QUENTIN: Recently, I had the chance to sit down in Oxford, MS in a quaint bistro with Rick Hynum, who is either 1/2 or 1/3 of The Lapse, depending on what designation a drum machine has as a band member. There, among several unwitting and uncaring Ole Miss Girls, who were not there because of the Lapse, we had a chance to talk openly about music, recent compositions, and very, very tentative plans for the future. Unfortunately, that get-together is not the same one which occasioned this interview, which is being conducted via email because we are so very, very busy these days.
QUENTIN: I figured that, inasmuch as we won’t have a lot of, uh, give-and-take interviewing each other by e-mail, I’d make it like one of those annoying profiles from American Express or some scotch company, where we’ll have such checklist categories as “most ambitious condiment moment” or “most recent book perused.” But that idea seems equally worthless. So I’ll just begin by asking you about lyrics, as that is one of my sore subjects. Pick any of the following: Do you keep any sort of lyric journal? Who, among the bands and artists you listed as ones you/we admired, do you think of as being among the best lyricists and why? What, to you, makes someone a competent or outstanding lyricist? For example, most would not consider Steve Miller a great lyricist, but we can sing along with practically every hit song of his – so is “catchy” good or part of being good, or what?
RICK: I don’t keep a lyrics journal; that would require self-discipline on my part. I have zero self-discipline. My philosophy is, screw self-discipline. That philosophy has gotten me far in life.
At any rate, what makes a competent or outstanding lyricist probably depends on what the listener himself/herself relates to. As a music LISTENER, I like lyrics that, to some extent, reflect my own experience or emotions or desires, good or bad, happy or sad, and I THINK that MOST (not all) people would agree. Granted, every individual’s experiences, emotions and desires are (or seem) somewhat unique to that individual, but certain universal themes are shared by all. And, although I don’t make a conscious effort to tap into those universal themes, I can’t seem to help myself. So, if someone DOES like a set of lyrics, it’s probably because the lyrics somehow make sense in the context of that person’s own life.
A lot depends on the listener’s individual interpretation of the lyrics. Most people think of “Every Breath You Take” as a love song. But Sting said it was a song about obsession, and the ugliest kind of obsession: as in stalker obsession. But what’s wrong with thinking of it as a love song? Nothing, that’s what. Once a song is sung or a painting is painted or a novel is published, in a very important sense it belongs to everyone who ever hears or sees or reads it. To me, “The Long and Winding Road” is about longing for God. To most people (and probably to McCartney himself), it’s a love song. But I prefer to think of it as a song about longing for God. And, by gum, that’s my right.
Possibly the greatest living lyricist is Paul Simon. The man is a genius. Take “Call Me Al,” for example: “He ducked back down the alley with some roly-poly little bat-faced girl.” Oh, man, that’s incredible. Every single word in “Slip-Slidin’ Away” rings beautifully true. “St. Judy’s Comet?” Gorgeous stuff, very evocative. I don’t think anyone does it better.
QUENTIN: When we used to ask our erstwhile bandmate and eponymous silent partner, David “Lap” Smith, what his latest song was about, he would quip, defensively: “God, oh, and drunk driving.” Actually this was true about some of his songs. Do you write lyrics from ideas? Do they ever suggest themselves from the “sound” of the music? Does your process for lyric writing differ if you are writing for one of your compositions or one of mine?
RICK: Oddly enough, the sound of the words themselves matters to me. Certain vowel sounds, for example, are pleasing to the ear (my ear, at least), but it’s not always easy to write meaningful lyrics using those vowel sounds AND make them fit within the confines of a certain melody AND set them to the rhythm of the song. But it’s a fun challenge. “Gonna Make You Mine” is my personal favorite because I think I pulled off that little trick (at least in the first two verses) – lots of long i vowel sounds, which, to me, is a happy sound ; hence, all the i rhymes: smile, style, moonlight ride, Sweet Caroline, John Prine, wine, time, skies, etc.
I seldom start out with a lyrical idea and say, “Hmm, I think I’ll write about two teenage lovebirds in a Holiness church” (as in “The Holy Happening,” which has not been released yet to the general public). A line comes to me here, a line there, and then I start trying to bring it all together in a way that makes sense, without resorting to cliches if at all possible. And if a line sounds or feels phony, it may make it into a working version of the song, but it usually gets tossed by the final version.
In short, the embarrassing truth is, I make it all up as I go along. Some lyrics write themselves in an hour or two, others take days or weeks. As you know, it took me almost 10 years to write the lyrics for “Aftermath of a Summer Rain.” They still aren’t all that great, either.
QUENTIN: You are now off the hot seat about lyrics. One of the songs currently on our playlist is “Gonna Make You Mine” which is a song we collaborated on (you lyrically and vocally). I absolutely love this song, but no one ever comments about this song to me, favorably or unfavorably. Maybe no one has heard it (I did think of that) or gives a rat’s arse. Do you think it’s execution? What are a couple of songs you can think of (yours, mine, ours) that “could be good” if they were just executed better?
RICK: Well, first of all, to this day, I don’t know whether YOU like my lyrics for that song. Your answer is always the same: “I had to get used to them.” Regardless, the illustrious Moonpie Curtis and Dianna Seddon have both recently said “Gonna Make You Mine” is their new favorite (without any prompting from me, I might add). I believe your sister Beth likes it a lot, too.
I have come to grips with the sad truth that, aside from the above-mentioned folks, very few people, including close friends and family members, ever listen to our songs more than once or twice. They listen to our CD a couple of times, they say, “Well, thats nice,” then pop it out and pop in 50 Cent or James Blunt and never listen to us again. You and I both know it usually takes repeated listens to fully appreciate any given song.
A lot of it probably has to do with the quality of the recording itself; we don’t have the advantages of studio production. Wer’e doing it ourselves, and you can tell. Plus, we write in a vacuum, and we don’t have anyone else nudging us in this or that direction which can be a positive (it keeps our music, ahem, pure, untainted by outside influences) or a negative (we don’t get input or assistance or perspectives from other, more experienced musicians).
I think that “Gonna Make You Mine,” recorded professionally in a studio, would be an amazing song. It’d be even better if we could find someone else to sing it instead of me. “How Bad Can It Be” is already perfect. I wish I could sing “Come On, Make It Right” a little better, or get a better mix on the vocals. And, I don’t care what YOU say, I still can’t stand my vocals on “Man of the Hour.” Plus, I think the drum sound on that song needs some work.
All in all, I’d like a better drum sound on a lot of our songs. “Gonna Make You Mine” has the best drum sound of all our stuff. I wish every song could have that drum sound.
QUENTIN: Do you think the Beatles will ever get back together?
RICK: Well, if you believe in forever, then life is just a one-night stand. And if there’s a rock-and-roll heaven, well, you know they’ve got a hell of a band.
QUENTIN: Pick a song by someone else that really gets panned, generally, and give me your best shot for giving it a second chance. What’s your sleeper?
RICK: Well, I like a LOT of songs that other people consider cheesy. Nowadays cheesy is the default term for anything that conveys sentiment, whether it’s phony sentiment or genuine sentiment. Any song that can even be vaguely labeled as sentimental is hopelessly uncool today. I would argue that that’s why modern radio stinks to high heaven – because all the sentiment has been drained and replaced with “attitude,” which is much hipper but, like all things hip, ultimately ephemeral.
Granted, there is a ton of genuinely cheesy music out there that makes me cringe, but I have a higher-than-usual tolerance for cheese. I really like, for example, the hopelessly uncool, much-maligned John Denver, particularly “Rocky Mountain High,” which is a great song. He wrote beautiful melodies; his lyrics were hit-or-miss, but I think “Rocky Mountain High” is strong lyrically, too. It’s a cohesive song with lyrics that make sense for the most part, it’s very catchy, it has a great chorus – I’ll defend it to the death.
I am a sucker for a good melody, so I love songs like The Carpenters’ “Weve Only Just Begun” and “Close to You.” Yes, I love them. There, I said it. And I won’t take it back either.
I also like some Neil Diamond (although some of his 60s/70s arrangements were godawful, such as “Sweet Caroline” – what a great chorus that song has, but it’s hard to listen to the entire song all the way through and maintain your dignity) and some Bread and some America. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. OK, well, maybe a LITTLE ashamed…..
QUENTIN: Finally: Have you come out of the closet yet? (Not that there’s anything wrong with being in the closet.)
RICK: Yes, I have. As of this interview, I am now officially out of the closet as a Carpenters fan. Smartass.
