It's been many years since I've had the words of Morrissey safely stored away in my head, ready to be quoted at any instant. But as with any great songwriter, there are still discoveries to be made when I relisten to his songs. Recently, I figured out another reason that I feel a sense of connection with the lyrics. Sure, there's the unforgettable line in "How Soon Is Now?", which till this day I can't imagine is actually featured in a pop song; and yes, there's the wit mixed with mopiness that very strongly mirrors one facet of me. But my recent observation is that a recurrent theme in his songs is living your life by a code that is supposed to lead you to someplace good, but instead brings only ruin. This is most obviously manifested in songs dealing with matters of the heart (which is most of them ;-)); many of them express dismay that one can be so emotionally open, and yet find oneself, well, alone. It's melodrama to suggest that sums up my life, but it definitely elicits a knowing nod from me. I suspect that what really gets to me is how Morrissey reacts to this fact: passively, helplessly, with almost impossibly muted displays of frustration. You might say this points at the realization that such problems are ultimately immaterial, and not worth anything more than a mention. He said it himself with his recent "That's How People Grow Up", not coincidentally a strong favourite of mine. And of course it's true, and of course in the scheme of things, this is no crucifix that we are bound to. Yet, one can only argue this up to a point, because it glosses over a certain spiritual timidity that the Moz and I share. Such is life. But, as with Morrissey, but my plea is unchanged; I stand by my claim of a few years ago. Don't know what it is I'm living for, but if the occasional flash of beauty is all that the Path brings, so be it.

I wrote about "rock poetry" a few years ago, with no success - not even I understand just what my position was at the time. I'd like to make a quick observation on the matter now that some time has passed. My stance now is strongly inspired by Christgau's: namely, that the function of lyrics is rather different than that of a poem, as the latter is meant to be read, the former to be sung. Good lyrics can often seem unusually flat when quoted, the words themselves sans musical context somehow seeming not as bright as when heard. Their general inability to translate strongly to the pure page shouldn't be taken as a negative pronouncement on the form, I think: it's just that lyrics (obviously) rely on their medium to convey emotion, and so comparisons to classical poetry are unfair. I understand what people mean when they call gifted songwriters "poets" - the meaning of the word has somewhat shifted I suppose - but taking it too literally can lead to confusion and crises of confidence (I speak from experience!). It's a different form, and has different methods of making you feel something. So, assessing the worth of a songwriter is necessarily more complex than simply comparing his writing to that of poets past - for there are few who could rise to such a challenge.

As always, this view is subject to change as well, but the issue was bothering me for a while now. I never knew mimicking Christgau was such an easy option!

Sometimes I think it impossibly strange, and impossibly funny, that a non-trivial amount of the writings here are attempts at verses. I don't know if I can give you any explanation as to why I feel like making such attempts, especially given how dissatisfied I usually end up with them. Yes, there have been times when I have looked back on something and felt glad that I wrote it (by which I mean I did not feel embarassed reading it again, and I did not feel like it was obviously bad!), but I would have to say that by and large, I am left feeling quite sheepish with most of what I write.

Given how little poetry I read, I really do wonder where I get the inspiration to put my thoughts into this particular form of expression. I can excuse my prose seeing as how I do still read books from time to time, but the poetry? I suppose it shows in the material - I can't say that they display any sort of finesse or well-honed style. And yet, I somehow do not feel overwhelmingly embarassed about most of them, which I suppose means that they are, at best, mediocre.

Sometimes, of course, I wonder why I bother thinking so much about such things; I say "Leave the poor lad be, let him express himself, pedestrian though it may be!". And of course, it doesn't really matter, but still, I suppose it is interesting because I can't quite pin down the motivation of this habit of mine. While I can try to explain its origins, its continuation is a mystery!

Who knows, perhaps they are my attempts at songwriting - the harsh street poetry of the modern day! Maybe in a few years my mode of discourse will become radical, experimental songs that eschew conventional verse-chorus structure and start a new branch of songwriting...!

Even though it has been a good two or three years since I've heard a Dylan album in a sitting, I've recently dispelled the notion that my tastes had somehow moved on past him. It would have been an unfathomable suggestion at one point, but there was a time not so long ago, when I re-played some of his tracks that weren't particularly familiar to me, that I began to wonder whether he was no longer doing it for me. It turns out, however, that perhaps those tracks were not so familiar for a reason*!

I've chanced upon snippets of the Genuine Basement Tapes, which are proving to be most interesting. I always loved a few tracks from the officially issued Basement Tapes, but on the whole I thought of it as something of loads of historical, rather than musical interest. I never did understand what so many critics were raving about, but only now have I realized that they were raving about a 5 CD set, not the official 2 CD one! There are a couple of songs in particular that have made me think that I've cracked it, and figured out the difference between greatness and genius. Since I'm sometimes quite cynical, I think it also to be the difference between Dylan and his many followers, whose talents range from genuine to merely perfunctory. I listened to "Frankie Lee And Judas Priest", and "Jokerman", and after marvelling that the same person wrote both songs, I realized what good friends they (the songs) were, and how I don't think I've heard anyone else who has managed to approach Dylan in terms of songwriting. Moments of genius I've heard plenty, but I suppose Dylan was there first, and will probably never be bested - at least, not to my ears.

* No naming names, but it's clear that not everything he did was genius, or even very good. As with pretty much every artist, I suppose.