A wannabe pop star asked me to write lyrics for his group. "Sure," I said. "What style would you like? Asian? Western?"
Well, that's the issue, he said. He wanted to have a hit that people would sing along to, all over the world.
So I called a DJ friend for advice. He said one of the top-selling international records of the year was the latest disc from The Prodigy, a British group. I surfed to a lyrics website called www. 365.com and looked up the lyrics. The new song was called Invaders Must Die.
The first verse was: "Invaders must die; Invaders must die; Invaders must die;" (and so on). Then there's an instrumental break followed by the second verse: "Invaders must die; Invaders must die; Invaders must die;" (and so on). You get the picture.
The guy who transcribed the lyrics was unconfident that he had got them exactly right, and added a disclaimer: "If you find some error in the Invaders Must Die lyrics, would you please submit your corrections to me? Thank you." It seems to me that it would take extraordinary talent to get those lyrics wrong.
He also set up an online discussion area so that people could discuss the nuances of the lyrics. Despite this song being a mega-hit, the discussion board was blank. I wonder why.
I called the deejay back. "The lyrics are kind of, well, strange," I said. "They lack of romance."
He grunted in agreement. "Modern Western pop lyrics are like that: all weirdness and hostility."
I decided that South Asian pop songs might be a better model, and asked a friend in India to send me a typical modern hit. He sent me a Bollywood song sung by a buxom actress named Sadhana Sargam. "When I speak, everyone's health flip-flops. When I dance, my blouse tightens around my heart. No one listens, no one knows what all I have hidden in my blouse."
I asked him why so many Indian songs were about blouses. He replied: "Indians find the word *blouse' so sexy that when they hear it, they lose control of themselves and fall to the ground, frothing from the mouth and other parts."
I just couldn't see a song about blouses exciting Westerners, so I turned to East Asian music. Although this comes in many varieties (Cantopop, J-Pop, Korean pop, Mandopop, and so on), 99.99 percent of them are love songs so sugary they can give you Type 2 Diabetes at 200 meters.
They usually managed to be strangely worded yet bland at the same time. Here's an example.
A pop fan gave me Daffodil by Cyndi Wang.
"Fabled Prince. Frog. Where are you? I'm by the pool waiting day by day. Wait for that day, kiss his face and bring about with the sound of a rumble."
Eleanor Rigby it wasn't.
I called the guy who had given me the assignment. "Writing an international hit isn't easy," I told him.
After a discussion, he suggested that I make it a love song in a rap or hiphop style: "Asians like love songs, and Westerners like rap."
So I asked my DJ contact for a hiphop love song. He gave me My Humps by the Black-Eyed Peas. I looked up the lyrics: "My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps."
Okay, I give up. Maybe I am old fashioned. But that definitely lacks romance. I'd rather write about blouses.
The writer is a columnist and journalist.
