In response to this, I submit the following:

First, congratulations on a terrific Tonys telecast. It was fast, bright and funny.

Second, please put the award for Best Original Score back in the middle of the evening, where it belongs.

I believe I know the main arguments against reinstating this award, and I think they’re all inadequate. Here they are:

1. Nobody cares about original showtunes any more. Audiences want songs they already know.

In the last five years, four of the Tonys for Best Musical have gone to the show that also won the Tony for Best Original Score. Four times in five years, and in all those years there were a healthy four nominees for Best Original Score. Do you know how far back you have to go to see that again, four out of five, all in years with four nominees?

1964-1968.

Yes, you have to go back to the end of the musical’s so-called Golden Age, to the seasons that began with Fiddler on the Roof and ended with the arrival of Hair. Granted, there’s been some help from the American Theatre Wing and The Broadway League themselves, nominating Enron and Fences last year for Best Original Score, but you can’t argue that the jukebox musical is the dominant force on Broadway today. I know it’s hard to believe, but we are in the middle of a minor Golden Era for original scores on Broadway, and the Tonys don’t seem to know it.

The success of these doubly-awarded shows indicates that audiences do care about original showtunes, that they want songs they don’t already know, and they want them in award-winning hit musicals. The American Theatre Wing should be trumpeting this news every year, and instead everyone is behaving as if original showtunes are endangered, and too thin on the ground to celebrate.

2. It’s the performances that rate well on Award night. The writers aren’t good TV.

Except that this year, some of the finest moments of the telecast were courtesy of writers of showtunes. An original opening number, by Tony Award-nominated songwriters? A closing number, edited to suit the evening’s events, by a Tony Award-winning songwriter? No other Awards show can make use of this kind of talent, but the talent goes un-named. Here’s what should happen:

Two men approach the podium.

Man 1: Hi. We’re David Javerbaum and Adam Schlesinger.
Man 2: And we wrote that opening number for tonight’s show.

Applause.

Man 1 (David): The nominees for Best Original Score are …

3. There isn’t time.

Yes there is, if songwriters matter to musicals. If there is time to repeat a number from a show that already won last year, and if there is time for a number from a high-profile production that has yet to open, then there is time to award songwriters who have a) not already been awarded and b) wrote shows that have actually opened.

4. The telecast is primarily about attracting tourists, and only secondarily about rewarding talent.

If this cynical view is an accurate one, it is even more important to reinstate the writers – all the writers, whether they write revues, jukebox shows, special events, book, music or lyrics. If they are not celebrated they will move elsewhere, and without their new shows what will the tourists come and see?

5. But there were several songwriters featured in the telecast!

There were, and here’s who they were:

Paul Schaffer
Bono and The Edge
Trey Parker, Matt Stone and Robert Lopez

The message to would-be theatre songwriters is clear: be already famous. Be rock stars or be television-famous. Or be the winners – two of whom are already television-famous.

Here’s a sobering thought: if Cole Porter and Frank Loesser were still alive, they would not have been seen last night, even though their work was featured. Can I be sure of this? Yes, because John Kander, who is still alive, was named but not shown in any way. On a night when the (almost certainly) last Broadway Kander and Ebb score was nominated, John Kander was not shown, but non-nominees Bono and The Edge were.

5. Every award can be seen on the web.

Indeed, and soon a telecast and a webcast will be the same thing. I reckon you’ve got five years – ten, if all the TV networks really drag their feet. Once the two join together into one live-tweeted/blogged/webcasted/TV event, anything that’s not included in the main portion of the evening will be sought out only by completists and buffs willing to search archived videos. In other words, the songwriters will become even more obscure than they already are, and we’ll still only see the winners, rather than all the nominees.

6. So if the whole thing’s going online, who cares where the awards are placed?

It matters because the placement emphasises the award’s importance. The award for Best Musical is right at the end of the night. Clearly, musicals matter to the evening, commercially and artistically. And note that, while they are called musicals, we do not see who writes the scores  unless they win something else later. We see actors, directors and producers. We see presenters with a tenuous connection to the production. But we don’t see most of those who make musicals, well, musical.

The opportunity is here, and it is now. Put the writers back in the centre of the action, a place their efforts have earned. Do it before the whole business moves online. Do it while musical theatre still has the internet’s attention. Don’t demonstrate that the musical theatre is a thriving form that apparently writes itself; instead, demonstrate that the form is thriving, and celebrate the writers who are making it thrive.

7. I suppose you’d also like to see a reinstatement of Best Choreography?

Yes, I would. But first things first.

Regards,

Peter J. Casey
A writer of showtunes

But yesterday I procrastinated at work by playing a game with myself called #snaredrum80s. Not much to it: describe, as precisely as you can, the sound of a snare drum in an ’80s recording. Here are the results:

Violent Femmes, "Blister in the Sun": a champagne flute inside a paper bag being stomped #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

New Order, "Blue Monday": a punch landing on a goon's jaw in a 1970s Hong Kong martial arts film #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Bruce Springsteen, "Born in the USA": a large handgun going off in a tiled shower stall #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Tom Petty, "Don't Come Around Here No More": a pumpkin landing in a foil-lined bucket #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

A-Ha, "Take On Me": a small, stuffed packing case being hit with a cricket bat #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Ultravox, "Vienna": the sudden, smothered sneeze of a repressed woman #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Def Leppard, "Pour Some Sugar On Me": An 8 ft helium balloon popping inside a church. #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Fine Young Cannibals, "She Drives Me Crazy": Two light bulbs smacking into each other #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Michael Jackson, "Bad": A wet buttock slapped in an underground carpark #snaredrum80s—
Peter J Casey (@peterjcaseytwit) June 08, 2011

Now I think I’ll drop a pumpkin in a foil-lined bucket and record the results.

Incidentally, tweeting about martial arts got me five new followers, all martial arts bots. We will have so much to talk about!

Azerbaijan
Italy
Sweden
Ukraine
Denmark
Bosnia & Herzegovina
Greece
Ireland
Georgia
Germany

Here’s how they look as choruses in a major/minor key, starting on the tonic chord (key change in parentheses):

major, tonic (no)
minor, tonic (no)
minor, tonic (hell, yes)
minor, tonic (no)
major, tonic (no)
minor, non-tonic (yes)
minor, tonic (yes)
minor, tonic (no)
minor, tonic (no)
minor, tonic (no)

Commiserations to the songwriters who tried starting their choruses on something other than the tonic. May they console themselves with dark mutterings about voting blocs and former Soviet economies.

Of the ten qualifiers, eight began their choruses on the tonic.

Of the nine non-qualifiers, only four began their choruses on the tonic chord.

I’m telling you, Europe, tonic chord at the top of the chorus. Major or minor. Go with the odds.

The AABA for Moldova (my favourite of the night, incidentally) indicates that they didn’t use verse/chorus form, but their refrain still began on the tonic.

And Sweden gets a double tick for key changes, because the song already changed key between each verse and chorus, and still gave everyone a big fat key change for the final chorus. That’s some serious Eurovision writing and arranging right there.

The contest is in a rut of minor key choruses at the moment (the last five winners), so Poland, Georgia, Malta and Hungary (minor choruses, started on the tonic) should have been in with a chance. Greece had a chorus starting on the tonic minor, and with a big fat key change towards the end, so that’s good odds.

The countries that ought to have done even better, according to the theory, are Lithuania, Armenia, (minor key, but major key tonic chorus), Azerbaijan, Iceland, San Marino, Finland, Switzerland, and Norway (major key, major chorus starting on the tonic), with Croatia doing particularly well (major key, major chorus starting on the tonic and a big fat Eurokey change).

In reality, the eliminated countries were Poland, Norway, Albania, Armenia, Turkey, Malta, San Marino, Croatia and Portugal.

So my theory predicted three out of five eliminees purely on the basis of a non-tonic chorus. And I was really, really wrong about Croatia.

Of course, if one actually listens to the songs, and sees the performances, Serbia’s non-tonic chorus is overidden by its Bacharach-esque charm. It’ll do well.

Also, I think the songs are getting shorter (no data, just a hunch), and that makes the big Euro key change harder to pull off. A grand institution is under threat, folks.

The religion I’m mocking is homophobic, misogynist, theologically ignorant and intellectually dishonest.

If that does not describe your religion then I’m not having a go at your religion.

On the other hand, if that is your religion, well then yeah, I’m mocking it.

As Bill Hicks once said, “So? Forgive me.”

My Fundy Christian Girl

She likes to sing,
Yes she does.
She likes to dance
All night long.
She likes to paint,
You can tell
From her bedroom walls depictin’ single mothers
Burning in Hell.

Wuh-uh-oh-oo-oo-Hoah
She’s my fundy Christian girl
(Repeat)

She likes to read
Just one Book.
She likes to hold
Just one view.
She helps the poor
When she can
Thank the Lord their misery is part of His
Divine lovin’ plan.

Wuh-uh-oh-oo-oo-Hoah
She’s my fundy Christian girl
(Repeat)

God says we gotta wait ’til we’re married.
We wait Monday to Friday and then
We do it like bunnies on the weekend,
Get forgiven and the cycle starts all over again.

My friends say that I must be crazy,
How can I stand to be so good?
And then she does all my cooking and my cleaning
Like her fundy book says a fundy woman should.

Wuh-uh-oh-oo-oo-Hoah
She’s my fundy Christian girl
(Repeat)

And maybe every band she loves
Can’t play for shit or write a decent tune.
Still, I will love her ’til the end of time,
Which she promises is coming soo – oo – ooon,

She’s my fundamental, tub-thumping,
Homophobic, pick and choosing,
Literal interpreter of laws

She’s very, very big on family,
When she says save the family
She means save her family
From yours …

Wuh-uh-oh-oo-oo-Hoah
She’s my fundy Christian girl
(Repeat, etc.)

No, I’d feel sorry for the royal couple, and bemused by the hysterical coverage of their wedding, even if I were a fervent loyalist.

Hence this rueful number, in the style of early Elton John:

Look At Us

Look at us, a modern couple.
A Windsor man, and you so normal.
We keep things semi-formal at our place,
Or at least we try.
I’m just some guy
Mucking in with a girl nine-tenths as privileged as I.

And do I love you?
Yes, of course I do.
Like any man, I stand here, proud,
And pledge this love before the crowd,
To you, the intersection of what I want with what I’m allowed.

And am I happy?
Look, the future shines
With throne and church and suits for free,
And stamps and coins that look like me,
As happy as a doomed and a dying institution can be.

Look at us, we’ll raise our children,
Pay tax and keep grace under pressure,
We smile like cats from Cheshire at the rude
stuff that people say,
And we’ll be praised.
Just for doing the things a thousand couples do each day.

Is there a downside?
Oh, my word indeed:
When every blemish on your skin
Becomes your family’s mortal sin,
Reflect that you could choose, and you knew what you were getting going in.

For England needs us.
And what does it say?
How sad and lonely must the people be
To trot out every useless Earl?
What anguish makes them want to see
This mindless social whirl?
How deep must the feelings of inadequacy go
For them to elevate us so?

Look at us, a modern couple.
Look at us.
Look at all this fuss.

Look at us.

I couldn’t resist teasing her, though, because at 0:18 Victoria Justice sings “somebody could hear” in the traditional manner, pronouncing “hear” so that the listener thinks of this:

Then at 0:25, for some strange reason, she pronounces the rhyme “disappear”, as dis – a – one of these:

Singers do this vowel-mangling all the time, if you let them, but it’s usually the writer’s fault. Stay away from the pinched vowels, lyricists, like “eeee” and “eeeer” on long sustained belt notes. Especially near a young girl’s break in register, that’s a minefield.

It often happens on the word “me”, which turns into “may”, and later in the Victorious theme song (‘Make it Shine’ by Dr. Luke and Michael Corcoran), “me” turns into “may”, but for once it’s not the fault of the writers. It’s just a poorly trained singer trying to sound like her vowel-mangling Idols:

Not a fantasay
Just remember May
When it turns out right …

… In my victoray
Just remember May …

I have been dutifully remembering this chick called May, but she has yet to turn up in the series.

We should give TV singers and writers a break, because they never have training, and they rarely have talent. We should be tough – very tough – on any guilty music theatre writers. Like Andrew Lloyd Webber and Amy Powers/Don Black/Christopher Hampton, the writers of Norma Desmond’s big ballad “With One Look”, from Sunset Boulevard. They give this, right on the break, to a woman of a certain age:

This time I am staying, I’m staying for good
I’ll be back to where I was born to be
With one look I’ll be me!

I hate this song. I really hate this song, and for all sorts of reasons. It has bullshit lines like “silent music starts to play”, which isn’t true of seeing a silent movie. You can hear the music, but not the movie: that’s the point.

But look at that last line. Two “eeee” vowels, back to back! And what does “With one look I’ll be me” even mean? Does Norma mean “Once again, I’ll be the great silent screen star Norma Desmond”? Then she should sing “Norma Desmond”. And it need not rhyme.

Anyway, here, around 2:59,  is Glenn Close singing “With one look, I’ll be May”:

Fine, you might say, Glenn Close can sing, but she’s not one of the great belters. Betty Buckley is one of the great belters, and here she is, in a live performance, around 8:22, having to preserve her belt voice by singing both “where I was born to bay” and “With one look, I’ll bear Maaaay”.

Bad writing. Pure and simple.

122356352516352536553625162565

Very tedious. I made my own:

It’s tuned to a major scale with a #4 and a b7. This means, for the technically minded, that it’s a lydian dominant windchime, tuned to a close relative of the harmonic series, with no avoid notes.

On a windy day, such things are important.

The bells are made from a curtain rod, and the clapper came out of an old lantern. The whole thing is fairly hefty, so it only sounds on really windy days, and it only plays the occasional, well-chosen note. It’s my Mile Davis of windchimes.

Here’s some audio of this pioneering iconoclast in action.