I was toying with the the idea myself, a few days ago, to post “My Name Is Nobody” as a good example of light-weight, catchy tune BUT written by someone who actually has special gift to write those type of things. (And they’re very difficult to write.)
On paper, Cosma would be among my favourite composers: his stylistic range knows no limits, he doesn’t look down on the more “low-brow” popular types of music, he’s eclectic in the best possible way, he enthusiatically embraces every possible style or genre, he’s as versatile as any … and these are all things I greatly admire in a composer. (And I have a particularly strong fondness for people who do light music well.) But … the mammoth-sized problem here is: Cosma, in my view, doesn’t have the gift for great musical composition. He doesn’t have any talent for remarkable musical ideas or melody. Not like Ennio Morricone had. Not like John Barry had, not like Burt Bacharach had, not like Henry Mancini had. These four had that wondrous (and extremely rare) gift in spades, Cosma, unfortunately, doesn’t even have the tiniest seed of it.
He can write a half-decent tune, sure, like most of us can, and on a good day something might flow out of his pen that approaches a modicum of enjoyability, but it’s never going to be something truly extraordinary. The great melodies of those four other composers are just that: truly extraordinary.
Many things, and some very essential ones among them, in the art of composing music require skill, knowledge and technique. But there are also two things which require something else — talent — in order to reach outstanding musical heights. Unnurturable, undevelopable, unteachable and unlearnable talent. And those two things which require talent (rather than skill) are: melody and musical idea. Without a real talent for these, a composer may be as well-trained, educated, dedicated and passionate as can be, his or her output will never rise above the workmanlike. It may be interesting, profound, clever, sophisticated, enjoyable and even successful, but it won’t have that spark of special inspiration which makes the heart of all great music pump.
Of the three Strauss brothers, only Johann had The Gift. The other two could also write a perfectly shaped and serviceable polka, waltz or gallop, no problem at all, but only Johann, when inspired, could write melodies that can cast a spell on their audiences. He had the talent to inject his music with that spark. He could write melodies that transcend style, purpose, time and place, melodies that have a catchyness that is not contrived and never cheap but genuinely inspired (and therefore everlasting), melodies that have that elusive, almost magical quality with which they completely win over new audiences (all over the world) generation after generation after generation.
Unfathomably special talent that is. And Cosma doesn’t have it. He is very much like one of the other two Strauss brothers. He can try all he wants, does his better-than-best, but he will *never* write a great melody.
And regrettably, he doesn’t seem to know it himself, because if he did, he wouldn’t rely on ‘tunes’ as much as he does in his music. See, to my ears, Cosma’s music doesn’t so much expose whatever talent for music he might have, it exposes — and to a rather painful degree — the talent which he doesn’t have.
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