I had the pleasure today, while driving in my Cadillac Car and listening to the radio...

I had the pleasure of listening to Bruce Springsteen singing, Thunder Road,
a rare live version, with no guitar or bass or drums, just Roy Bitian on piano
while Bruce sung the song’s lyrics.  The screen door slams.  Mary’s dress waves. 
Like a vision she dances across the floor as the radio plays.  Roy Orbison sang
for the lonely Hey that’s me and I want you only…

It made me think of the great American singer/songwriters: Paul Simon, Bob Dylan,
Bruce Springsteen, John Foggerty, Cat Stevens, even Frank Black.  What is it about
some rock n roll songwriters that elevates them beyond the cool quick lyrics of say
Van Halen or Bon Jovi, who is another great American songwriter?  What is it that gives elite,
timeless status to singer/songwriters; as opposed to, what older Americans may have said
in the sixties when they first heard Rock and Roll. It’s just noise!?!?  What gives?

In 2010, classical musicians, classically trained and universally educated, perform works
composed by Handel, Mozart, and other classical musicians -- there is no weirdness in these
productions; like -- hey, these musicians didn't write the music; they didn't live in 18th or 19th
century Bavaria or Austrian-Hungary.  That question never comes up.  Anybody talented
enough can play Mozart or Puccini and gather acclaim.

So, when I saw that RUSH tribute band on Saturday night, my only feeling was -- 10 bucks
to hear RUSH's music from the 70's performed by a band that looked like RUSH from the
70's, as opposed to paying 80 bucks to see the real RUSH promoting their latest album –
Experiencing RUSH playing the live, extended version of Working Man with full on 12 minute
jam with less than 100 people watching -- I felt I was at the better show with the tribute
band. They were amazing. They put on stellar show. They were called Caress of Steel, and
they play in LA regularly.  Their singer can actually hit the old Geddy Lee falsettos.

Still, what about the great American singer/songwriters?  Even the Canadians, like Neil Young?

I've mentioned many of the great rock singer/songwriters -- what about other original
American genres of music?  Jazz, swing, blues -- other American original music hasn't
placed an emphasis on lyrics.

Lyrics -- that is what elevates Dylan and Springsteen over other worthy singers / songwriters
like John Foggerty or Bob Segar or Tom Petty.  It's the lyrics.  Dylan and Springsteen always
have at least 4 verses per song, sometimes 5; and their words go on for endless. 

I think Kurt Kobain was a great song writer, but he never had the lyrical, literary integrity that
Springsteen and Dylan have. Even Jim Morrison never had that Troubadour verse thing going
on.  Most rock songs work with catchy couplets or simple lyrics, but the Dylan and Springsteen
lyrics, more than any other American lyricist, not only tell a story, but do so in a longwinded manner.

So let’s cut to the OTHER American musical form -- RAP MUSIC or HIP HOP. I can think of
a lot of acts that I’ve loved. Public Enemy, Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Queen Latifah –
so many artists from the 80’s to the 90’s
to the new Millennium. Jay Z, Babyface, 50 Cent, Cyprus Hill – I’m a big fan of many hip hop
artists – I think Mos Def is most talented. Still, if I had to choose a favorite rock and roll band,
I couldn’t. There’s no way.  Queen, Zep, The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZTOP, The Minuteman.
I could not choose a single favorite.  I like too many. 


However, if I had to choose a favorite rapper, I’d have no problem choosing.  Ice Cube would
be my choice. Hands down. I’ve been a fan of Ice Cube since he was in NWA.  He wrote
their best lyrics, although Easy E sometimes rapped them.  Ice Cube is, in my opinion,
the greatest American songwriter in the rap genre, more than Chuck D. or any other rapper
in the 80’s, 90’s or 2000’s. Why? Is it cuz he is so offensive? Perhaps. It is his clear-cut
approach to life, speaking out about stuff that may offend. It is for this reason, not so much
the subversive element, as much as his honesty and ability to talk about taboo subjects in
such as clear light. 

It is for this reason that I deem ICE CUBE as the greatest lyricist of this current time. And
in the same way I elevate Dylan, who needs no props, and ICE CUBE, who gets only props
here, I think Eminem is the voice of my generation come 2010. Eminem’s RELAPSE album
is the great music, lyrically, that has come out America since Bob Dylan.

This is my mere opinion. And here are some Eminem lyrics from Relapse. Enjoy. 

Here comes the rain, and thunder now
Nowhere to run, to run to now
I disappeared, they'll wonder how
Looking for me, I'm underground

Dre, I'm down here, under the ground, dig me up
Broken tibias, fibias, yeah fix me up
60 sluts, all of them dying from asphyxia
After they sip piss through a Christopher Reeves sippy cup

Dixie cups, toxins, boxes of oxy pads
Enough oxy cotton to send a fucking Ox to rehab
Whack job in the back, in a black stocking cap
Jacking off to a hockey mask, at a boxing match

"He can't say that", yes he can, I just did faggot
Now guess again, you better text message your next of kin
Tell em shit's about to get extra messy, especially when
I flex again, and throw a fuckin' lesbian in wet cement

Faggoty faggoty faggoty, raggedy Anne and Andy, no
Raggedy Andy and Andy, no it can't be, it can't be
Yes it can be, the fuckin' anti-christ is back Danny
It's Satan in black satin panties

This is Amityville, calamity, god damn it insanity
Pills, fanny pack filled with Xany's
Through every nook and cranny, lookin' for trannys
Milk and cookies, spilt on my silk negligee, looky

Razor b-lades with me to make you b-leed
Cases of Maybelline make up lay on a table of weed
Slim Shady, shit sounds like a fable to me
'Til he jumps out of the fuckin' toilet when you're takin' a pee

Here comes the rain, and thunder now
Nowhere to run, to run to now
I disappeared, they'll wonder how
Looking for me, I'm underground

6 semen samples, 17 strands of hair
Found in the back of a van after the shoot with Vanity Fair
Hannah Montana prepare to elope with a can opener
And be cut open like cantaloupe on canopy beds

And gladbags yeah, glad to be back
Cause last year was a tragedy that landed me smack dab in rehab
Fuckin' doctor, I ain't understand a damn what he said
I planned to relapse the second I walked out of that bitch

Two weeks in Brighton, I ain't enlightened
Biting into a fuckin' vicodin like I'm a viking
Oh lightening is striking, might be a fuckin' sign I need a psychic
Evaluation, fuck Jason it's Friday the 19th

That means it's just a regular day
And this is the kinda shit I think of regularly
Fuckin' lesbian, shouldn't of had her legs in the way
Now she's pregnant and gay, missing both legs and begging to stay

Here comes the rain, and thunder now
Nowhere to run, to run to now
I disappeared, they'll wonder how
Looking for me, I'm underground

Tell the critics I'm back and I'm coming
To spit it back in abundance
Hit a fag with onions, then split a fag of Funions
Mad at me, understandable, cannibal, shoot an animal
out of a cannon and have him catapult, add an adult

Captain of a cult, with an elite following
To turn halloween back to a trick or treat holiday
Have Michael Myers looking like a liar
Swipe his powers, replace his knife with flowers and a stack of flyers

Hit Jason Vorhees with a 40, stuck a sepository up his ass
And made him tell me a story, gave Hannibal lector a fuckin' nectarine
And sat him in the fuckin' fruit and vegetables section and gave him a lecture

Walked up elm street with a fuckin' wiffle bat drew

Fought Freddy Krugar, and Edward Scissorhands too
Then came out with a little scratch, ooh
Looking like I got in a fucking pillow fight, with a triple fat goose

Insanity? can't it be vanity, where's the humanity

In havin' a twisted fantasy with an arm and leg amputee
Straight jacket with 108 brackets
And a strap that wraps twice around my back, then they latch it.
Cut your fuckin' head off, and that's where you headed off to

Get it, headed off to? Medic, this headache's awful
this anesthetic's pathetic, so's this diabetic waffle
and this prosthetic arm keeps crushing my hard taco

Here comes the rain, and thunder now
Nowhere to run, to run to now
I disappeared, they'll wonder how
Looking for me, I'm underground