Religion, Politics & Love: A Revolutionary Music Theory

In the immortal words of my Year 7 music teacher, Mrs Ranchalf, “If you haven’t heard a song before, get out before your mind gets blown to smithereens and I have to hoover it out of this wiry carpet.” That’s right, this article is exclusively targeted to people who have heard at least five or six songs before now, so if that description doesn’t suit you, get this browser window closed, lock your phone or scream until someone can assist you in getting the heck out of dodge.

Right, now those arrhythmic rejects are out of the picture, let’s get down to brass tacks[1] on my new musical theory that is sure to change the way we view (hear?) songwriting for all time. The hypothesis is quite simple; ‘All music is about either religion, politics or love with absolutely no exceptions.’

I’ll give you a moment to mull it over. Maybe you’re straining to think of some songs that don’t follow these conventions, maybe you’re simply marvelling at the innovation I have laid here for you on this historic day. Maybe, just maybe, you aren’t convinced -- “No way, Conjo, there’s got to be at least one track that isn’t about religion, politics or love, there truly must be!” -- Here, let me show you.

You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon

Connie, isn’t this a uniquely personal telling of Simon’s journey through South Africa through the eyes of someone seemingly going through a midlife crisis?

No! ‘You Can Call Me Al’ or ‘The Foreign Aid Song’ as it was originally titled, is in fact a political allegory for the Reagan administration’s continual drive to send aid to paramilitary groups worldwide seeking to overthrow leftist governments. When Simon sings “If you be my bodyguard, I can call you Betty”, he is quite clearly referring to Osama ‘Betty’ Zahir of the Mujahideen who received covert military assistance through the Reagan Doctrine. Try again!

Don’t Stop Movin’ - S Club 7

Doesn’t the simplicity of this early ‘00s pop epitomise the era’s long standing tradition of style over substance? The song is about dancing, surely it’s as straight as that, C-Dog?

Wrong again! Though to the layman ‘Don’t Stop Movin’’ may be a vapid pop hit about a great night boogying on the dancefloor, to a true fan, the true meaning is as plain as day. This song is a modern retelling of an Old Testament verse in which the Lord made an S Club Beat so irresistible that his loyal followers, Abraham and Isaac were unable to stop moving to His funky, funky beat. When the 7-piece from London sang “Listen to the music taking you to places that you've never been before baby now”, the lord is the DJ, elevating his disciples to the kingdom of heaven with His S Club Beat.

Sabotage - Beastie Boys

In the 2018 ‘Beastie Boys Book’, didn’t surviving members Adam Horovitz and Mike Diamond say the song was inspired by producer Mario Caldato Jr. losing his rag over electronics not working in the studio? The band explained the meaning, how could it be anything else, Condor?

You’re absolutely right, guys. Ad Rock and Mike D did say that, but what they didn’t do was mean it. That explanation was written to throw listeners off the embarrassing true meaning of ‘Sabotage’, a love letter from Horovitz to Baywatch’s Stephanie Holden. After discovering Baywatch is in fact a fictional television program and Holden, a character portrayed by Alexandra Paul, Horovitz felt so betrayed and heartbroken, he wrote ‘Sabotage’.  It’s obvious enough in the lyrics “Make no mistakes and switch up my channel, I’m Buddy Rich when I fly off the handle.” he’s switching from NBC before Baywatch begins and his frustrated love for Holden leads him to act irrationally.

All Instrumental Music Throughout History - Various Artists

Is it not the beauty of music without lyrics that we can apply our own interpretations which could range from any number of feelings, memories or subjects? Tell us how could we be wrong when we say instrumental music is the expression of feelings far too profound and nuanced to fit in your three categories, C-Man.

You are wrong once again, dear readers. Instrumental music was invented in 1745 when Arch-Duke of Redbury, William Wreath III was tasked by King George II to create a form of music that could express the grandeur of the growing British Empire and its firm grasp on its colonies. After months of toiling, Wreath perfected what he originally called ‘No-Wordy’ Music, which was later simplified to instrumental as we call it today. With that, all expressionist instrumental music, from Miles Davis to the filler tracks on Daft Punk albums, is deeply rooted in imperialist ideologies and supports the atrocities of the empire where the sun never sets.

The Alphabet Song - Traditional

This nursery rhyme for remembering the letters of the English alphabet is without doubt a lighthearted learning tool for children from the age of 2+. I will not see it any other way, Kojack.

To hear you so close minded is honestly embarrassing. With even the slightest bit of research you would know that the alphabet song is not just referring to the English alphabet of Latin letters, or furthermore, Phonecian letters. No, this song is a useful tool for remembering the 26 primary deities of the Ancient Greek pantheon and their revelry. Each letter represents a god or goddess, for example “Dee” refers to Despoina, the god of mystery in Arcadian cults. “Kay” pays homage to Kydoimos, the god of the din of battle and hubbub. Though the end of the song “Now I know my Ay (Achlys, the mist of death), Bee (Bia, the personification of force), See (Charites, the goddess of charm and grace), won’t you come and play with me” could be interpreted as a summoning chant to bring the gods to the mortal plain, this is contested.

There you have it, undeniable proof to my theory. All music is about religion, politics, or love. There’s no two ways about it. Feel free to attempt a rebuttal to the theory, but do not be surprised when my broader, deeper knowledge of music history trumps your own. Now, don’t go about purposely writing a song that doesn’t convene to this theory because I don’t think you know how much this means to me and if you took it away for the sake of pure malice then I think I’d have a truly hard time bouncing back.

Please.

Footnotes

[1] - How mad is it that the phrase is “Brass tacks” rather than “Brass tax”? I suppose I never put much thought into it before, but I was always under the impression that the taxation of brass metal was a difficult enough subject to be immortalised into common verbiage. It’s just one of those things, I suppose, like how the phrase is “For all intents and purposes” not “For all intensive purposes” like I thought. Maybe you see these in writing so rarely that it can easily pass you by.