Sound words.

Translating music to words, more specifically words that can paint an accurate picture of what a particular piece of music sounds like, can be a fairly daunting task. Furthermore, an attempt to do so is bound to be over complicated and impractical for most readers. So when most writers approach such a task they make no attempt to wholly explain the music they are writing about. Instead, they focus on describing a small aspect of it and then move on to talking about the social lives of the composers or some other irrelevant dribble. I myself am readily guilty of this.

But who's to say this is a bad means of writing about music? Audiences don't want detailed descriptions of a song, they want opinion and insight. The bulk of mainstream music writing is arranged in this way.

The English language is not designed to describe music. We have another language for that: music. We often find ourselves incorporating musical language into English conversation in order to better describe the topic. However, this risks leaving audience members with no understanding of musical vocabulary in the dark. And so, we find ourselves torn between accurately describing music with words not everyone will be able to recognize and the terrifying alternate: being creative.

Before we get into the later option, I would like to quickly cite that there is one way of describing music that does not require niche language or artistic endeavors. You find a point of reference for the object of description. Rather, you find something to compare it to. Similar genres, bands and songs all help paint a good picture of what exactly it is you are talking about. Of course, by citing specific bands and songs you are again making the assumption that your audience knows what your talking about. The only surefire way to include as many readers as possible is to use your imagination.

I suppose the reason I don't like writing about music is because I'm used to talking to other musicians about music in musical language. So when it comes to talking to people that don't speak the language... well, it's like trying to tell Grandma how to use a PC. Call me pretentious buts it's still not that fun.

Anyway, here's some excerpts of people trying to describing sounds.



Hunter’s new album, “Man Overboard” (New West), finds him revisiting the successful formula of those recent records, focussing on strong songwriting and straightforward rock and roll. As Hunter has gotten older, he has gotten better at writing songs that are about something different from what they first appear to be—or rather, he writes songs that are about more than one thing. The opener, “The Great Escape,” takes a story about a youthful barroom fight and refashions it as a tragicomic meditation on mortality. “Girl from the Office,” a sweet look at a workplace crush, has plenty to say about masculinity, freedom, and mystery. “Babylon Blues” has a wonderfully ragged vocal from Hunter, here in the service of a spirited bit of invective (“Don’t try pulling me down to your level / Ain’t nothing worse than a phony-assed rebel”). And the title track starts off as a companion piece to his late-seventies hit “Ships” and ends up as an equivocal defense of the escapist powers of alcohol.
-Ben Greenman, The New Yorker

Greenman Focuses on the lyrical content of the music. This leaves his readers with a good understanding of what the music he describes is about but they have virtually no idea what the album sounds like. In this day and age "rock and roll" is a vague term. I would never call something just "rock and roll" without further explanation. Also, notice that Greenman seems to assume that his readers have already listened to the artist.

The Deep Dark Woods brings playfulness, human warmth, and an utterly fun rhythm section to the shadowy traditions of roots music.

-Winnipeg Folk Festival program

Human warmth? Clearly no music can emulate such a divine concept? Perhaps The Deep Dark Woods have tapped into some unknown chord that brings listeners to feel as if a lover is holding them tightly NEVER TO LET GO. Yes, this clearly must be an album fueled by dark magic, probably found in a deep dark forest. I must buy it so I might experience this phenomenon on my own.

There are no guitars and no vocals in Bell Orchestre, only a drum kit surrounded by what one might interpret as a traditional baroque quintet.

Rest assured though, this is nothing like those Bach pieces your piano teacher used to drone into your head.

-Me, The Uniter

Am I embarrassed that I wrote a review that sounds like a movie trailer? No. No I am not.

Well, there you have it: an incoherent rant that didn't actually come to any form of conclusion. Good day to you.