I am in step with original thought while everybody scratches their head trying to grasp what they’ve heard in a court of lyrics led by the prince’s views with simple sentences, misrepresented by used up words, falling short from originality without the toast of a few. With no instrument to carry the thought in a tune the over committed singer will find the toast forgettable but only if an instrument is broken then bonded again with original thoughts and not by glue. Sticky words come to us from the mind wax of a court marauder who only hears words first, seeing music as the patch to original thought not worse. The sound of words prevails before their meanings become the intent, formless enough to be molded into opinions of what those words meant when set to music. The dominion over words removed from music as silence is coupled to original thought but authenticity in music is derived from the singer’s use of instruments to carry the thought in a tune. The music should at least be as good as the lyrics. Sometimes I just have to turn the music off. Other times the singer alone can make me sob.
(replace the words “original thought” with “dancing” if you need to read this post again)
Francis Erich McElroy 