LAST CALL
UNORIGINAL? JOIN THE ILLUSTRIOUS CLUB BY JOHN BOHLINGER
About six months ago I worked as a bandleader
and music director for the 2011
Mint Jubilee, a mammoth charity gala that occurs on the eve
of the Kentucky Derby. The
acts we were working with were
American Idol winners Jordin
Sparks and Kris Allen—both
wildly talented, fun, and gracious musicians. I’d not played
any current pop music for a
long time, so this was a welcome change from my twangy
norm and a chance to catch
up on what’s happening in the
pop and rock world. But here’s
what really struck me: Although
these songs were fresh, hooky,
and inventive, their titles
were—like 75 percent of all
music—derivative.
We started with Kris Allen’s
“Live Like We’re Dying.” Allen’s
song has a great melody, and a
powerful message, but you can’t
help but notice that the title
is clearly taken from the 2004
CMA Song of the Year recorded
by Tim McGraw—“Live Like
You Were Dying.” With a
hook like this, the title is the
concept. The title demands
that you not stray far from the
idea of making the most of life,
because it’s going to end soon.
(As my Italian grandfather
Joseppi would say, “Memento
mori,” which essentially means
“Remember, you will die.”)
Granted, the title and message
were very close on the Allen
and McGraw songs, but the
grooves and melodies were
unique and Allen’s performance
was fantastic.
Allen’s second song, “Alright
with Me,” fell into a similar cat-
egory. This title has been a hit
for Cole Porter, George Strait,
Patti Labelle, Eric Hutchinson,
Tom Waits, the Zombies, and
many more. Again, Allen’s song,
like those by the other artists,
had its own thing, but the title
itself remains as unique as a
mid-sized, black roller bag in an
airport baggage claim.
In 1995, Jill Sobule’s eponymous
album included her song “I Kissed
a Girl.” On the 2008 album, One
of the Boys, Katy Perry released
a different song with the same
title—and it became a smash hit.
Was this fair play or song theft?
’80s anthem, “Love is a
Battlefield”—another case of
great titles being recycled.
Look at the song that broke
the adorable Katy Perry: “I
Kissed a Girl”—a sexy vignette
of hot girls making out (which
I am not going to hold against
anybody). Jill Sobule released her
song “I Kissed a Girl” in 1995,
complete with an MTV video
and modest radio play. Sobule
was working around Nashville
about the same time that the
teenage, Christian version of
Perry was recording and working in Nashville, so it’s probable
that she heard it. Sobule is more
than a little pissed about what
she calls “song stealing,” but the
truth is, one cannot copyright a
title—whether in a song, poem,
book, or movie. You could
legally write a book called The
Holy Bible or Fight Club, though
I doubt many publishers would
want to touch it.
Look at William Shakespeare,
clearly no hack when it comes to
writing a story. By the time he
got around to writing Romeo and
Juliet, this story with this title
had been written before. The
songs recorded, but strangely
enough, some of my back
catalogs (one owned by Warner,
another owned by Sony) will
occasionally pay me on songs
I’m pretty sure have not been
recorded. These songs were
entered into these catalogs,
listed with BMI, but never
pitched to any artist I’m aware
of. Therefore, chances are that a
few dollars of my measly checks
may in part be from songs by
the same titles registered to the
same publishers and performing
rights societies. When I brought
this to Sony’s attention they
said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s
small change and it may even
be your song.” This makes me
think I should quickly write
songs called “Yesterday” and
“Sweet Home Alabama.”
There’s a great courtroom
scene in the 2008 film Flash
of Genius that illustrates what
constitutes an original creation.
The film tells the true story of a
guy named Robert Kearns who
takes on Ford Motor Co., who
he claims stole his idea for the
intermittent windshield wiper. In
court, Ford argues that Kearns
did not invent anything, but
merely strung together a few
capacitors. This is paraphrased a
bit, but Kearns rebuts by address-
ing the judge and saying some-
thing like, “Can you copyright
the word it or was or perhaps
the?” The judge replies, “No,
you can’t.” Then Kearns reads
Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities,
arguing effectively that it’s not
the ingredients—be they words
or capacitors—but the order in
which one puts them that consti-
tutes an original creation.
JOHN BOHLINGER
John Bohlinger is a
Nashville multi-instrumentalist best known for his
work in television. He led
the band for all six seasons of NBC’s hit program
Nashville Star, as well as the 2011, 2010,
and 2009 CMT Music Awards and many
specials for GAC, PBS, CMT, USA, and
HDTV. Watch him perform on You Tube,
and check out his new band the Tennessee
Hot Damns on Facebook and i Tunes.
