In eight grade, we were supposed to vote for a class song to commemorate our upcoming graduation. The two nominees were "Graduation Song" by Vitamin C and "Time of Your Life" by Green Day. I remember my friends and classmates actually campaigning for their preference, even though it would just be played once at one of the graduation festivities and not graduation itself. Roughly speaking, the two songs carved out a gender divide, with girls voting for Vitamin C and the boys gunning for Green Day. As there were more boys in the class by the slightest of margins, "Time of Your Life" won.
In later years, I found it strange when other people told me their graduation song was also "Time of Your Life." I could not fathom how something so intensely personal as my eighth-grade graduation song had been co-opted by other people, who I all swore did not get the lyrics as well as I did. But now I understand there was never anything in the lyrics that spoke to me; rather, I had spoken to myself through the lyrics. The lines were so generic, like high school poetry— "Another turning point /a fork stuck in the road / Time grabs you by the wrist / directs you where to go" — through which I could superimpose my own meaning onto the song. I think the best songs function in this manner, that is, like a horoscope: You are able to read in them whatever you wish.
Good point! I also read once that great songs can get away with having vapid lyrics because it's not the words that matter, but the rhythm they create and how they interact with the melody. The music fills in the spaces the words leave behind. I guess that seems pretty obvious but it went a long way towards helping me understand why I like Lady Gaga so much.
ReplyDeleteWe sang "Seasons of Love" from Rent at my high school baccalaureate. Meh.
ReplyDeleteThere's definitely value in room to fill in your own blanks, but I think that relies a lot on nostalgia, and as has been mentioned already, the accompanying music.