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#81 | |
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Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Northern Europe
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Quote:
is that for better or worse? |
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#82 |
children of satan
Join Date: Feb 2007
Posts: 399
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The best rock lyricists are still those who rose to prominence in the '60s: Dylan, Cohen, Morrison and Krieger, Reed, Mitchell, Barrett and Waters, Zappa, Hendrix, Anderson, Sinfield, etc. There have been a few come along since then who are up in that category, but not many.
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#83 |
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Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: A RETIREMENT HOME
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frank zappa? okay. sure.
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#84 | |
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Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: New York, NY
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haha, no kiddin. hendrix's lyrics were better than he got credit for i think, because people always talk about his guitar playing. but alot of his songs were real poetic likes. The morning is dead And the day is, too There's nothing left here to meet me But the velvet moon All my loneliness I have felt today It's like a little more than enough To make a man throw himself away And I continue To burn the midnight lamp Alone Now the smiling portrait of you Is still hangin' on my frowning wall It really doesn't, really doesn't bother me too much at all It's just the ever falling dust That makes it so hard for me to see That forgotten earring layin' on the floor Facing coldly towards the door I continue To burn the midnight lamp Lord, alone Loneliness is such a drag So here I sit to face That same old fire place Gettin' ready for the same old explosion Goin' through my mind And soon enough time will tell, About the circus in the wishing well And someone who will buy and sell for me Someone to toll my bell But I continue To burn the midnight lamp Lord, alone Darlin' can't ya hear me callin' you? So lonely Gonna have to blow my mind Lonely
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#85 |
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Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Near Paris, France
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Zappa
Muffin man : The muffin man is seated at the table in the laboratory of the utility muffin Research kitchen... reaching for an oversized chrome spoon he gathers an Intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants and brushing his scapular aside Procceds to dump these inside of his shirt... He turns to us and speaks: Some people like cupcakes better. I for one care less for them! Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing Anointment utensil he poots forths a quarter-ounce green rosette (oh ah yuk Yuk... lets try that again...!) he poots forth a quarter-ounce green rosette Near the summit of a dense but radiant muffin of his own design. Later he says: Some people... some people like cupcakes exclusively, while myself, I say There is naught nor ought there be nothing so exalted on the face of gods grey Earth as that prince of foods... the muffin! Girl you thought he was a man But he was a muffin He hung around till you found That he didnt know nuthin Girl you thought he was a man But he only was a-puffin No cries is heard in the night As a result of him stuffin |
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#86 |
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Location: banana boat
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at your house the smell of our still living human bodies and oven gas
you pray to nothing out loud two first names and an ampersand embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel you're a beautiful and violent work with a skinny neck of a chinese bird in a fading ancient painting and if you're in heaven waiting you made it there fighting the tightest kite string in a bad storm with lightning and now these few presidents frowning in my pocket can persuade no god to let me let you talk, oh these few presidents frowning in my pocket can persuade no god to let me let you off even though i haven't seen you in years yours is a funeral i'd fly to from anywhere i thought i had a pebble in my sock i pulled it off and shook out a wasp it stumbled out lost, and without a pause i'm stung as i was, still i stomped it i thought, there is no paved street worthy of your perfect scandanavian feet my crooked chinese fingers groped the machinery of your throat and now these few presidents frowning in my pocket can persuade no god to let me let you talk, oh these few presidents drowning in my pocket can persuade no god to let me let you off even though i haven't seen you in years yours is a funeral i'd fly to from anywhere
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11:11 11-11-11 I Ascended. |
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#87 |
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Location: banana boat
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and:
Rain is millions of tiny speech bubbles unused The collected breaths of mutes And all our silent exhalations Where we should've put words Or words we had no one to tell Emptied from clouds like clearing horns spit valves Coming back to us now To remind us what we meant to say Or that we meant to say something Coming down and dying In one giant quiet On the streets and cars Huzzled like jewels in girls' hair On the fake wool collar of my bomber jacket And on my glasses and feet Cut 'em deep and weap out loud Just dust and just a hair in your mouth You drink and think you're tonguin' something to shout But it's just dust and just a hair in your mouth And now these empty breaths reflect The feedback of headlights Push leaves and coffee cups To lower altitudes and gutters Rain is confession weather And we become booths of prayer if we let us And now these empty breaths reflect The feedback of headlights Push leaves and coffee cups To lower altitudes and gutters Rain is confession weather
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#88 |
children of satan
Join Date: Feb 2007
Posts: 399
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Zappa was the best of the '60s humourists as far as lyricists go. The Absolutely Free album, in particular, has some great lyrical snapshots of postwar U.S.; 'Brown Shoes Don't Make It' and 'Status Back Baby' are especially good.
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#89 | |
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I've said "NO!" several times to myself in the course of this thread. Bright Eyes I can let pass, but Bob Dylan is just shit.
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#90 | |
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Quote:
Now that's just silly, isn't it. |
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#91 | |
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I can honestly say that I'm not joking, and that those are great lyrics. |
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#92 | ||
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By that logic: I have a rhyming dictionary, and a non-sequitur dictionary. I'm also incredibly good at stealing from better writers, and I'm incapable of singing or writing a single chord sequence that's interesting. Can I have an exasperatingly shit but well-paid career forever now please?
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#93 | |
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#94 | |
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Join Date: Mar 2006
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Quote:
what subject do you teach again? |
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#95 | |
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Have you thought of applying for a job at Vice magazine? ![]() PS. When the supergroup that is Cunt finally gets serious, I nominate you to be the Richard Melzer of the group. What's good enough for Blue Oyster Cult is good enough for us, say I.
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Snow on Easter Sunday - Jesus Christ in reverse. |
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#96 | |
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Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Brooklyn
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Quote:
i posted some of cave's lyrics. |
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#97 | |
children of satan
Join Date: Feb 2007
Posts: 399
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Actually, I think there are two or three Morrison-penned pieces that are the best, period, untopped by anyone before or since. |
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#98 | |
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Join Date: Dec 2007
Location: ιλ
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Quote:
I would assume the latter.
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We Kill Homosexuals!!! |
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#99 |
expwy. to yr skull
Join Date: Apr 2006
Location: Buffalo, NY
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I'm fond of a lot Robert Pollard's lyrics. Also, the dudes from Mclusky wrote awesome lyrics. They were genuinely funny too.
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#100 | |
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Join Date: Jun 2006
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