Music Carries Meaning

Music can tell a whole story, and only when necessary does it use words.

To say “music carries meaning” is not a hot take. It’s not a statement that really warrants a counterargument. We’re all pretty well in agreement here. However, I suggest that what we mean when we say “music has meaning” is that music is a vessel through which words and emotions and human experiences are conveyed. It’s the lyrics that hold the meaning. And that is true. However, if that was the only true thing, music would be irrelevant. If the words are the only element of music that holds meaning, why make music at all? Why not write an essay or deliver a speech?

The answer is that the music itself—the notes, harmonies, textures, rhythms, all of it—holds meaning that oftentimes rings truer and deeper than the words themselves. This statement, too, may be common sense. However, it seems to me that whether or not we know this, when we talk about the meaning of a song, 99% of the time we’re talking about its lyrics. But let’s look at a couple of examples where the meaning of the song is very obviously conveyed through the music itself.

I could choose a host of examples to argue this point. But recently, I was reminded of the delightful medley “Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World” performed by Hawaiian singer Israel “Iz” Kamakawiwoʻole. The original songs were, of course, made famous by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz and Louis Armstrong, respectively. But when Iz performs the medley—the result of a middle-of-the-night burst of creativity and spontenaity—he gets all the words wrong.

Instead of “Somewhere over the rainbow / Way up high / There's a land that I heard of / Once in a lullaby,” Iz sings “Somewhere over the rainbow / Way up high / And the dreams that you dream of / Once in a lullaby,” which doesn’t really mean anything at all, does it?

Again, instead of, “The bright blessed day / The dark sacred night / And I think to myself / What a wonderful world,” Iz sings, “And the brightness of day / Highlight the dark / And I think to myself / What a wonderful world,” which isn’t meaningless but still feels a little less certain than the original lyric.

However, none of this matters. Because the meaning of Iz’s medley is felt so strongly in the spirit of the song. The grace of the ukulele, the inexpressible peace expressed in the melody of Iz’s opening “Oohs,” the way his voice absolutely floats above the clouds. The words may say “Trouble melts like lemon drops” a minute and a half into the song, but you’ve already experienced the truth of that lyric in the wordless rhythms, melodies, and harmonies that lift the song in its opening bars. Every facet of Iz’s composition makes an argument—this world is truly a wonder. Embrace its beauty, and everything falls away until all you’re left with is peace, hope, and love.

Another song I was reminded of where the music outdoes the lyricism in conveying the song’s meaning is the Swedish pop group A-ha’s classic hit “Take On Me.” I don’t know if you’ve ever paid attention to the song’s lyrics, but they’re entirely nonsensical. I really don’t know what it means to be “odds and ends” and “stumbling away,” nor the meaning of the third verse’s opening line: “Oh, things that you say / Is it a life or just to play my worries away?” What does it mean?!

But again, none of this matters. One, because it’s the catchiest pop song of the entire 1980s (don’t at me). And two, because lead singer Morten Harket’s take-hold-of-this-moment urgency comes through in the 169 beats per minute pulse of electro-drums. His romantic longing is realized effortlessly in the long, ascending notes of the chorus. The drama and anxiety of losing his chance to be with her (whoever she is) comes through in the disorienting synth line in the instrumental break. And the release of victory is felt in the song’s final repetitions of “I’ll be gone,” where Harket switches from a soft falsetto to belting wholeheartedly, resolved to break into his lover’s world. The whole song conveys this sense of seizing a moment you’ll never get back and finding love. And yeah, they used some words too.

In 2017, A-ha recorded an MTV Unplugged concert. And here, nothing has changed about those words. But the song’s meaning is entirely different. The song is boiled down to a whispering acoustic guitar and piano ballad. The original pop hit’s nervous energy is replaced with years of experience and heartache. All of a sudden a song that was filled with hope and youthful vigor sounds like a letter to a lover on the brink of an ending relationship, whether due to impending mortality or relational brokenness. Harket is trying his best to hold on, trying with every note to will himself to remember the truth—that he loves her, that she has always filled him with life and joy. He’s asking her to hold on to those same thoughts. Honestly, it’s a tear-jerker.

But the one part that remains unchanged between A-ha’s renditions is the song’s ultimate hope. You get the sense as the song fades and Harket whispers “I’ll be gone in a day or two” that things will be OK. Heartbreak doesn’t get the final word, and love is eternal.

Music is magical in this way. It tells a whole story, and only when necessary does it use words.