The Parable of the Composer and the Lyricist

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, remembering George Gershwin on his birthday, do you think he’ll be remembered best for his show tunes or his orchestral pieces?  Does it matter, and would it matter to him?”

Josh spoke thus:

A composer and a lyricist were analyzing a number of newly constructed pieces.

“They’ve got to be jazzy,” the composer said.

“They’ve got to be romantic,” the lyricist said.

“They’ve got to be modern,” the composer said.

“They’ve got to be witty,” the lyricist said.

“This feels like when we were young, doesn’t it?” the composer said, “Remember those days?”

“Our Tin Pan Alley days, you mean?” the lyricist said, “When we cranked out how many songs a week, for almost no money?”

“Songs a week?” the composer said, “Don’t you mean, songs a day?”

The composer and the lyricist laughed, pleased by how nostalgia varnished poverty, hunger and overwork with the sepia of adventure.

“What would you say was our breakthrough?” the composer asked the lyricist, “Our first hit song or our first hit show?”

“The show, easily,” the lyricist said.

“The song put food on the table,” the composer said, “It would have been hard to do the show without food on the table.”

“The show made our name,” the lyricist said.

“I think you liked the show because your lyrics were so good,” the composer said, “The song was just a simple love song, but the show let you flex your lyrical muscles.”

“Everyone liked that melody in that song, that’s for sure,” the lyricist said, “It was catchy as hell.”

“The lyrics were catchy too,” the composer said, “Everybody was singing them.  Someone ended up using them to sell soap, didn’t they?”

“Advertising people were always stealing my ideas,” the lyricist said.

“They stole my tunes, too!” the composer said.

“We were jazzy,” the composer said.

“We were romantic,” the lyricist said.

“We were modern,” the composer said.

“We were witty,” the lyricist said.

“But this group,” the composer said, pointing to the television, “They’re something else.”

“How do you make clothes jazzy?” the lyricist asked.

“It’s easy to make clothes romantic,” the composer said.

“It’s hard to define what’s modern,” the lyricist said.

“And wit is hardest of all, in fashion,” the composer said.

“I love reality shows,” the lyricist said.

“We should write a show about a reality show,” the composer said.

“The songs would write themselves,” the lyricist said.

“Oh I hope not,” the composer said, “I’d hate not to have some part in them!”