Anyone who’s heard Jimmy Barnes sing/scream might instantly ask, “what’s Cold Chisel got to do with copywriting?” Many would also ask, “why discuss the lyrics of a screaming pub-rock band?” My answer? Cold Chisel’s songwriters – particularly Don Walker and Ian Moss – were excellent writers; I wish I were half as good! The very fact that you might question my choice shows how good they are; Cold Chisel enjoy the status of one of Australia’s greatest ever pub rock bands, but most people – even fans – overlook the quality of their lyrics. That’s because the lyrics do their job so well. They’re elegant without being pretentious, and evocative without being ‘soft’.
They meet the needs of their audience perfectly. (And isn’t that what every writer aspires to?) Take, for example, “Bow River” (the song that inspired me to write about Cold Chisel today). Penned by Ian Moss, Bow River celebrates an escape to the Australian desert and the northern tropics. But what’s important about this song isn’t so much the destination – although many Australians do identify with the Australian outback; it’s the way in which Moss strikes a chord with the Australian working class. He successfully combines youthful romanticism, profanity, escapism, contempt for authority, slang, and visual, aural and tactile imagery. The result is an elegant piece of writing that captivates its target working class audience, yet still lends itself to fast-paced, raucous vocals and a hard rock arrangement. Take a look at the lyrics below (quoted from the Cold Chisel website).
Of course, as with all good song lyrics, you have to hear them in context to fully appreciate their inherent meter and timing, so whether it’s your first time or – like me – you’re revisiting after a long absence, it’s well worth a listen... Bow River Ian Moss Listen now to the wind babe . I don't need the score I'm goin' through the door Gonna tell the man I don't want no more Pick up a fast car and burn my name in the road One week two week maybe even more Piss all my money up against the damn wall First thing you know I'll be back in Bow River again First thing you know I'll be back in Bow River again Got the motor runnin', you can come around But don't leave it too late you just might find me gone Listen now to the wind babe Listen now to the wind babe Listen now to the wind babe . I don't need the score I'm goin' through the door Gonna tell the man I don't want no more Pick up a fast car and burn my name in the road One week two week maybe even more Piss all my money up against the damn wall First thing you know I'll be back in Bow River again Got the motor runnin', got the rest of my days Sold everything I owned for a song So anytime you want babe, you can come around But don't leave it too late you just might find me gone Listen now to the rain Feel that water lickin' at my feet again I don't wanna see another engine line Too many years and I owe my mind First set o' wheels headin' back Bow River again Anytime you want babe, you can come around But only six days separates me and the great top end I been working hard, twelve hours a day And the money I saved won't buy my youth again Goin' for the heat babe, and a tropical rain In a place where no man's puttin' on the dog for me Waitin' on the weekend, set o' brand new tyres And back in Bow River again Ah, it's music to a copywriter's ears (if not to the vocally trained).
One of the finest of Shelley’s poems is the Ode to the West Wind. Shelley was walking by the Arno in the wood among fallen leaves and saw massed clouds rising from the south-west to usher in the yearly storm with which the autumnal rains begin in October in Italy. The tempestuous motion of the tress and clouds awaken the tempestuous passion of his heart. The impulse from without and the awakened impulse within mingling in passionate embrace brought forth the poem. And the fusion of thought, emotion, metre and movement has imparted an organic unity to the poem. The poem opens with the west wind is still a wind and the cloud a cloud. They do not take on human attributes, though their qualities may be expressed images drawn from human beings. The Ode is much nearer to music than to painting being so full of sound motion.
It gives us a more authentic experience than we could get from any pictorial description. The metere which is terza rima is managed with complete mastery. As the lines rush through a complicated system of rhymes, they express the irresistible power and speed of the wind. And the music gets varied as if with sudden changes of instruments in an orchestra..
