New rule: You can sing along even if you don't know the words

You're welcome. Also: Some fun news about my book in the P.S.

The other day, our family was headed somewhere in the car and “Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen came on the radio. I quite like this song, and most 80s songs about the bygone glories of youth for that matter, and I was in a chipper mood, so I started singing along.

Now here’s the thing about “Glory Days”—and, frankly, countless other pop songs that I’ve heard a bajillion times. While I know most of the lyrics, and while I recognize ALL of them, I cannot sing the entire song flawlessly from start to finish.

Nevertheless. Sing I did. It went a little something like this:

Me:

“I had a friend was a [….] baseball player (missing word: “big”)

Back in high school

He could throw that big ball by you (Actual lyrics: He could throw that speedball by you)

Makin’ love like a fool, yeah (Actual lyrics: Make you look like a fool, boy.)

[….. …… …. …. … ] [incomprehensible] bar (Actual lyrics: Saw him the other night at this roadside bar)

He was walking in, I was walking out (Actual lyrics: I was walking in, he was walking out)

We went back inside [… …. … …. …] drinks (Missing lyrics: sat down, had a few)

But all he kept talking about was

Glory days, well they'll pass you by

Glory days, in the wink of a young girl's eye

Glory days, glory days!

But I didn’t actually get all the way through my amazing performance of the first stanza uninterrupted. I think it was right around “He was walking in, I was walking out” when my beloved (but occasionally slightly grumpy) musician husband said, “If you’re going to sing, at least sing the right words.”

To which I said, triumphantly, “Nope! I don’t have to!”

You see, what my beloved husband did not realize is that several weeks earlier, my daughter Clio and I had declared, after happily singing along to a song we didn’t completely know, that people should not deny themselves the sheer joy of singing along with a song they like just because they don’t know every single word.

Actually, OK, I may have mostly declared this myself. When I asked Clio yesterday if I could mention her when I write about our declaration on my Substack, she was like “What declaration?” And I said: “Remember? In the car on the way to chorus? Our new rule that it’s OK to sing even if you don’t know all the words?” and she said, “Oh, yeah, sort of…you’re writing about that? It’s not like it was some big thing.”

What. Ever.

I say it it IS a big thing. Because who among us has not felt awkward or downright embarrassed when, after starting to sing a song with great, gleeful gusto, we find ourselves stumbling? Who among us has not silenced ourselves—or let ourselves be silenced by beloved but slightly grumpy partners or children or parents—because we don’t know all the words? And who among us has not felt a little sheepish for only knowing the chorus? Or not being able to keep pace with a super fast song?

Brrah! Brrah! I am Hercules Mulligan! Up in it, lovin’ it, yes I blah blah mah come again! Lock up your daughters and horses ma blah ba ba ba doo four sets of corsets!

My friends, cast off your self-consciousness and get ready to sing your hearts out, because there is a revolution a-comin’, and it starts RIGHT HERE in this Substack post.

Clio and I haven’t formally codified our declaration yet, or submitted it to lawmakers for approval (which I think would be a bipartisan slam dunk). But the basic principles are as follows:

1. You can sing along with whatever damned song you want, provided you know the melody and can more or less carry a tune, and provided you are in a setting where singing is appropriate and OK with those in your immediate vicinity.

2. Stumbling, messing up, not being able to keep up, starting the wrong verse, and/or leaving out words is nothing to be ashamed of. Because does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things, whether you get the order of players / haters / heartbreakers (or bakers, if you prefer; I do) / fakers right in the refrain of “Shake it Off”? No it does not, my friend. This goes double if you are singing it at a concert you paid $2,000 to attend.

3. If you don’t know (or forget) the words to a particular part of the song, it is perfectly acceptable to hum or ba-ba-ba or make up your own words during those parts. And if some singalong purist challenges you on this, you just tell them you’re simply paying homage to Ella Fitzgerald’s legendary 1960 performance of “Mack the Knife” in Berlin, where she forgot the words and improvised with a combination of her own made-up lyrics, brilliant scat, and a fabulous Louis Armstrong impression, and which was widely considered one of the best performances of her storied career. Boom.

4. Singing words that you know can’t possibly be right, but that’s what they sound like, is totally fine. For example, if you don’t know Springsteen is singing “Tenth avenue freeze out,” and you think it sounds more like “Devil in the freeze aisle” —which you know makes no sense, though you sort of enjoy picturing Satan in the frozen foods section of the grocery store—you are free to go ahead and sing “Devil in the freeze aisle” to your heart’s content anyway, because really, it’s Springsteen’s fault for not enunciating.

5. Unintentionally singing the wrong words is also 100% acceptable and should not be a source of shame or embarrassment. Again, it’s the singer’s fault for not enunciating and/or for writing weird lyrics, e.g. “Revved up like a deuce another runner in the night.” (SPRINGSTEEN AGAIN!) If you want to sing “Wrapped up like a douche in the middle of the night,” that is your goddamned right as a red-blooded, Bruce Springsteen-loving American. Or anyone else, for that matter.

6. These rules apply to ALL songs and artists, not just Taylor Swift and The Boss.

7. If you only know one word or phrase of a song, you may, freely and joyfully, just sing that part. You do not need to stay quiet just because you don’t know the whole song, because you’re worried some douche in the middle of the night will think you’re not a “true fan” or whatever. You want to hum / bob your head / stay silent for most of the song and then sing out one key phrase, such as “Little red corvette!” or “Pour some sugar on me!” or “If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it!” then you go right ahead and do that.

8. If “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime” comes on, you may not sing any part of it. You walk straight over to that radio or Bluetooth speaker or sound system behind the counter at Old Navy and turn that thing the fuck off. Then you say a prayer for Paul McCartney’s soul, because with that one song he may well have squandered the ticket to heaven he earned for writing “Let It Be,” dooming himself to spend eternity in the freeze aisle.

And there you have it, dear reader. The best new rule(s) ever. Because singing is a pleasure that should not be denied to any of us just because we can’t get all the lyrics right. And so I say to all people, everywhere—in every car, every gym, every club and wedding and bar mitzvah and holiday party and retail store—if you want to sing out, sing out. And if you want to be tea, be tea.

Sometimes my grumpy musician husband lets me sing harmony with him.

All posts on Jane’s Calamity are free and publicly available, but writing is how I make my living. If you enjoy my work, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription so I can go to a Springsteen concert sometime.

P.S. Here’s the fun news about my book: I’m delighted to announce that my novel The Society of Shame has been optioned for development into a TV series!

What does this mean? This means that a studio (I’m not allowed to say which) has reserved the rights to my book for 18 months, during which time they’re going to try to find a writer/showrunner who will work on the project, and then pitch it to various streaming services in hopes of getting it greenlit for production. BUT: before you start sending me your casting picks, know that vast majority of optioned projects never actually get produced. So most likely, nothing will happen. Still, you gotta celebrate every win, right? And ok, fine, give me your casting picks. Not that I have any power whatsoever in this or any other arena should the series ever get made—as I told my children when they asked if they could be extras—but hey, it’s fun!