Poetry Is Doomed, Part 2: A Rant in Two More Acts
1.
Poetry has occasionally found itself shackled to the machine of product advertising, and it is almost always an abysmal affair. Plugging a soft drink via art isn’t criminal in and of itself per se, given one is willing to look for those particular needles in those many non-particular haystacks. Plugging a soft drink AS art, however, is clearly a creature of another species, and it is this dynamic that punched me in the gut the other day as I was, once again, assaulted by McDonald’s new “green mood” salad commercial.
If you haven’t seen it, count yourself fortunate. If you have, you will no doubt recall the breathy, drawling yarn in full sing-song mode about the enticing ingredients in McDonald’s new California Cobb…or should I say, “Cal-i-FOR-nia Cooooooobb.”
As explanation, a quote from an article in the Denver Post, January 16, 2005:
“The spot looks like the fresh, green, leafy thoughts a woman has when she's in a mood for a McDonald's Premium Salad," Vicky Free, a director of marketing for McDonald's, said via e-mail. "We decided to have the 'thought-over' written as def poetry - a raw, from-the-heart lyrical sound. It's this woman's way of describing her 'green mood.' "
Please note: “spot” means “the commercial”. The implication here is that the commercial paints a picture of actual feeling, of relaying to the appropriate viewer a sense of escape and reward through achieving a state of “green mood” by viewing the commercial and in turn buying a salad (as if people actually walked around in moods reflecting primary crayon colors or worse, in a mood for a McDonald's Premium Salad specifically). That this is the intent of the commercial isn’t a new dynamic. Many people are not buying a particular air freshener because it has flowers on it, but because there’s a beautiful woman walking among flowers in a beautiful garden and they want to be like her: relaxed, smiling and married to a full-time horticulturalist. That Mickey D’s believes that the voice-over act as poetry - particularly poetry worthy of attracting women concerned about their lifestyle (read: obsessive weight compulsion) - is appalling.
Also note: “def poetry” as genre.
This one should have poets taking to the streets with sharpened pencils in hand, even the ones with Tony awards on their mantels.
It was bad enough when we had to contend with “poetry slam” as form (which it isn’t). Now we have to fight against having our work occasionally referred to as being “def poetry”-like. What this is an even greater indication of is the continuing preponderance of complete and utter ignorance about what poetry is and how it manifests in this day and age. The only reason that Vicky Free refers to the voice-over as being written “as def poetry”(save that she is perhaps caught in an ‘80s slang warp and actually walks around referring to things that she finds appealing as “def”) is because she believes that this is a form of poetry, an art form in and of itself. As if it were another flavor of poetry, much like gangsta rap is a flavor of hip-hop. As if the many poems that first appeared on Def Poetry Jam were not first poems read in slams or open mics or one woman shows or even published prior to hitting the radars of McDonalds’s cool hunters.
What is even worse is that Free practically admits to not considering the voice work in the commercial as poetry, despite its façade. Remember:
"We decided to have the 'thought-over' written as def poetry - a raw, from-the-heart lyrical sound.”
This is not even poetry as commercial. This is poetry as veneer and not even poetry if we’re honest. This is the perception of what poetry is when it’s “from-the-heart” and real. “Def poetry” has already been turned into a style before it has even been allowed to be mistaken as an art form. In case this point is not clear, I offer a crystal nutshell: “def poetry” is not a style, art form, voice or sound. It is a brand name, and referring to people’s art as “def poetry” is tantamount to calling the act of photocopying “Xeroxing”.
Finally, please also note, perhaps most importantly, information without which none of this report is possible: the three salads in question.
California Cobb Salad: premium mixed greens tossed with grape tomatoes, shaved carrots, crumbled bleu cheese, hickory-smoked bacon and chopped egg.
Caesar Salad: premium mixed greens with grape tomatoes, carrots, grated Parmesan cheese and savory garlic croutons.
Bacon Ranch Salad: premium mixed greens tossed with grape tomatoes, carrots, jack and cheddar cheese with hickory-smoked bacon.
Just in case you find yourself in a “green mood” this week, ladies. Fellas, sorry: you still have to eat the Big Macs.
[ Epilogue: It bears noting that I have to date been unsuccessful in uncovering who the voice in the commercial belongs to. Clearly, someone doesn't want to be known as the "def poet who gave voice to the green mood that is a feminine hunger for the California Cobb". ]
2.
I don’t dwell often on the notion of rap or hip-hop lyrics as poetry. It’s not that I don’t believe that they are - music lyrics are a form of poetry and rap lyrics are a form of musical lyrics, so you do the math - I do. It’s just that rap doesn’t need my help in making that point. In fact, fewer people should make the point than do.
Once in a while, however, a rap lyric bears particular mention for its wily construction, stunning meter, and fascinating word play, and rap superstar Ludacris’s “Splash Waterfalls” lyric construction bears particular note in this regard.
First, the lyrics en toto, with background singing in (parenthesis). It’s an intro / chorus / verse / chorus / second verse / chorus / third verse / final chorus:
====================
"Splash Waterfalls"
(feat. Sandy Coffee)
[INTRO - Ludacris + (Sandy Coffee); repeat 2x]
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh! Say it
(make love to me)
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh! What?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'm bout to throw some game,
they both one and the same
Cupid's the one to blame - say it
(make love to me)
I'm bout to shed some light,
cause each and every night
You gotta do it right - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Verse One]
They want it nice and slow,
kiss 'em from head to toe
Relax and let it go - say it
(make love to me)
They want it now and fast,
grabbin and smackin ass
You gotta make it last - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Together holdin hands,
you out there spendin grands
And makin family plans - say it
(make love to me)
Don't have to straighten facts,
don't want no strings attached
Just scratches on your BACK - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Ex's ain't actin right,
and you so glad to fight
Dinner's by candlelight - say it
(make love to me)
She got a nigga whipped,
down to ya fingertips
Tryin that freaky shit - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Turn on some Babyface,
just for your lady's sake
You call her babycakes - say it
(make love to me)
Know how to mack a broad,
she's on your sack and balls
You call her Jabberjaws - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
[Verse Two]
You bout to buy a ring,
she needs the finer things
Gucci designer frames - say it
(make love to me)
Purchase a nasty flick,
wrap up and tie her quick
Know how to drive a stick - what?
(fuck, meee!)
You both unite as one,
you the moon and she's your sun
Your heart's a beating drum - say it
(make love to me)
You better not of came,
she want to feel the pain
Then hear her scream your name - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Follow this DICK-tionary,
you're both some visionaries
Then do it missionary - say it
(make love to me)
I hear 'em call da wild,
and do it all the while
Doggy and FROGGY style - what?
(fuck, meee!)
You in between the sheets,
lickin and eatin sweets
And what you find you keep - say it
(make love to me)
You do it standin up,
orgasms hand 'em up
Y'all just don't GIVE A FUCK - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
You wanna tell the world,
cause she's your favorite girl
Your diamond and your pearl - say it
(make love to me)
Nobody has to know,
just keep it on the low
And meet 'em right at fo' - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Nothin but fights and fussin,
plus there's a lot of cussin
Just grab ahold of SOMETHIN - say it
(make love to me)
Y'all do that BAD stuff,
she like it rammed up
Ropes and HANDCUFFS - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
====================================
Catchy little thing, isn't it?
First things first: if you’re at all familiar with the song from the radio or its accompanying video on MTV, you likely noticed that the lyrics here are slightly different. Naughty words in the verses aren’t changed - they’re just beeped out on radio and TV for family values concessions - but the actual singing parts by Sandy Coffee are re-recorded: the “fuck me” refrain has been changed to the only mildly suggestive line “touch me”. This is important to note because the sung refrains frame the content of the lyrics, whose theme changes every three lines...the masterstroke of the song’s construction.
The theme of the song is love-making vs. sex and how they’re really not that different. Ludacris spells this out in the chorus, but drives the point home with the lyrical framing: He does 3 lines with softer love-making imagery, is met by the sweetly-sung refrain “Make love to me”, then commits 3 lines of sexual debauchery, followed by the smutty-though-still-sweet-sounding refrain, “Fuck me”. He does this throughout the entire song, and in non-traditional rap rhyme structure. Traditional rap rhyme structure is very much like the structure of much traditional rhyming poetry and 99% of American music lyrics, that is ABAB. “Splash Waterfalls” deconstructs this form into more of a 3-part chant, opting instead for a model of AAAR1 / BBBR2 (wherein R1 is Refrain 1 and R2 is Refrain 2).
The meter of “Splash Waterfalls” (something one wouldn’t usually bother to make note of as regards the average rap song) is carefully measured in nearly every line of the song. This isn’t an example of someone trying to fit in as many words as he can before the 3-minute mark; Ludacris hits just about every line in a steadily accent-stressed meter of 6 beats:
You / bout / to / buy / a / ring,
she / needs / the / finer / things
Gu- / -cci / de-/ -sign- / -er / frames - say it
(make love to me)
With the express purpose of putting a fine point on the matter: if rap ever wanted to make a case for itself as poetry, here is the new textbook standard.
You’ve been patient, reader, and for that you are to be commended. I know you’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, so here it is. The sad - aye, one might even say poetic - part of this dynamic gem of artistry is that:
a) it clearly owes more to rap as culture and form than it does to poetry as culture and form, so poets can’t go chalking this one up on their belts with any grand authority. Poets better brush up on their MC skills - or at least their rap history - if they want a piece of this clout, and even then it probably isn’t enough to make them any cooler.
And, for kicks and the mild among us, it’s also sad that:
b) it’s derogatory as hell (which is less my point, but not entirely un-noteworthy). How many places can you make the stunning case for this song that won’t run you out of the classroom because of its sexual content?
Rappers are pushing poetry values and structures in the mainstream with more authority than poets. Back to the drawing board, bards.
Poetry has occasionally found itself shackled to the machine of product advertising, and it is almost always an abysmal affair. Plugging a soft drink via art isn’t criminal in and of itself per se, given one is willing to look for those particular needles in those many non-particular haystacks. Plugging a soft drink AS art, however, is clearly a creature of another species, and it is this dynamic that punched me in the gut the other day as I was, once again, assaulted by McDonald’s new “green mood” salad commercial.
If you haven’t seen it, count yourself fortunate. If you have, you will no doubt recall the breathy, drawling yarn in full sing-song mode about the enticing ingredients in McDonald’s new California Cobb…or should I say, “Cal-i-FOR-nia Cooooooobb.”
As explanation, a quote from an article in the Denver Post, January 16, 2005:
“The spot looks like the fresh, green, leafy thoughts a woman has when she's in a mood for a McDonald's Premium Salad," Vicky Free, a director of marketing for McDonald's, said via e-mail. "We decided to have the 'thought-over' written as def poetry - a raw, from-the-heart lyrical sound. It's this woman's way of describing her 'green mood.' "
Please note: “spot” means “the commercial”. The implication here is that the commercial paints a picture of actual feeling, of relaying to the appropriate viewer a sense of escape and reward through achieving a state of “green mood” by viewing the commercial and in turn buying a salad (as if people actually walked around in moods reflecting primary crayon colors or worse, in a mood for a McDonald's Premium Salad specifically). That this is the intent of the commercial isn’t a new dynamic. Many people are not buying a particular air freshener because it has flowers on it, but because there’s a beautiful woman walking among flowers in a beautiful garden and they want to be like her: relaxed, smiling and married to a full-time horticulturalist. That Mickey D’s believes that the voice-over act as poetry - particularly poetry worthy of attracting women concerned about their lifestyle (read: obsessive weight compulsion) - is appalling.
Also note: “def poetry” as genre.
This one should have poets taking to the streets with sharpened pencils in hand, even the ones with Tony awards on their mantels.
It was bad enough when we had to contend with “poetry slam” as form (which it isn’t). Now we have to fight against having our work occasionally referred to as being “def poetry”-like. What this is an even greater indication of is the continuing preponderance of complete and utter ignorance about what poetry is and how it manifests in this day and age. The only reason that Vicky Free refers to the voice-over as being written “as def poetry”(save that she is perhaps caught in an ‘80s slang warp and actually walks around referring to things that she finds appealing as “def”) is because she believes that this is a form of poetry, an art form in and of itself. As if it were another flavor of poetry, much like gangsta rap is a flavor of hip-hop. As if the many poems that first appeared on Def Poetry Jam were not first poems read in slams or open mics or one woman shows or even published prior to hitting the radars of McDonalds’s cool hunters.
What is even worse is that Free practically admits to not considering the voice work in the commercial as poetry, despite its façade. Remember:
"We decided to have the 'thought-over' written as def poetry - a raw, from-the-heart lyrical sound.”
This is not even poetry as commercial. This is poetry as veneer and not even poetry if we’re honest. This is the perception of what poetry is when it’s “from-the-heart” and real. “Def poetry” has already been turned into a style before it has even been allowed to be mistaken as an art form. In case this point is not clear, I offer a crystal nutshell: “def poetry” is not a style, art form, voice or sound. It is a brand name, and referring to people’s art as “def poetry” is tantamount to calling the act of photocopying “Xeroxing”.
Finally, please also note, perhaps most importantly, information without which none of this report is possible: the three salads in question.
California Cobb Salad: premium mixed greens tossed with grape tomatoes, shaved carrots, crumbled bleu cheese, hickory-smoked bacon and chopped egg.
Caesar Salad: premium mixed greens with grape tomatoes, carrots, grated Parmesan cheese and savory garlic croutons.
Bacon Ranch Salad: premium mixed greens tossed with grape tomatoes, carrots, jack and cheddar cheese with hickory-smoked bacon.
Just in case you find yourself in a “green mood” this week, ladies. Fellas, sorry: you still have to eat the Big Macs.
[ Epilogue: It bears noting that I have to date been unsuccessful in uncovering who the voice in the commercial belongs to. Clearly, someone doesn't want to be known as the "def poet who gave voice to the green mood that is a feminine hunger for the California Cobb". ]
2.
I don’t dwell often on the notion of rap or hip-hop lyrics as poetry. It’s not that I don’t believe that they are - music lyrics are a form of poetry and rap lyrics are a form of musical lyrics, so you do the math - I do. It’s just that rap doesn’t need my help in making that point. In fact, fewer people should make the point than do.
Once in a while, however, a rap lyric bears particular mention for its wily construction, stunning meter, and fascinating word play, and rap superstar Ludacris’s “Splash Waterfalls” lyric construction bears particular note in this regard.
First, the lyrics en toto, with background singing in (parenthesis). It’s an intro / chorus / verse / chorus / second verse / chorus / third verse / final chorus:
====================
"Splash Waterfalls"
(feat. Sandy Coffee)
[INTRO - Ludacris + (Sandy Coffee); repeat 2x]
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh! Say it
(make love to me)
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh!
Ohhhh! What?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'm bout to throw some game,
they both one and the same
Cupid's the one to blame - say it
(make love to me)
I'm bout to shed some light,
cause each and every night
You gotta do it right - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Verse One]
They want it nice and slow,
kiss 'em from head to toe
Relax and let it go - say it
(make love to me)
They want it now and fast,
grabbin and smackin ass
You gotta make it last - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Together holdin hands,
you out there spendin grands
And makin family plans - say it
(make love to me)
Don't have to straighten facts,
don't want no strings attached
Just scratches on your BACK - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Ex's ain't actin right,
and you so glad to fight
Dinner's by candlelight - say it
(make love to me)
She got a nigga whipped,
down to ya fingertips
Tryin that freaky shit - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Turn on some Babyface,
just for your lady's sake
You call her babycakes - say it
(make love to me)
Know how to mack a broad,
she's on your sack and balls
You call her Jabberjaws - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
[Verse Two]
You bout to buy a ring,
she needs the finer things
Gucci designer frames - say it
(make love to me)
Purchase a nasty flick,
wrap up and tie her quick
Know how to drive a stick - what?
(fuck, meee!)
You both unite as one,
you the moon and she's your sun
Your heart's a beating drum - say it
(make love to me)
You better not of came,
she want to feel the pain
Then hear her scream your name - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Follow this DICK-tionary,
you're both some visionaries
Then do it missionary - say it
(make love to me)
I hear 'em call da wild,
and do it all the while
Doggy and FROGGY style - what?
(fuck, meee!)
You in between the sheets,
lickin and eatin sweets
And what you find you keep - say it
(make love to me)
You do it standin up,
orgasms hand 'em up
Y'all just don't GIVE A FUCK - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
You wanna tell the world,
cause she's your favorite girl
Your diamond and your pearl - say it
(make love to me)
Nobody has to know,
just keep it on the low
And meet 'em right at fo' - what?
(fuck, meee!)
Nothin but fights and fussin,
plus there's a lot of cussin
Just grab ahold of SOMETHIN - say it
(make love to me)
Y'all do that BAD stuff,
she like it rammed up
Ropes and HANDCUFFS - what?
(fuck, meee!)
[Chorus]
====================================
Catchy little thing, isn't it?
First things first: if you’re at all familiar with the song from the radio or its accompanying video on MTV, you likely noticed that the lyrics here are slightly different. Naughty words in the verses aren’t changed - they’re just beeped out on radio and TV for family values concessions - but the actual singing parts by Sandy Coffee are re-recorded: the “fuck me” refrain has been changed to the only mildly suggestive line “touch me”. This is important to note because the sung refrains frame the content of the lyrics, whose theme changes every three lines...the masterstroke of the song’s construction.
The theme of the song is love-making vs. sex and how they’re really not that different. Ludacris spells this out in the chorus, but drives the point home with the lyrical framing: He does 3 lines with softer love-making imagery, is met by the sweetly-sung refrain “Make love to me”, then commits 3 lines of sexual debauchery, followed by the smutty-though-still-sweet-sounding refrain, “Fuck me”. He does this throughout the entire song, and in non-traditional rap rhyme structure. Traditional rap rhyme structure is very much like the structure of much traditional rhyming poetry and 99% of American music lyrics, that is ABAB. “Splash Waterfalls” deconstructs this form into more of a 3-part chant, opting instead for a model of AAAR1 / BBBR2 (wherein R1 is Refrain 1 and R2 is Refrain 2).
The meter of “Splash Waterfalls” (something one wouldn’t usually bother to make note of as regards the average rap song) is carefully measured in nearly every line of the song. This isn’t an example of someone trying to fit in as many words as he can before the 3-minute mark; Ludacris hits just about every line in a steadily accent-stressed meter of 6 beats:
You / bout / to / buy / a / ring,
she / needs / the / finer / things
Gu- / -cci / de-/ -sign- / -er / frames - say it
(make love to me)
With the express purpose of putting a fine point on the matter: if rap ever wanted to make a case for itself as poetry, here is the new textbook standard.
You’ve been patient, reader, and for that you are to be commended. I know you’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, so here it is. The sad - aye, one might even say poetic - part of this dynamic gem of artistry is that:
a) it clearly owes more to rap as culture and form than it does to poetry as culture and form, so poets can’t go chalking this one up on their belts with any grand authority. Poets better brush up on their MC skills - or at least their rap history - if they want a piece of this clout, and even then it probably isn’t enough to make them any cooler.
And, for kicks and the mild among us, it’s also sad that:
b) it’s derogatory as hell (which is less my point, but not entirely un-noteworthy). How many places can you make the stunning case for this song that won’t run you out of the classroom because of its sexual content?
Rappers are pushing poetry values and structures in the mainstream with more authority than poets. Back to the drawing board, bards.