The Restrictions of Lyricism: David Byrne reflects on the “dumbest metaphor” he used in a song
Although lyrics aren’t always the most important part of music, they almost always enhance the appeal of a certain song. While there is no doubt that the radio is filled with strange and empty linguistic choices, the true poets in music—the ones who view lyrics as real artistic facets of music—know when to spot shortcomings in their own work. David Byrne, for one, is haunted by one of his own attempts at musical wordplay.
As the leader of Talking Heads, Byrne always utilised the power of abstract and enigmatic wordplay almost as a secondary feature. Instead, he focused on the emotional and visceral appeal of a song rather than agonising over whether he was getting his point across verbally. As a result, he helped pioneer a new era of art rock with quirky, lyrical vagueness that forced you to experience the songs rather than listen to them.
However, Talking Heads were never viewed as lyrical amateurs, partially because their distraction never meant their word choices were bad, per se, but mainly because, though simple in places, they were whimsical and witty enough to warrant a strong sense of originality and authenticity. In ‘Once In A Lifetime’, for example, Byrne sings, “Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down / Letting the days go by, water flowing underground.”
As a result, their lyrics often infringed on the real and mundane facets of life by paradoxically capturing the strange or surreal nature of the concepts themselves. Using oddities in wordplay and toying with the boundaries of lyrical expectation, Talking Heads became torchbearers in a specific type of poeticism that captured complex ideas with sharp and satirical discourse.
Sometimes, Byrne’s lyrics are complete nonsense, of course, but this was purely because he firmly believes in the often restrictive nature of words and their place in broader instrumentation. The frontman even discussed this in his memoir, How Music Works, describing bad lyricism as “a dangerous addition to music” because they can “pin it down.”
He continued, “Words imply that the music is about what the words say, literally, and nothing more. If done poorly, they can destroy the pleasant ambiguity that constitutes much of the reason we love music.”
Understanding the potential pitfalls of incorporating poor lyrics in a potentially great song, Byrne prefers to let the music speak for itself. However, he once pinpointed one moment he slipped up and included a metaphor he would have liked to have left out. In his world, ambiguity far exceeds directness when it comes to music, so anything that seems on the nose almost always loses meaning rather than adds to it.
Discussing the power of ambiguity, he touched upon some of the psychological facets, explaining that, when utilised correctly, lyrical vagueness can allow listeners to tailor the song however they please and gain new avenues of enjoyment from the listening experience. In his view, words “limit” that experience, which is never good.
For this reason, he comically admitted he finds it challenging to listen to Beyoncé’s ‘Irreplaceable’ for similar reasons he recoils when he hears his song ‘Astronaut’. “There are plenty of beautiful tracks that I can’t listen to because they’ve been “ruined” by bad words — my own and others,” he wrote. “In Beyonce’s song ‘Irreplaceable’, she rhymes “minute” with “minute,” and I cringe every time I hear it (partly because by that point I’m singing along).”
On ‘Astronaut’, he added: “I wrap up with the line “feel like I’m an astronaut,” which seems like the dumbest metaphor for alienation ever. Ugh.” It seems even Byrne is not immune to his own preferences when it comes to music, but his admission proves he is consistently striving to reach for that unique space where obscurity thrives, free from the shackles of language.
