Monday, 12 September 2011

Micro-lyrics

What is the influence of Twitter on pop music? Sure, Twitter plays its role in promotion, marketing, and keeping in touch with the fans, but I think I have detected a deeper effect as well.

Exhibit A is Club of Rome by brilliant, little-known band the Cads. Listen... rightchere! The Cads are my band of the moment, in fact, and one thing I like is their shining, lightly-worn modernity. They deploy their lyrics in short, economical phrases, separated by instrumental bits that give them time to sink in. Sometimes they repeat a phrase a few times. In case you haven’t picked it up yet, that approach reminds me of Twitter.

I imagine the start of Club of Rome as a Twitter feed that would look something like this:

The first few lines of Club of Rome mocked up as though they were on the Cads' Twitter feed.

Neat, huh? And that’s getting on for half the song. (Those aren’t real tweets, I mocked it up). What a good way to write lyrics - and so current!

And so to Exhibit B. We leave the indie world and find ourselves in the mainstream, where a couple of months later the Saturdays (and it wouldn’t do to forget Xenomania) are taking the same approach with their track All Fired Up. The UK’s current number 3 single has Cads-style, Twitterish lyrics that could look a little like this:

The first few lines of All Fired Up mocked up as though they were on the Sats' Twitter feed.

Again, those are mocked up, but that’s essentially what the lyrics are - a Twitter feed from a pink smartphone on a Saturday night.

I like this trend a lot. Especially in pop music, traditional verses are often wordy filler that doesn’t even fit much of a tune. Now Twitter is teaching people to be a bit more elegant, that filler is getting stripped out and replaced with hook phrases that in the past would have cropped up only once or twice a song at most, and sometimes not at all. Less blather, more poetry. #ThankyouTwitter

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Oh my days

Originally written 20 Feb 2010.

According to Dot Wordsworth in the Spectator, the Portuguese days are just called after numbers - they translate as Day One, Day Two, Day Three and so on. What must the people of this unfussy, mathematically minded nation think when they learn English and find out that about half a billion people worldwide go round naming their week after a posse of mead-swilling, axe-swinging gods? Day names are pretty basic too, probably covered in the first few lessons. For a while, these Portuguese eleven-year-olds must wonder what else we name after bloodthirsty Aesir. We should name more things after them. Kettles should be Thor’s pots.

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

The curious cases of Twitter

Like a lot of people, I’m interested in Twitter because it gives me short, timely updates from my friends, from celebrities like the Rock, and from organisations like Opta Sports (although they seem to rather like the sound of their own tweeting). Like considerably fewer, I’m also interested in Twitter because of its innovations in grammar.

Assuming you know what a vocative case is, you’ll know that English doesn’t normally have one. Latin vocatives are sometimes translated as “O Brian” or whoever, but that’s more as a fudge to get the meaning across than because the “O” form is a true English vocative. But on Twitter, there is a vocative form. Every Twitter user, in fact, has a vocative form of their name. Some are regular (@AlexisPetridis for Alexis Petridis); some are highly irregular (@Monstroso for Charlie Higson). All can be recognised because they start with the linguistically innovative @ sign.

This is very useful. If you want to address someone, you can use the vocative form of their name. Say “@AlexisPetridis, I enjoyed your hilarious review of the Paris Hilton album”, and it’s not only clear that you are addressing Alexis P, but thanks to the way Twitter works, Alexis P is quite likely to see your tweet and hear what you’ve got to say to him. In this way, it works just like a technologically-powered Latin vocative.

But that’s not all. This vocative form has an extra flexibility that enables you to transform a word in another case into a vocative as well. Let’s take the example above, but change “Paris Hilton” into the vocative form: “@AlexisPetridis, I enjoyed your hilarious review of the @ParisHilton album.” Here, the original meaning is preserved, but the vocative term “@ParisHilton” does an extra job: it tells the reader (and the Twitter system) that the remark is directed at Paris Hilton as well as mentioning her. Paris Hilton can then find it, read it and feel pleased that her album is still fondly remembered, albeit for providing good material for Petridis’s eloquent mockery.

And as if introducing a ground-breaking vocative into the English language wasn’t enough, Twitter features an additional case that I don’t think exists in any other language. I’m going to call this case the referrative case. This is the one that’s formed using a # symbol.

Let’s say you want to talk about Wimbledon; you might say “I bet Novak Djokovic wins Wimbledon!” Here, one might say that Wimbledon is in the dative case, or one could say that it’s in that single, catch-all case that most English nouns are usually in. On Twitter, you have the option of using the referrative case and saying instead: “I bet Novak Djokovic wins #Wimbledon!”. This is a way of saying that Wimbledon isn’t just in the sentence, it’s the topic of the sentence; conceptually, Wimbledon is what that sentence is all about.

As far as I know, this referrative idea is very new. The closest thing I can think of in spoken or normally-written English is when you use an adverb to premodify a whole sentence, eg “Hopefully, Novak Djokovic will win Wimbledon”. On Twitter, this could be expressed more elegantly using the referrative form: “Novak Djokovic will win Wimbledon #hopes”. Now that we see it on Twitter, it seems almost strange that other languages don’t have this form. Certainly Twitter users are finding endless uses for it, both to provide context and to add extra subtleties and nuances to what they are saying, or ironically undercut it.

It’s a shame, in fact, that there’s no obvious pronunciation for the # character. It doesn’t need one, because like other web words such as pwned and lmfao, it’s not designed to be said; the reader can voice it internally however he sees fit, or maybe it’s possible to read such a word without voicing it at all. But if there were a way of speaking the referrative case, perhaps it would enter spoken English. Just think of the possibilities if it did!