is evil losing his edge? or has he realized what’s really important in life?

gnarls-barkley-crazy

The single cover kind of tips you off, but still . . .

As Evil was tooling down the road from the mountains yesterday, “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley popped up on his iPod. For the first time, Evil noticed the lyrics—and realized that they’re actually about being, you know, crazy. Crazy crazy.

Evil had always assumed the lyrics were about some woman making Cee-Lo craaaaaaazy. Seems a reasonable assumption, right? It was insanely popular in the clubs, and most Top 40 songs aren’t about mental incapacity and breakdowns. But there are tons of songs about women making men crazy, or crazy women and the men who love/fear them, or the craziness of romance in general.

But no—he’s talking about insanity. Madness. Humours.

This strikes Evil not only as odd, but as a warning sign, a shot over the bow of his identity, his sense of self. Time was, lyrics were absolutely the most important aspect of a song to him. The greatest music in the world could be ruined by one idiotic turn of phrase. Conversely, a clever line could elevate what was otherwise an unremarkable tune. (See: the more recent Old 97’s catalog.)

Yet the lyrical content of one of the most overplayed singles in recent memory had completely passed the Evil by.

This begs the question: has Evil lost some part of the edge that made him, well, Evil? Or have more pressing matters conspired to render something as silly as song lyrics insignificant in the grand scheme of things?

Something to ponder. It probably doesn’t matter much either way. But at the same time, Evil is somewhat depressed that he might simply nod along to monumentally stupid lyrics rather than cackle Evilly at them. Is life really worth living if you don’t notice

Escargot,
My car go,
One sixty,
Quickly.

by the immortal Notorious B.I.G.? (And people say this guy was one of the best rappers ever. Yeesh.)

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3 thoughts on “is evil losing his edge? or has he realized what’s really important in life?”

  1. Being a rock lyricist is the singlemost noble vocation a human can undertake, and certainly the one that requires the highest level of personal responsibility.

    Back in the day, there were people called “poets,” and their profession was so unbelievably valuable to humanity that they got paid to sit around being “sensitive” and travelling to “gain life experience” and so forth. They also got laid a lot, and believe me, “poetry groupies” are one hell of a classy crowd.

    But then came Marx, and equal-opposite Rand, and all the sudden just thinking beautiful thoughts isn’t enough of a full-time job for the poets to reliably get laid by the best quality people anymore, and so Rock n Roll was born. And so now, poets are not only making shitloads of money and getting all the pussy and cock they can handle, but now everybody actually pays attention to what they have to say, and singing along even! Millions of ’em! And hell, look at Bono — he even managed to get elected Pope or something. How friggen impressive is that?

    Anyway, I learned pretty much all I know from Talking Heads lyrics, so you can see just how intenesly powerful and important lyrics can be.

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