“I was sixteen my first time. The lady was much older, she was a big lady. [turns to audience] I was taken advantage of.” A sentecne that ended with an audience erupting in laughter.
This happened right before my very first eyes last night, as I watched Rod Stewart introduce his biggest and most misunderstood hit Maggie May. I'm in shock at what happened, yet not surprised.
There’s a line in Hey, Ya! by Outkast, “Ya’ll dont want to hear me, you just want to dance.” It’s always been an interesting concept to me, how often people disregard lyrical content in favor of an up tempo beat. It seems as though anything can be said and not a single person will notice as long as the melody is catchy and the beat is fast and quick. What that’s about I’m not quite sure, but I would like to delve into my favourite examples of this phenomenon in rock.
Maggie May By Rod Stewart
Let’s go back to Maggie May first.
Maggie May was a few songs into the setlist of his show, he had already quipped quite a bit, promoted his whiskey, etc. He had told a longer story before Maggie May, quipping the whole way through [“yeah it didn’t last long, but I have 8 kids now so I clearly got better.”] but it was when he looked and somberly said he was taken advantage of, for one of the few times not mincing his words, to be met with laughter was shocking to see.
When Rod recounts the story of Maggie May, he’s started a habit of understating and pushing it away. It was years before he even hinted at the song being autobiographical, himself once being assaulted as a minor by an older woman. It was decades where he’d play it down, calling it “having sex” instead of admitting it wasn’t consensual. The lyrics of Maggie May speak volumes, though no one hears the words. You don’t want to hear me, you just want to dance.
All I needed was a friend to lend a guiding hand
But you turned into a lover, and mother, what a lover, you wore me out
All you did was wreck my bed, and in the morning kick me in the head
Oh, Maggie, I couldn't have tried any more.
I will also note that the stage design during the song seemed almost as if he knew people would think he was joking. A sampling of the lyrics flashed on screen, in the biggest font is that of:
“YOU STOLE MY SOUL AND THAT'S A PAIN I CAN DO WITHOUT.”
He repeated this line almost four times.
I noticed his handwritten lyrics in the background as part of the stage as well. In the second verse we find the lineYou led me away from home / Just to save you from being alone but in his handwritten lyrics his word choice was “lured.” You lured me away from home / Just to save you from being alone. Reminder once more that the letters were the biggest they possibly could be. He told his story again and people were busy dancing around the subject, as they always have.
It’ll always be a shock that people can downplay a man’s abuse. Rod has finally stopped mincing his words and dancing around the subject, and no one treated that with the respect it deserved.
I’ve written much more on the topic (check here), and plan to write even more about this song, it's history, and the cultural implications it's fame holds at a later date, but it will never not shock me how badly this songs message has been misconstrued because it has catchy instrumental and melody.
It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll (But I Like It) by The Rolling Stones
It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll is one of the stupidest songs in The Stones catalog at first glance, the title either seen as horrifically cringey or terribly childish. The song barely even features The Rolling Stones: this track was originally a collaboration between Mick Jagger and then-Face Ron Wood with a plethora of famous names in the background, even one take featuring David Bowie. Faces were the band on the track, before the rest of the Stones would overdub what their demo. The history is unusually layer for a piece that, at first glance, is less than remarkable.
Past the heavy handed name and large list of famous names tied to its conception, the lyrics paint a very bleary picture of fame, fan culture, and dehumanization of artists. The opening line of the song, If I could stick a pen in my heart / And spill it all over the stage / Would it satisfy you? Would it slide on by you? / Would you think this boy is strange? is almost self aware, begging the question: would anyone listen if a Stone bared his soul? Would anyone piece it together as genuine? If they were genuine would it still lead to success? Would they be viewed as lesser for showcasing emotions as the viewed ‘Bad Boys’ of Rock ‘n’ Roll? Keith Richards had written both Ruby Tuesday and She’s A Rainbow in 1967 about his love life, bearing both his love and heartbreak for the world to see like an open wound, but that was in 1967. In 1974, Keith is a bad boy to the public, even if this image was fueled by media for no good reason other than he really wasn't going to fight back at all. If this Keith Richards, the one the media loved to use as their rockstar punching bag and dehuminize whenever they saw fit, were to release a song about his deepest emotions, would anyone truly see him as anything more than they already did? Would they now just clock him as the senstive junkie punching bag? Would they think the boy is strange for trying to wear his heart on his sleeve? The questions are all unanswered but it's not difficult to figure out what they might be.
If I could win you / If I could you a love song so divine / Would it be enough for your cheatin’ heart / If I broke down and cried? is followed by the song's infamous chorus, a chant of repeated “I know it’s only rock ‘n’ roll but I like it”. The song is playing on the chorus, and also rock and roll’s history. Rock and roll was created from the blues, an overwhelming sadness is what should overtake most songs trying to market themselves as blues numbers, aka the common rock and roll song. The Rolling Stones know this, they had, after all, started as a blues cover band, and their initial fame was in huge part to these covers. They moved away from this meaning, they slowly became the blueprint of what rock and roll stars were supposed to do, say, dress, act, sound like, but never lost touch with that inner need to sing the blues. Each album has at least a blues cover or a Jagger/Richards composition that mocks up a blues piece. It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll is crafted from that idea, that broken hearts, cheating, suicide, death, pain, ignorance, and dissatisfaction are rock and roll, not any of the other bullshit being labeled as so.
If I could stick a knife in my heart / Suicide right on stage / Would it be enough for your teenage lust?
Dissatisfaction is nothing new to music, as the time of this songs release was the beginning of an era where if you weren’t consistent, quick, or living up to former glory you were to be booted for the next big thing, the next you. This line is rather dark even if it would be in reference to nothing the group does being good enough to live up to what teenagers think of them, a graphic depiction of the media machine chewing up anybody and spitting them out if they aren’t strong enough to prevail. Pete Townshend spoke to this:
“Look at my life! Look at my generation! How did that work? Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Keith Moon, the list is fucking endless! They’re dead. My life is full of dead people. My friends are dead. My friends! They may be your fucking icons but they’re my fucking friends! They’re dead…”
The music generation inhabited by The Stones was living and dying by the lifestyle their music was breeding, a revelation immortalized in these lines. Would they be willing to kill themselves in the name of rock and roll rebellion? Is that what would be expected?
It’s Only Rock and Roll is loved for its catchy chorus that seemingly connects to anyone who adores the work of the band, yet its verses about the reality inhabited by the band - one where they could not feel, live, die, hurt, or love - was their self-made purgatory. Whilst they started for a love of rock and roll, they were now to find themselves with a double barrel to look down, one that beggeed how important all this really was.
Born in the U.S.A. by Bruce Springsteen
Speaking of catchy choruses and ignored verses, there’s no better place to start than Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 smash hit Born in the U.S.A.
Born down in a deadman’s down / The first hit I took is when I hit the ground / End up like a dog that’s been beat too much / Til you spend half your life just to cover it up is the opening of the song, and immediately followed by the iconic ‘Born in the U.S.A.’ chants. Springsteen, as per usual, is pulling no punch when it comes to his words. He isn’t exactly congratulating his upbringing. It’s coming more like someone who has faced repercussions leveled towards anyone born in a rundown town in any rural area of any state, a person who sees the punches coming and keeps taking them as that’s what it means to be born in the U.S.A. at this time.
The next verse translates more to the songs’ ideas around the Vietnam War. The war had ended roughly ten years before the release of this song, though the repercussions of said war were still heavily felt amongst those who had any part in living through it. Got in a little hometown jam / So they put a rifle in my hands is not a line delivered with or written in any positive way, it’s a critique of the treatment teenagers faced under the guise of patriotism. Instead of any “normal” repercussions for a minor incident, young men were forced overseas and expected to die and kill for a country who put them in a dangerous and foreign place all just to “teach them a lesson”. What often happens when this song comes on is people hear the screams of ‘Born in the U.S.A.’ that cut through after each description of trauma and horror leveled against disadvantaged Americans and run with it. Instead of connecting Springsteen's screams to being that of one loaded with anger about the pain and suffering the United States has thrust upon innocent children, they see it as Springsteen being proud of the same country he nearly loses breath criticizing. It’s almost horrifying to see people sit and listen to the verses, listen and never hear them, only to proudly sing along to Springsteens’ sarcasm without a sense of irony.
Springsteen does performances of the song where he slows it down, plays the piece acoustically. He hangs on the words, his critiques are loud, clear, inescapable. His sarcasm laced chorus doesn’t get lost those times, as there you can hear every word that leads up to it, and understand just where he was coming from. You can understand the pain of a man who watched these things happen to those he knows, a man who knows that the only crime they ever really comitted to succub to their fates was simply being born in the U.S.A.
Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival
In another infamous bout of false patriotism, John Fogertys’ attack on the classism perpetrated by the United States and its relation to wars is a song often falsely marked as Fogerty being one of the most patriotic men of 1969. The CCR classic clocks in at just under 2 ½ minutes, a painfully catchy chorus of It ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son being misconstrued as him saying being American is being a fortunate son, not him explaining exactly who he isn’t due to his wealth status. If someone doesn’t understand the chorus, you think they’d at least acknowledge the cold open of the song being Some folks are made to wave the flag / Lord, they’re red, white, and blue / But it ain’t me, though you would once again be mistaken. Bruce Springsteen has long championed Fogerty as one of his heroes, even going as far to call him a “shaggy haired prophet”, so it’s almost poetic both of their songs built to criticize the government, with a focus on the Vietnam War, written with an intent to piss off the more right-leaning and conservative parties in their respected decades of release would be so painful misconstrued. Springsteen’s song was even used during Ronald Reagan’s 1985 re-election campaign, a choice Springsteen’s comment towards would be a simple “listen to the lyrics”.
In the second verse of Fortune Son, Fogerty penned Some folks are born silver spoon in hand / Lord, don’t they help themselves / But when the taxman come to the door / Lord, the house lookin’ like a rummage sale which further pushed his narrative about the classism perpetrated throughout those who were the fortunate ones. A lot of this song is about drafting, in 1969 the drafting fiasco was heating up to the point that 16 and 17 year olds were being ripped from school grounds and facing one of two fates: death or being mentally scarred for the rest of their lives. Drafting, oftentimes, affected those who were less wealthy, as most well off people could buy their way out of this fate. Fogerty used this song to critique the people that the government was protecting and rally for the people that didn’t have the voice he knew he possessed. CCR was so big at this point they were on par with and ultimately rivaling The Beatles success - playing Woodstock, releasing two chart topping albums a year, etc. If anyone had a platform to speak out against the American government at this time, it was John Cameron Fogerty. Willy and the Poor Boys, the album in which Fortunate Son hails from, would go on to become one of their three top three albums of the year, and which included two of their seven charting singles.
John Fogerty knew the influence he possessed at the time of recording. He knew he was one of the leading men of popular music, a singular force in the success of one of the world’s biggest bands, someone who was closer to the Golden God of American music than any other person was getting. He used this position at the top to call attention to the issues he saw plaguing the country, taking a stand against those who would later misconstrue his work. Even if a song like Fortunate Son isn’t always seen as what it should be, one thing that is that Fogerty, despite having to worry about losing his streak as the king of rock, still chose to use his music and the platform it gave him to speak against injustice plaguing America at the time. In doing this, he showcased something it seems is missing in most musical stars today: the drive to do what’s right even if it risks your career. Instead of a career being on his mind, John Fogerty was thinking about how far the class divide was showing itself, and it’s effect on the youth of America.
Help! By The Beatles
John Lennon had gone on record to say when he wrote Help! it was actually a cry for help that was sped up, and marketed as a trademark “silly” Beatles song, and the story checks out pretty damn well when you look towards the lyrics and marketing around this specific song.
The lyrics are naturally blunt, being written by John Lennon:
I need somebody / Not just anybody / You know, I need someone / Help / When I was so much younger than today / I never needed anybody’s help in anyway / But now these days are gone / I’m not so self assured / Now I find I changed my mind and opened up the door
The opening verse is actually the least upsetting of the two, but still features a stark contrast from the music behind them. The lyrics introduce Lennon’s apprehension towards admitting that the sudden rise in fame and Beatlemania in general had a negative affect on him even if it was a largely positive thing. It could be understood why he was asked to speed the piece up a bit, as marketing a apprehensive and cynical, depressed John Lennon would be significantly harder than just keeping him in his prepackaged image [the smart, sarcastic Beatle, another smiling face on a four headed dragon]. The second chorus feeds more into these ideas, leading itself to be a difficult listen:
In oh so many ways / My independence seems to vanish in the haze / But every now and then I feel so insecure / I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before
These lines help understand height-of-Beatlemania John like very few other things really could. In some ways, the fame was hardest on him, as he was hiding the most from the public. He wasn’t allowed to acknowledge his marriage in fear it would ruin the band’s marketability to young girls, he was consistently written off as abrasive and rude without an understanding of his background, and his band, the one that he had been working on since almost ten years prior, had just hit it so big his heroes were being pushed so far to the wayside that their fans would call them “dead”. It had to be a difficult undertaking, all things considered. He was the Beatle with the most at change inflicted upon him, the one whose one dimensional character trait was the the hardest to get around. Laying it all out, yes John was the “smart” one, he was the creator of what would become the world’s biggest band, their resident poet, and was a published author by 1964 but to many all he was was "smart". He was never labelled as booksmart, streetsmart, musically smart, nothing. Just smart. Paul was pretty, he could act to that, George was quiet and could act to that as Ringo could act to being funny. Everyone else had the easy images, it was John stuck with the hardest one to get around, whilst being the bands talking piece a majority of the time. He couldn’t be too witty, that would look bad, but he also couldn’t be too dull or that would ruin his marketing. He was in a constant state of acting almost, where John really was during those times is impossible to figure. In any world, of course he would write a song like this at that time. I mean, what else could he do but ask in his preferred method for the help he needed?
The chorus plays into the sadness that surrounds the verses:
Help me if you can, I’m feeling down / And I do appreciate you being ‘round / Help me get my feet back on the ground / Won’t you please, please help me?
After one real listen to the lyrics or reading of John’s perspective on its tempo change it becomes hard to enjoy it how it’s expected to be enjoyed. It becomes plagued with a certain palpable sadness, and it leads to thinking about the issues of marketing real people, what exactly The Beatles were put through in order to become The Beatles we know. Was another hit single worth it to ignore a man’s plea for help?
I think a lot of these songs ask that question: is a catchy chord progression worth ignoring the words spoken? Music is often used as an outlet for these people, these people who chose to pen their pain and bear those scars for the world to see and unless people want to listen they won’t. There comes a time where looking at a lot of the most popular songs in rock you see that they were almost desperate pleas for help. These songs focus on that specifically, the songs that showcase someone pleading for help and not being heard. Listened too, loved, but heard... not quite.
Rod Stewart has sang the line You stole my soul and that’s a pain I can do without probably a thousand times since he originally wrote it in 1971, and yet people still think it’s in a song about love. John Lennon blatantly stated that he’s lost his ability to be a human being and people still just think he’s singing another silly Beatles song. Mick Jagger talked about how no one would listen if he tried to bare his soul to the world, how his translation of pain into his music and art would never be enough to those who listened to him, which is exactly what happened because of a catchy chorus.
No one wants to hear, they just want to dance.
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