The Art of Parody

Bad Parody! No Doughnut!

A staple of filk music is the send-up of someone else's song. About eight seconds after you release any serious song (even humorous serious songs) along comes a Kanefsky or Osier or Smith with a send-up. And no matter how attached you are to your original work, you laugh[1].

Usually. But how many of these send-ups get sung more than once? Damned few, and for good reason. There's a wide gap between the average send-up and those few that have taken on a life of their own. My favorite of these is Frank Hayes' song Don't Ask. It skewers Al Franks The Green Hills of Harmony with great enthusiasm.

Let's look at some of the originals and send-ups, and talk about what separates the one-shots from the perennials.


[1] Only because you don't want to be seen as a bad sport, of course.

Lyrical Parallelism

Anybody can set a song to The Twelve Days of Christmas or Gilligans Island -- and damned near everyone has, at one time or another. Since most filk is rather simple in rhyme and meter, it's pretty common to rip off the tune from a filk song and do your own words.

That's fine, but it's not parody. It's just laziness for folks who can't write their own melodies. Parody doesn't just rip off the melody line, it rips off the subject in creative ways. Consider the opening verse from Michael Longcor's I Like To Watch You Walk[1] and what Steve Macdonald and I did with it for I Like To Watch You Caulk:

 Line   Rhyme  I Like To Watch You Walk I Like To Watch You Caulk
1 A You're a modern kind of woman   You're the sexy kind of he-man
2 B On that we both agree,   I've been looking for for years,
3 C With a black belt in Karate   With a belly like a washboard
4 B And a PhD degree.   But a gap between your ears.
5 D I know you're not an object   You got hammers in your tool belt,
6 E I know you're not a toy   A paste gun in your hands,
7 F I don't want to offend you,   And an IQ that is challenged
8 E And I don't want to annoy   By a box of Raisin Bran
9 G But I like to watch you walk...   But I like to watch you caulk...

Our send-up works both as parody and as standalone. Let's look first at the parody mechanisms.

We rely very heavily on reversal in the parody. With the first line we reverse the sex of the person being spoken of, and presumably the sex of the speaker as well. In the second makes the object of desire one-dimensional rather that well-rounded. In lines 3-6, we list the attributes of the object, again with parallelism and ironic reversal. The `washboard' in belly refers not just to the musculature, but is also something you'd never ask a modern woman to use. She's not an object, he uses objects. She's not a toy, she plays with toys[2].

When you write a parody, you are usually assuming the listener is familiar with the original. The means the listener has already internalized the rhyme scheme and is being drawn in to the parallelism. As soon as he realizes it parody, his mind starts racing ahead trying to figure out what the punch lines are going to be. Since in this case we following the original rhyme scheme closely, he's clued in that there's probably going to be a punch line very close to `I like to watch you walk.' So we string him out as far as possible, changing only one phoneme in the last word but preserving a rhyme with the original.

Note, though, that we have not telegraphed it. While the listener expects rhyme in songs, there is no internal rhyme with `walk' (or `caulk') in either song! Instead, we rely on our duplication of the original rhyme scheme to make the listener expect something strongly parallel. We give it to him, but make him wait until the last instant.

One narrative problem with the song is the word `caulk'. It's not your everyday word. When Steve Macdonald first mentioned the song idea to me, he had little more than the line `I like to watch you caulk', and an image[3]. Had to repeat the line several times before I understood the word `caulk.'

A punch line the user can't understand isn't much use. So we decided to help the listener along by mentioning a paste gun. Now the listener has built a mental picture of this hunk in T-shirt and blue jeans, holding a paste (caulk) gun in his hands. With this image, everybody gets the word right immediately. Yes, we do some vocal emphasis and enunciation as well - but pre-loading the idea seems to be the most important part.

We've been very pleasantly surprised to find that I Like To Watch You Caulk works well even on listeners who've not heard the original. By adhering so closely to Longcors original structure (which is darned good) and poking gentle fun at the idea of The Modern Conflicted Woman as sexual predator, we came up with a song wherein the humor does not intrinsicly rely on knowing the original material. Mind you, it's funnier if you know the original - but you don't have to know the original to appreciate the parody.


[1] I Like To Watch You Walk is available on Mikes CD Walking The Wilderness, published by Firebird Arts and Music. I Like To Watch You Caulk is not available on anything because we don't want Mike to rip our lungs out and consume them in front of our children.
[2] Boy toys, in this case.
[3] To be exact, an image of a pudgy handyman bending over and showing a little butt cleavage. Icky. We quickly discarded the image, and went for the hunk you would much rather picture. Now go wash your brain out with soap.

Thematic Parallelism

Frank Hayes took a very different approach when he wrote his send-up of The Green Hills of Harmony. Many years ago, Al Frank took the melody and theme from Farewell tae th' Creeks
[1] by Hamish Henderson, added elements from science fiction and the Gordy Dicksons Dorsai novels, and came up with The Green Hills of Harmony. It instantly became an anthem for the Dorsai Irregulars.

There are those who consider the Irregulars to be somewhat self-important[2]. Frank Hayes is one of them. He leapt on The Green Hills of Harmony, and came up with Don't Ask. It neatly skewers the original by turning the excessive nobility of the song in a wildly funny collection of all-too-human venality. It proved wildly popular, not just with the regular crowds at the filksings but with the Dorsai Irregulars themselves[3]. Here is the first verse of each:

  Line   The Green Hills of Harmony   Don't Ask
1 Oh, the sergeant is saddened.   The orders come down
2 The piper is fey.   And they march us away.
3 There's no Dorsai whiskey   There's a battle to fight,
4 They're havin' today.   And we join in the fray.
5 The skies to the westward   Ghod, it's hell when you know
6 Are clouded and grey   This could be your last day
7 And all of the soldiers are leavin'.   But it's better than working for Xerox.
Chorus:   Chorus:
C1 And it's march, march, down to the landing   So March, March, April, May, June, July,
C2 And sit on your packs   August, September,
C3 While the ferry's away.   We'll fight every day.
C4 And it's fare ye well   And it's fare-thee-well
C5 Ye green hills of modesty   All vestige of harmony
C6 All the poor soldiers are leaving.   All of the Dorsai are singing.

Frank took a very different tack from Steve and I. Rather than stay as parallel as possible to the original, Frank went back to the real original, Farewell tae th' Creeks. He restored some of the original melody (Al Frank had been quite free with changes), reminding all those who took Green Hills too seriously that it was a stolen melody and theme.

Then he ran his razored tongue over the Irregulars[4]. The song is rife with deadly accurate digs at the DI. Bob Asprin founded the Irregulars while working at Xerox (line 7). The Irregulars are well-known of their singing, but close harmony is not one of their strong points[5].

Structurally, Frank varied quite a bit from the original. This works well, because his target is not so much the original song but the group which produced and popularized it. The listener who is unfamiliar with the Irregulars is neither more nor less lost without the parallelism, and its removal allows Frank to vary as he need to in order to make his jokes work.

But that's not to say Frank completely abandoned the parallelism. He very cleverly begins by paralleling the themes until sucker-punching you with the 7th line, then sucks you back into parallel expectations twice: the first time with the `March March' (line C1) that turns into a month list, the second time by duplicating C4 and re-using the last word of C5 in a neat double entendre. Frank continue this pattern in later choruses, with each C5 chorus line leaving out a different quality and each C6 showing the result.

Considered as songwriting, Don't Ask is probably a better piece of work than I Like To Watch You Caulk. It's a bit subtler, it improves musically on the original, and it is much less likely to go for the low-brow sexual humor. On the other hand, it doesn't stand alone nearly as well. If you don't know about folks being skewered, much of the humor is diminished if not gone.


[1] Many folks have told us the original melody is from Braes of Sicily. Right melody, wrong title. You learn the most interesting things when fact-checking your articles.
[2] Both Steve Simmons (your humble author) and Steve Macdonald are members of the Irregulars. Steve and Steve are in agreement about the DI being self-important. So are most of the Irregulars.
[3] Come back, Frank, all is forgiven. At least until you get into range.
[4] It may be insulting, but it's funnier than hell and accurate enough to keep us on our toes. We sing it every year at our annual gathering. Really.
[5] Present company excepted, of course.

A Closing Note

All of this post-hoc analysis may be interesting, but do songwriters really think about this when they sit down to write?

Well, yes and no. I can't speak for Frank, but I can speak for myself and to a lesser extent for Steve Macdonald. As Steve and I were writing Caulk, we talked through many of the lines. We decided what variants to keep, what to pitch, what to move around and what to modify. And when we decided (I won't say argued, because we didn't) on what was better or worse, we were applying the same rules you see above.

Yes, inspiration[1] was our lead. But even inspiration falls under Sturgeon's Law[2]. Looking back at our discussions and decisions, we often explicitly said one or more of the things stated above. We didn't have those rules conciously in mind as we were writing, but they were critical in evaluating what we had done and in rewriting.

And if you're not evaluating and rewriting, you're probably not writing good parody.


[1] Of a sort.
[2] "90% of everything is crap." -- Ted Sturgeon.

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