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Who's the greatest ever Lyricist?


Redder Lurtz
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MacGowan has to be up there, pure poetry. Roger Waters too. Damien Gough writes some very simple but clever lyrics. Yorke? He'd be up there too I guess. Lennon maybe but probably not McCartney. I love the bittersweet stuff that Heaton and Jamie T are so good at. Strummer deserves a mention too.

 

It's a tough one really and so many candidates. Anyone who evokes emotion with lyrics is worth a mention, regardless of the nature of that emotion.

 

If your bag is of the "yeah, yeah, yeah" / "yo, yo, yo" or "ooohhhh baby" ilk you needn't bother posting in here.

 

Just looking back over this post, seems all my favourites are British.

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Bob Dylan,Johny Cash,Willie Nelson,Kris Kristoferson,Bob Marley,Blind Lemon Jefferson, Robert Johnson,Sonny Boy Williamson

A few more to add to the pot

 

Don't lose your eye, man, to spite your face(2X)

because the people steady snitchin' on you, can't hide at no place

(Don't Lose Your Eye)

 

I have groceries on my pantry, groceries on my shelf

but that ain't the thing that worries me, it's that sleepin' by myself

(This Is My Apartment)

 

Please don't let your right hand know what your left hand do (2X)

I'm just tryin' to put your boots on you (and hip you woman)

'cause that unseen eye is watchin' you

(Unseen Eye)

 

Keep your hand outta my pocket, I ain't got nothin' belong to you (2X)

if you don't keep your hand outta my pocket, I'll have to call the police on you

(Keep Your Hand Out Of My Pocket)

 

The woman I'm talkin' about, she's specially built

a heavy-hipted woman, her shoulders is full-filled

she's got knee-action body, hydraulic hips,

air-conditioned stomach makes her backbone slip

(Have You Ever Been In Love)

Sonny Boy Williamson

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Nilsson, 1941

 

Well in 1941 a happy father had a son

And by 1944 the father walked right out the door

And in '45 the mom and son were still alive

But who could tell in '46 if the two were to survive

 

Well the years were passing quickly

But not fast enough for him

So he close his eyes through '55

And he opened them up again

When he looked around he saw a clown

And the clown seemed very gay

And he set that night to join that circus clown and run away

 

Well he followed every railroad track

An every highway sign

And he had a girl in each new town

And the towns he left behind

And the open road

Was the only road he knew

But the color of his dreams

Slowly turning into blue

 

The he met a girl the kind of girl

He wanted all his life

She was soft and kind and good to him

So he took her for a wife

And they got a house not far from town

And in a little while

The girl had seen the doctor

And she came home with a smile

 

Now in 1961 a happy father had a son

And by 1964 the father walked right out the door

And in '65 the mom and son were still around

But what will happen to the boy

When the circus comes to town

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I'd add Nige from Half Man Half Biscuit to the list here.

 

Not necessarily for "Fuck me, it's Fred Titmuss" but for his ability to come up with phrases which conjur up vivid images and stories:-

 

- "Not long now before lollipop men are called Darren"

 

- "Your optimism strikes me like junkmail addressed to the dead"

 

- "They've got a German Shepherd dog called Prince. The one called Sheba died."

 

- "I'm gonna feed our children non-organic food and with the money saved take them to the zoo."

 

- "But the beak in Leek is weak, so she's moved in (so to speak) with featureless TV producer Steve"

 

- "And the very last thing she saw in her life was Sting singing on the roof of the Barbican"

 

- "I'm just a primitive creature of the heath, so excuse my savage ignorance, but if I'm still on my feet at four o'clock I'll be stealing the lead off the roof"

 

 

etc.

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Tom Waits. A short example;

 

The Ocean Doesn't Want Me

 

The ocean doesn't want me today

But I'll be back tomorrow to play

And the strangels will take me down deep in their brine

The mischievous braingels

Down into the endless blue wine

I'll open my head and let out all of my time

I'd love to go drowning And to stay and to stay

But the ocean doesn't want me today

 

I'll go in up to here It can't possibly hurt

All they will find is my beer and my shirt

A riptide is raging and the lifeguard's away

But the ocean doesn't want me today

But the ocean doesn't want me today

The ocean doesn't want me today

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I dunno about best ever, but Connor Oberst is one of my favourites.

 

It just depends on whose music you like really, some of my favourite ever lyrics come from Arcade Fire (particularly in Funeral), because I like the songs so much and the words really capture the feeling/emotion and the themes brilliantly. I'm not as likely to appreciate lyrics from a band I don't like in a song I don't like, however good they might be.

 

From those mentioned in this thread I particulaly agree about Alex Turner, Stipe, and obviously Dylan.

 

I love Radiohead but I never really give that much thought to their lyrics, probably because the music is just so good, that and I sometimes have trouble making them out.

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The first person to mention that mockney turd Mike Skinner of The Streets gets knifed in the tits. If he is a poet like I keep hearing he is then Fearne Cotton is an authority on art history and philosophy of science.

 

Jim-Bob from Carter USM should get a shout here. His lyrics are full of wordplay, a real wordsmith and much overlooked. Also very touching when he wanted to be, see their Northern Ireland song "Look Mum, No Hands" for reference.

 

Business, as usual

starts with the sound

of another damn funeral march

through the town

One less for Saint Nicholas

there's nothing so vile

Or as sad and ridiculous

as the coffin of a child

 

He flies through the air

with the greatest of ease

That daring young man

in the blue dungarees

Struck down by the G-force

Of a Semtex surprise

He bucks like a sea horse

Keels over and dies

 

With his eyes all dramatic

glazed and confused

The full metal jacket,

trousers and shoes

 

He flies through the air

with the greatest of ease

That daring young man

in the blue dungarees

 

And his poor pathetic parents

so stricken with grief

that they spelt his name wrong

on his funeral wreath

are appealing for no vengence

on behalf of their son

But they've already assembled

and planted the bomb

 

He flies through the air

with the greatest of ease

That daring young man

in the blue dungarees

Struck down by the G-force

Of a Semtex surprise

He bucks like a sea horse

Keels over and dies

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