As my annual summer holiday approaches, silly season is upon us in the UK media. Towards the end of last week we were treated to a list of the most misheard song lyrics. Judging by the number of comments left on the article itself, we mishear things all the time, even though quite how anyone could mishear the actual song title of the Eurythmics hit Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of Cheese) or kd lang's biggest hit, Can't Stand Gravy, is particularly amusing, since neither of these great songs has ever caused me any problems. I suggest that in the next survey of this kind, the results be split into separate categories, lest we forget all the other food-related examples. Who could forget Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths, as Morrissey sang "Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said I'd like to mash a beetroot in your head"? Never mind individual items, ABBA went one better in the food stakes by name-checking the whole shop in Super Trouper: "I was sick and tired of everything when I called you last night from Tesco".
There may be a case for compiling a list of misheard lyrics involving animals too, with Irish band The Saw Doctors topping the list with their great track Two Injured Swans. Then, of course, there are all the names of people in songs – people who we never hear of again. "I can see clearly now Lorraine has gone." Johnny Nash's day was brighter, he was happy ... and we were happy for him, though he never told us who this lady was, or how her absence helped. Similarly, it was a friend who alerted me to the mysterious "Lionel", the subject of David Soul's impassioned plea at the end of every chorus of his 1976 million-seller Don't Give Up On Us. I'm sure you have your own examples from hits both old and new!
Some years ago, I discovered that our French neighbours even have a word for this phenomenon of misheard lyrics: yaourt (yoghurt), where the verb to yoghurt describes the act of singing phonetically similar, yet nonsensical versions of popular song lyrics. However, I would probably draw a distinction between non-native speakers of English enthusiastically misinterpreting their favourite anglophone tracks as they find their way through the minefield that is connected speech in English and us native English speakers seemingly content to sing incoherent drivel – sometimes for many years – with no such excuse! Bring back Smash Hits magazine and its songwords, I say!
Have a great summer, everyone! But if you are planning on having your stereo blasting from your car with the windows down as you sing along, do us all a favour and get the lyrics right!
Monday 15 July 2013
Saturday 6 July 2013
Much ado about nothing?
Along with other commentators such as popular etymologist Mark Forsyth, I've been amused this week by reports of eyebrow-raising over the German language's inclusion of the English neologism der Sh**storm in its somewhat sacred Duden dictionary. Here in Switzerland, the term was also voted Word of the Year in 2012. The term denotes uncontrollable public outrage, usually online in the context of social media posts – and often insulting in its content. As I have mentioned in previous posts, neologisms interest me, since their ability to gain currency demonstrates a social need to construct a new term for a new concept. As such, they show that a language is healthy and can adapt to the culture it expresses.
But just in case we are at a loss to understand the kind of public outrage that might warrant use of the term, the torrent of excrement gushing forth in the wake of the plagiarism row engulfing Germany's erstwhile defence secretary Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg, and then more recently, use of the term in a speech by German prime minister Angela Merkel are cited as examples. An interesting piece in The Guardian seems to highlight German's preference for swearwords with faecal rather than sexual origins, though quite how or why the term has managed to float to the top of public consciousness and usage is not really examined. Predictably, there is no shortage of verbal diarrhoea in the comments sections attached to these articles.
In this particular case, I think we are once again witnessing the Internet-driven obsession with quantifying and describing everything anew. We clearly need to find new ways to feel anger and to display it, now that previous profanities and practices so obviously date from a time when media outlets defined outrage. These days, I increasingly find that the same outlets are now more than happy to solicit public commentary, stir gently and watch events unfold. But surely this is journalistic laziness masquerading as legitimacy.
I had never heard of the term until I read it in a Swiss newspaper a few weeks ago. I do not believe it is used widely in English. As such, any attempts to cite the word as further evidence of an English assault on the German language are misplaced. Other popular pseudo-anglicisms – das Handy (a mobile phone), der Showmaster (the host of a TV show), der Beamer (a projector) among others – are then used wrongly by German speakers, who believe the term to be an English loan word. In my own experience abroad, I have occasionally used one of the above words as a kind of shorthand to aid another person's understanding. However, I then always point out that the word is a purely German invention. I believe the same is true of this latest addition to the language.
But just in case we are at a loss to understand the kind of public outrage that might warrant use of the term, the torrent of excrement gushing forth in the wake of the plagiarism row engulfing Germany's erstwhile defence secretary Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg, and then more recently, use of the term in a speech by German prime minister Angela Merkel are cited as examples. An interesting piece in The Guardian seems to highlight German's preference for swearwords with faecal rather than sexual origins, though quite how or why the term has managed to float to the top of public consciousness and usage is not really examined. Predictably, there is no shortage of verbal diarrhoea in the comments sections attached to these articles.
In this particular case, I think we are once again witnessing the Internet-driven obsession with quantifying and describing everything anew. We clearly need to find new ways to feel anger and to display it, now that previous profanities and practices so obviously date from a time when media outlets defined outrage. These days, I increasingly find that the same outlets are now more than happy to solicit public commentary, stir gently and watch events unfold. But surely this is journalistic laziness masquerading as legitimacy.
I had never heard of the term until I read it in a Swiss newspaper a few weeks ago. I do not believe it is used widely in English. As such, any attempts to cite the word as further evidence of an English assault on the German language are misplaced. Other popular pseudo-anglicisms – das Handy (a mobile phone), der Showmaster (the host of a TV show), der Beamer (a projector) among others – are then used wrongly by German speakers, who believe the term to be an English loan word. In my own experience abroad, I have occasionally used one of the above words as a kind of shorthand to aid another person's understanding. However, I then always point out that the word is a purely German invention. I believe the same is true of this latest addition to the language.
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