I’m guessing after one look at the title of this post confusion washed through your body and you felt cold and scared. “Where is the song title,” the question shivered from your mouth as your teeth chattered. Okay, none of that happened but in case you were wondering lyric #47 starts a brand new ball game of lyrics of the day. Why? I was getting a little bored of random songs. So, without further ado, I will reveal to you the new format.
It is nearly impossible to take all of the rock lyricists who have ever written a much sought after first word down on a piece of paper and rank them. Think about it. How many rock songs are out there? How many of these songs have poetry behind the guitars, the drums, the keyboards? The answer is a lot and I have to give my total props to the list compiled by Digitaldreamdoor of the top 100 lyricists of all time. I guess by now you know where I am going with this. For today, and the following lyrics of the day I will follow their list loosely from 100-1. What I mean by loosely is, if there is someone at a spot that I do not believe should even be on the list I am going to replace their name by someone not on the list who I think deserves it more. Easy enough? Oh yeah, the way the posts will work is a little information about the lyricists and then a segment from what I believe to be there best work. Shall we begin?
Digitaldreamdoor’s #100: Axl Rose
My Pick: Robin Pecknold
Immediately a change in the list. As we go through the lyricists lower down on the list you will see the majority of the changes. Not saying the lyricists replaced are poor with words, but, the ones that I replace them with are, most likely, rising younger musicians. So is the case with #100. Axl Rose never really hit it off for me. Guns & Roses, in my opinion, was made mainly by the excellent guitar playing of Slash, rather then the lyrical prowess of Rose. “Welcome to the Jungle,” “Sweet Child of Mine,” they all are rather corny and, in some cases, grotesque. How can I give credit to a lyricist who wrote,
“Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
I, I wanna hear you scream”
It just ain’t happening. I mean I am all for metaphors but I mean come on. That is a horribly noticeable metaphor. Axl Rose you are not a hard man to read. So, instead of Axl Rose’s insipid lyric, let us focus on lyrics that thrive on taste. Lyrics that are wonderfully pastoral and make you want to go outside, rather then looking out for the jungle that is Axl Rose’s no-no zone.
Robin Pecknold is the singer/guitarist/lead song-writer of the relatively new band Fleet Foxes. The only reason why he is not on this illustrious list of song writers is because the last time the list was updated was in 2005. Pecknold is only 23 right now and his band did not come to fame until 2007. See the time problems? If the list was continually updated Pecknold may be at around 80 but I am not changing the order just some of the named.
Pecknold, who has admitted suffering from social anxiety, is indeed an eccentric person and this is portrayed in his lyric. He comes from a music background in Seattle, Washington, proving that awesome bands will always come out of a place that rains coffee everyday. His father played in an underground Seattle band entitled The Fathoms (not to be confused by the Boston band of the same name). This Fathoms played a similar style of music to The Dynamics, an interesting soul/horn mix. Pecknold’s sister is also a rock critic for the magazine Seattle Weekly. I love Fleet Foxes who describes their music as, “Baroque harmonic pop jams.” The oddness just emits itself from their instruments. But, it is their elaborate vocal harmonies mixed with the rustic, bucolic feel that drifts into awaiting ears that makes them so good. Man, I am running out of adjectives. Anyways, on to my favorite lyrics. Soon you will see why Robin Pecknold is kinda much better then Axl Rose.
“I was following the pack
all swallowed in their coats
with scarves of red tied ’round their throats
to keep their little heads
from fallin’ in the snow
And I turned ’round and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
and turn the white snow red as strawberries
in the summertime..”
“White Winter Hymnal,” by Fleet Foxes (written by Robin Pecknold) off of their debut album Fleet Foxes
So, let’s see. “Welcome to the Jungle, We have fun and games,” compared to this beautiful imagery. I think it is a no brainer. How about you?
The Music Court 
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