Or maybe Bob Dylan. Or Carole King. Or Bob Gaudio....

 

     I seldom pause to wonder how readers might react to whatever it is I'm writing. First, because my starting premise is that, whatever the topic, they don't care — that's my job, to make them care, to present a situation in such a way that they find it interesting, despite lack of previous interest. 

     So the idea of taking their temperature, first, and then spoon feeding their biases back to them — what fun is that? That's a recipe for Fox News, for a feedback loop. They wouldn't need me then — they could just look in the mirror and start talking. No, I write what interests me, and hope readers take the bait and don't complain too much. That generally works.
    There was no particular reason to laud Randy Newman on Christmas Day. But he was on my mind, so that's what I did. Naming him "the greatest living American songwriter" wasn't a daring aesthetic choice. It's just the attitude that presented itself — the organizing idea, a mistake, probably. Not because I don't think he is — I do. But because the "greatest" appellation was a red flag waved in front of the readership. I hadn't considered that. 
    Cut to Christmas Day, at 7:03 a.m.. The column's up, and the very first email out of the blocks is this, from a Michael M.:

    Having read your columns for years, I've respected your opinion even when I disagreed with you. So the lazy blindness of your column today surprised me to no end. Like white Americans do all the time, you declared a "Greatest" only considering other white Americans as contenders for the title. It's so expected and accepted, I'll venture a guess you didn't even remotely think about it being offensive to the millions of people who don't have a clue to who Randy Newman is. Your column is ready by millions of those people so declarations like yours do matter. The truth of the matter is the greatest American songwriter living is William "Smokey" Robinson. From the Motown era thru today he had written literally hundreds of chart topping hits that have defined American music. As we used to say, no other American songwriter could " even carry his jockstrap." To be clear, I'm not accusing you of being a racist, you're not. I'm kinda dismayed that you unconsciously engaged in the thoughtless exclusionary belittling of Black and other minority Americans. And oh yea, Merry Christmas. 

     Michael M.

     I initially only thought of Tom Waits — for years he was my go-to greatest songwriter, before considering Newman. Trying to think of a second, for rhetorical purposes, I came up with Bruce Springsteen. It isn't as if I conducted a poll or made lists of options.
     Chewing on this — "lazy blindness," ouch — I read a few more emails.  Bob Dylan was mentioned. Shit, I never thought of him. And the racism stuff — like I'm Jann Wenner forgetting to include a black musical figure in my book of icons. I figured, if I'm going to lose my job over a frickin' column about music, I might as well go out swinging, and answered Michael M.:

     I appreciate your reading. But the "music is personal" aspect of my column must have flown past you. Newman is the greatest songwriter to me. I never thought about Smokey Robinson, didn't know he was still alive and, honestly, wouldn't have changed my opinion if I had. Another reader brought up Bob Dylan. Who, like Robinson, was important, and I'd have picked above him, despite the taint of being white. "Like a Rolling Stone" surely is a more important song than "Tears of Clown."
     Thanks for writing. If I post a few choice responses on my blog, I'll shield your name, to protect you from the embarrassment of being associated with your opinions. Oh, and Merry Christmas.

    Thank goodness that was the most ... strident email. Nobody calling for my head for lack of inclusivity. From there, it was various readers offering up various favorite artists. I thought they made some good points.

     I appreciate Randy Newman’s often quirky songs and really like Tom Waits (especially “The Heart of Saturday Night”). But I’m stumped as to how you can write a column on America’ greatest living songwriter without at least mentioning in passing Bob Dylan and Paul Simon.
     Just my take — and taste,
     Daniel F.

     Now Bob Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks" hit me like a freight train. When I was 16. But I'd no sooner declare him the greatest songwriter than I'd dub him America's best poet. Very important yes, but also generational. I pointed out to one Dylan fan that I was in kindergarten when "Like a Rolling Stone" was released. It was a bigger deal if you were 20. 
     The most surprising thing, for me, was the Carole King contingent. Quite a number of them. I'd put Joni Mitchell (okay, Canadian) or even Joan Baez above her. King seems feminist agitprop. 

     No, Neil — the greatest living songwriter is Carole King. She wrote for herself and dozens of other artists. While I'm sure you are familiar with her work, if not, get out to the Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire to see "Beautiful" while it's still there.

      This one sent me rushing to Wikipedia.

     Um, no. I usually agree with most of what you write. Even when I don’t, your sarcasm makes me laugh.
     But Randy Newman? I give you: Diane Warren, Bob Dylan, Bob Gaudio, Paul Simon, Brian Wilson, Barry Gordy, Carole King, and yes, Taylor Swift.

    To save you the effort: Diane Warren wrote "If I Could Turn Back Time" and dozens of forgettable top 10 hits, all of which could be heaped together and erased from our collective memory with no loss whatsoever to American culture. Bob Gaudio wrote "Sherry" and other songs for Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. The rest you know.

     Actually Brian Wilson — of the Beach Boys — gave me pause. Not my cup of tea either, but obviously great. And someone suggested one who made me wish I had given this some premeditation: Stevie Wonder. His songs might not have been the soundtrack of my life, but you can't ignore his genius.

    Oh, and before I drop this subject with a sigh of relief, there were a few who agreed with me:

You’re right, he is.

     Tom K.   

     I find most or your work to be timely, interesting, and informative. That said; I rarely agree with your conclusions. Today’s article is different for me. I could not agree more with your sentiments concerning Randy Newman. Thank you for the piece, it made my Christmas a little brighter.

    Kevin. 

    Which was the whole point. If you're wondering whether I learned a lesson from this, I have: never declare someone the greatest or the best at anything. Or maybe, ALWAYS declare someone the greatest or the best at something. It seems to stir the pot.

    Do you see the dilemma? That's why, in the main, it's better to focus on writing the stuff — that's hard enough — and let the readers react how they may.