the resulting emotional turmoil, I think I would want to know. Similarly, like it or not, the reality is members of Green Day find themselves in good company in needing to thank the incompetence of our dear president for their musical motivation. But who knows — they might have found equal popularity from songs celebrating a peaceful society.
Ben Jaeger of Madison’s Sunspot acknowledges the role of reality, saying, “Our second album, Loser of the Year, contains some songs about how we were not popular in high school, songs about partying and touring.” Without a little prying on my part, I would not have known how powerful the role of other bands is in inspiring the sounds of Sunspot. “Wendy is a big Buster Poindexter fan, and Mike is just about the biggest Iron Maiden fan in the whole world.”
Upon an inquisition, local band Arena Venus’ Courtney Collins revealed some sources for her power-pop anthems. “I’d say that bits and pieces of events that are going on in the lives of people around me were probably the biggest source of inspiration for the lyrics I wrote on our first EP. I find it easier to write about other peoples’ lives and relationships than my own.” Who would have known Collins was not singing about her own disposition? She further explained, “Even if I put a song in first person, it’s usually from the viewpoint of someone else.”
Understandably, the subject matter may not be of essence to the general public. Collins’ friends may have told her stories in confidence and she could not suppress the creative energy resulting. However, why are artists such as Strump so willing to share the very private emotions but never consider footnoting the very personal events?
Knowing Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” was written following the death of his son adds a completely new dimension to the depth of the song’s meaning. It possibly would not have elicited such affective reactions — or been covered for tsunami-victim relief today — if this inspiration had remained unidentified.
On the other hand, the specifics may not be of any particular interest to fans. Perhaps nothing more than an afternoon walk left the musician with the lyrics in his head. Yet something happened along those steps inspiring him to see in a certain light. Is it too much to ask that they offer us less enlightened ones a little insight now and then?
As appreciative as I am that musicians are willing to make themselves vulnerable through their sounds, they only leave me to speculate — which is never really a good thing. As Aaron Shekey of Apparently Nothing sings, “Boring nights with greasy food / I’m 25, I should be getting better / Taxicabs with free brochures / and a light outside that stays on all night,” I am left wondering what streets he walked leading to such monotony.
The possibility of inspiration comes to musical minds in so many forms — the curve of a face, the pattern of cracks in the sidewalk, the celebration of a birth. As I listen to any variety of tunes, my unfamiliarity with the history of the sounds becomes an undertone, creating questions as prevalent as the clashing drums or the steady bass.
Christine Holm is a junior majoring in English literature and psychology. She finds inspiration through question and inquisition. If you have some inspiration for her, she can be contacted at [email protected].
