10-4-2002

Song Lyrics

I misunderstand popular music all the time.

I first realized that I had a serious problem deciphering lyrics when I wondered why Jimi Hendrix wanted to “kiss this guy” he sings about in Purple Haze.

In “Puff, the Magic Dragon”, I wondered what the heck a giant reptile would need with “ceiling wax”. Why would you use wax on the ceiling? For that matter, why would you put flammable candle material anywhere in your room? Especially when your pet breathes fire? I suspect our friends over at OSHA would fine the bejeezus out of little Jackie Paper if they knew what he was up to.

And what’s the difference between a “magic” dragon and a regular dragon, anyway? I mean, I could see the difference between, let’s say, a magic moose and a regular moose, but aren’t all dragons kinda magical to begin with? Or is Puff somehow special in the way he displays his magic? “Hey, Jackie, watch me pull a rabbit outta my hat…nuthin’ up my sleeve. Presto!”

The next misunderstanding I’ll mention didn’t really bother me much, since their music sucked. Their only big hit was “Don’t Pull Your Love Out On Me Baby” (and I won’t even mention what a Freudian nightmare that title is…) I was curious about the group, but never bought one of their records to answer my question. Were they called “Hamilton, Joe, Frank, & Reynolds” (four guys), or were there just two normal guys and a Southerner. (Howdy, thar, Joe Frank. How’s ol’ Betty Jo Wilma doin’ with that fungus she caught when she was out to the swamp a-huntin’ possum?)

I always thought if you’re gonna play the John Boy name game, you ought to go all-out. Two first names just aren’t enough. Try this – doesn’t the name “Billy Joe Jim Ed Bob” have a nice poetic ring to it? I’d bet you money that’s the actual name of the kid from Deliverance.

(OK, so why is the Deliverance theme song called “Dueling Banjos”, when one of the participants in this “duel” is clearly a guitar? And seriously, wouldn’t it be a better duel if they used their instruments to beat each other over the head rather than just firing twangin’ riffs at each other. The “musical instrument blow to the head” strategy worked for El Kabong, after all – you never saw any hillbillies tell him he had a purty mouth.)

But I was speaking of names; so here’s another name problem; what’s up with Major Tom? Is his first name Tom and they ignore his last name to protect his family from the shame caused by his astrogational ineptitude? Or was his name something like Cornelius Aloysius Tom? (In which case I could see why he’d want to be referred to by his rank.) Of course, considering the fact that songwriter David Bowie is of the British persuasion, it’s probably spelled “Majour Thom”, anyway, so heck with it.

We can’t overlook the possibility that the song about Major Tom is one of those symbolism-laden epics, where the phrases “far above the world” and “sitting in my tin can” actually mean that God is upset about the plight of dolphins captured by tuna fisherman. (C’mon, work with me here. After all, you bought that whole load of bull about “American Pie” being about the Big Bopper and Julio Iglesias, or whatever. Personally, I thought it was about, well, pie. Mmmm, pie.)

Long before David Bowie put on his first tutu, my friends and I always watched a kid’s show that featured a cartoon-watching space pilot named “Major Astro”. He pre-dated the Jetsons dog, so the show’s writers can’t be blamed for that unfortunate association, but it was pretty common for kids at school to make fun of the name nonetheless. “Dude, check out this space bozo – he’s a major Astro, if you know what I mean.”

While you’d think that being called a major Astro would limit an actor’s career, but perish the thought. Only a few years later, this same performer appeared in the all-time classic film “King Kung Fu”, which was about an escaped gorilla who kidnapped a waitress from Pizza Hut and then proceeded to climb the Wichita Downtown Holiday Inn, and use his martial arts prowess to defeat the entire Sedgwick County Sheriff’s Department. (Oh, wait, come to think of it, that was even more lame than a guy in a tinfoil spacesuit showing Clutch Cargo reruns while pretending to orbit Jupiter, wasn’t it? Sigh.)

(Side question: other than billions of dollars worth of movie and merchandising tie-ins, what’s the difference between the Jetson’s dog and Scooby-Doo, anyway? They look alike, they walk alike, and at times they even mumble incoherently alike.)

(OK, and when George Jetson falls off the treadmill in his show’s opening sequence, what principles of physics are at work that allow him to continue to revolve around the darn thing? I am deeply disturbed by questions like these.)

But I was talking about incomprehensible lyrics, wasn’t I? OK, so what about “Louie Louie”? I won’t even go into what the heck he says in the middle of the song, but the title is written down plainly as “Louie Louie”. So why does the guy sing it as Louie Loo-eye? Answer me that, Riddler?

And don’t get me started on “La Bamba”. I didn’t understand a single word of that lyrical nightmare. (I could dance to it, though.)

Despite my struggles at understanding the depths of pop music, whenever I want to impress people with my sensitive side, I do love to whip out some classic song lyrics. No Shakespeare or Edna St. Vincent Price for this kid – I go straight for the pop hits of the 60s. “Uh, Weem away, uh, weem away. The lion sleeps tonight.” Now that’s some evocative imagery, ain’t it?

What exactly is a “mighty” jungle, anyway? I’ve always thought of jungles as rather sedate. Sure, they’re inhabited by some mighty creatures, but seriously, isn’t the jungle itself mostly just grass and plants? And I don’t want to get too picky with the weem away songwriters, but lions actually live on the savannah, not in the jungle. But I guess “the Ecuadorian Ocelot sleeps tonight” just didn’t have the right lyrical flow.

In any case, I’m not sure the songwriter has chosen the right approach for a lullaby. The line “Hush, my darling. Don’t fear, my darling” starts the thing out well. Relaxing. Calming. But then when you add the next part, you’re essentially saying that huge and hungry carnivores are lurking nearby. Oh, sure, they’re sleeping now, but who knows when they’re going to wake up and drop by for a snack? Just lie down and happily snooze away, OK?

Perhaps during your sleep you won’t dream about lions at all. You might dream about banjo-playing hillbillies, fire-breathing monsters, or Jimi Hendrix walking up to you with a twinkle in his eye and saying “’Scuse me…”

Sleep well!