Let me preface this question by clarifying two things: 1) the lyrics in a song lie in parallel to any painting ever made in that, although the painter has created something visually that the viewer’s mind can unequivocally identify with, or use as a reference point to something else, you will not always understand what the real message of the piece is; and 2) I’m not questioning the validity of lyrics in general—I’m questioning whether lyrics matter in determining how a person or group of people like a song or certain music. (Because, honestly, I’d be the last person advocating that instrumental or orchestral music be brought back to mainstream popularity.)
The former point is an important one to be conscious of because whether a painting consists of images that are undeniable or a song contains words that have a definitive and technical meaning there’s no way to be absolutely sure that the artist in either case means what he/she has painted/sung. Take Edvard Munch’s The Scream, for example. Most everyone believes that this painting puts into visual form the existential dread that many people feel while living in this world. Actually, the painting was the result of the Krakatoa volcano eruptions causing the skies to turn red and Munch seeing blood-red skies while walking with a friend. The musical equivalent of this would probably be Bruce Springsteen’s “Born In The U.S.A.” When it was released, most Americans believed it to be an uber-patriotic anthem when really it was about a Vietnam vet lamenting on how things have changed in America. Or is it? It’s pretty easy to believe that a song is patriotic when the line “Born in the U.S.A.” is shouted roughly 100 times. Additionally, Springsteen could just be saying that the song is really about a Vietnam vet but in reality he just wanted to write a half-assed song that would garner him some national popularity. (The one thing an artist will never openly admit to is that they’ve created something strictly for attention or, more specifically, money.) What’s the point? We can never know for sure what the point of a specific piece of art is. Regarding the latter point, do lyrics affect certain people (or vice versa) only in the name of looking/sounding cool?
I think the best example of whether lyrics hold significant weight is Bob Dylan. Almost everyone will espouse praise to Bob Dylan’s catalog in a heartbeat; some will even quote his lyrics and use them as a basis to explain his, Dylan’s, own dominance over everyone else before and after him. I consider myself a Bob Dylan fan—specifically the music he created between 1965 and 1968—and yet I have no definitive idea what most of his songs are about. Yet, if “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues” is playing I can recite almost word for word the entire song. Does it matter that I don’t know what it’s about or that I can’t remember most of the lyrics if the song isn’t playing? Does this mean that I’d like the song even if the lyrics were different? Or, if the song was sung by someone else?
If someone likes a particular musician or band specifically because of their lyrical writing style then why aren’t cover bands more popular? But then we get into the whole discussion of “But Singer A sings like he/she really means it and Singer B is just trying to cash in on already produced material.” To be sure, there are some artists who simply cannot cover other artist’s work; or, if they did it would kitschy at best—for instance, Tori Amos doing a cover of “One” by Metallica or The Killers doing a cover of “I’ll Come Running” by Brian Eno, etc.
I think the best way to assimilate the importance of lyrics in a rock or folk song with the idea that some people simply view certain lyrics as being cool and, by extension, they themselves will be cool is rap and hip-hop music. Both categories of music are specifically lyric-intensive and lyrically driven. The difference, of course, is the man with the microphone. In Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs Chuck Klosterman posed the theory that most kids liked Eminem because when he sang his lyrics they were phonetically precise no matter how quickly they were vocalized. Of course, Eminem’s success may also be attributed to his being a white man and who is a protege of Dr. Dre. In any case, one could spend weeks, months, or years trying to prove or disprove this theory but the fact remains that a lot of people find Eminem’s lyrics engaging, powerful, ruthless, controversial, or whatever; but is it because of the lyrics or, are the lyrics powerful because of the man saying them? If there’s one thing that has worked in Eminem’s favor it’s the generated image of him being a dangerous and controversial figure; a self-appointed “This Generation’s Elvis Presley.” When I was in fifth grade Guns ‘N Roses released Appetite For Destruction and, like everyone else, I thought “Welcome To The Jungle” rocked. I had no concrete idea what it meant but I knew three things: 1) everyone else liked it, 2) the video was on MTV all the time (kids today will never have the faintest idea how cool MTV used to be), and, most importantly 3) my liking that song and wanting that tape (that’s right, a cassette tape!) pissed my Mom off to no end.
And at the end of the day, isn’t that what most attracts certain music and lyrics to us individually? For all of the songs and lyrics that genuinely stimulate us or that we admire, there are numerous other songs and lyrics that we like because they’re catchy; or they recall a memory of someone; or they sound really good while you’re driving; or, especially when you’re growing up and are forming your initial musical tastes, they piss people off because you like them. But the one constant in all of this is the artist—if you like the artist or the genre, the lyrics seem to be accepted as a given. If that last sentence is true in most cases—which is more important, the artist or the lyrics? Think of your favorite song strictly in terms of the lyrics and how they effect you and ask yourself, “Would I still like this song if (insert singer or band that you absolutely loathe) sang it?”
Because, for me, I would have never given “Shelter From The Storm” a chance in hell if Bob Seger sang it instead of Bob Dylan.