The Choice to Forget About The “Words”

Dan Camaj
Linguistic Architecture
3 min readMar 27, 2022

You don’t normally think of the narrative elements within music. We can listen to songs as white noise to fall asleep with, we can listen to songs while doing work, we can even listen to songs of languages we don’t understand just for the beat. Because of its flow, rhythm, and sound makeup, there’s an interesting aspect to music that you don’t see in other narrative works (poetic forms included): the choice to forget about the words. With music, you can turn your mind off and just feel the vibrations or put on your academic glasses to (over)analyze every little word like we do with other poetic forms. We can specifically take a look at hip-hop and rap to explain why we’re able to do this.

Photo by Eric Nopanen on Unsplash

In Hip-Hop Rhyme Formations: Open Your Ears, Tracie Morris states “Some folks don’t understand hip-hop because they don’t know how to listen” (223). Morris believes that hip-hop hasn’t been given the same prestige or academic standing as other poetic forms have been granted. Yes, this is in part because people don’t know how to analyze the techniques, but if you think more into it, the techniques the form uses cleverly disguises the narrative that would make the piece “analyzable.” Morris continues to describe the techniques in question, “The two main principles to keep in mind when listening to hip-hop are the patterns and intricacies of rhyme and what is called flow, the way the words fit with the music or beat” (223). The use of beats, flow, rhyme, etc. brings the art to life to the point where one could just bask in nothing but the sound itself.

To see this in action try listening to any song in two ways: first focus on the intricacies of the sound itself, then re-listen, focusing on the lyrics (maybe even go so far as to read them without listening to the sound). To express this, I’ve chosen to use J. Cole’s “Snow On Tha Bluff.”

Looking at the sound alone, J. Cole uses a soft beat with little bass focusing on strings, piano, and some sort of horn to create the base for his lyricism. You can hear chilling “yeah” vocals echoing in the background like woodwind instruments along with soft incomprehensible lyrics. When he comes in with his rap, you’re pulled into a mellow and calming flow. It has an interesting rhyme scheme and structure. Even if this song was written in a different language, the flow would still pull you into the overall vibe the song elicits. The songs outro switches J. Cole’s rap into an R&B-like singing voice where he brings back the “incomprehensible” background vocals from the beginning into clarity alongside a stronger version of the strings played throughout the song.

If we read the lyrics themselves, we see J. Cole sort of “rant” about “woke culture” through the use of an unnamed woman. He explains how this woman is angry with celebrities for not speaking out on racial injustices and he assumes that she is indirectly referring to him. This spins him off to comment on the “hypocrisies” of online social justice which comes full circle when he asks himself if she may be right: is he truly doing enough for his community?

These pieces on their own (the sound and the story) distinctly create two works of art that come together to create a larger work that encompasses the beauty of both parts. This ultimately shows the many ways one can interpret hip-hop. The fact that you can choose to forget about the lyrics and just feel the vibe, make music as a poetic form one of the most powerful ones.

Cole, Jermaine Lamarr (J). “Snow On Tha Bluff,” Dreamville Records. 2020. Retreived from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZa3HyVLimQ

Morris, Tracie. “Hip-Hop Rhyme Formations: Open Your Ears.” An Exaltation of Forms: Contemporary Poets Celebrate the Diversity of Their Art. Edited by Annie Finch and Kathrine Varnes, U of Michigan P, 2016, p. 223–227.

--

--