Death of the Author, Birth of the Listener
It’s common for music fans to debate the meaning of a song, as though there were a single meaning to be deciphered.
Interpretation is often focused on the lyrics, since they are the most obvious expression of what a song is about. But rarely do people stop there.
When there’s a disagreement, you can bet that someone will bring up the songwriter.
- What have they said in interviews?
- What was the story behind the song?
- What themes have they explored in their other songs?
There is a widespread belief that the writer is the one who unlocks the meaning of the song.
Back in 1967, French literary theorist Roland Barthes challenged this approach to interpretation, coining the now (in)famous phrase “death of the author”. He was talking about literature, but his arguments could just as easily apply to music.
For Barthes, it’s the reader/listener (and not the author) that acts as the site of meaning. He takes the extreme stance that the meaning of a text has nothing to do with its author’s life and intentions.
Even if we don’t go so far as declaring the songwriter dead, there is still something to learn from his perspective. The meaning of your songs will always go beyond your intentions. And there are good reasons to embrace that.
Let’s discuss how this point of view can help you broaden your perspective on your own songs. We’ll start with a brief summary of Barthes’ core idea.
Roland Barthes declares the death of the author
As a literary theorist, Barthes talks about “the text”. As you read this section, think of “the text” as the song, and “the reader” as the listener.
In “The Death of the Author”↗(opens in a new tab), Barthes starts from the popular idea that critics decipher the meaning of a text by studying the biography, culture, beliefs, and aims of the author.
In effect, the author has put meaning into the text, and the critic’s job is to discover that meaning.
But on Barthes’ view, a text is always just a new combination of existing cultural materials and quotations. It’s true that someone put them together. But once assembled, that someone has no further control over what they mean.
With this shift in thinking, it becomes impossible to decipher the “true meaning” of a text. Barthes calls it a “multi-dimensional space” that can be explored and disentangled by the reader. But there is nothing underneath to ultimately discover.
According to Barthes, “classic criticism has never paid any attention to the reader; for it, the writer is in the only person in literature.” His theory turns this idea on its head.
It’s not the author, the critic, or the expert who determines the meaning of a text. It’s only the reader.
The (pre-existing) materials of a song
There is a popular conception of the songwriter as a genius who creates original music through an almost magical process.
But what are the materials that the songwriter uses to write a song? Melodies, chords, lyrics, and rhythms.
None of these can be truly original. Instead, they are drawn from music that already exists.
It is more accurate to think of a songwriter as transforming existing materials than creating them from nothing.
Music, like any art form, plays on the expectations of the audience. And it does this by mixing the familiar with the unexpected.
Barthes’ idea of the text as a combination of cultural materials and quotations applies as much to a song as it does to a book.
The meaning of a song goes beyond the lyrics
I mentioned at the beginning that critics and music fans often focus on the lyrics when interpreting a song. That’s because it is normally easier to tell what they are “about” than the music itself.
But a song is much more than just those words. The “text” of a song includes all of the materials we just discussed: melody, harmony, and rhythm as well as lyrics.
All of these interact to create layers of meaning.
Let’s take a simple example: singing happy lyrics against a melancholy musical background. If you just read the words, you would interpret the song as a happy one. “I love my life,” the singer tells us, “there is nothing to worry about.”
But those melancholy chords challenge this surface level meaning. This is a form of ambiguity.
Ambiguity is everywhere in popular music. It can be purely lyrical, melodic, harmonic, rhythmic, or some combination of these. And it poses a question to the listener.
But the songwriter doesn’t control the answer. As Barthes reminds us, the listener plays a role in creating the meaning of a song.
The listener’s perspective
When we talk about listeners, fans, or an audience, we gloss over something pretty important: an audience is made up of individuals, with their own life stories and experiences.
If songs draw from and recombine existing musical materials, then the listener will always interpret the song in a larger musical context.
But listeners come from different musical cultures. And they are each familiar with a different collection of songs.
This means that the exact expectations they bring to your songs will be unique. And you, as a songwriter, have no control over that.
Some musicians openly embrace this. If an interviewer asks them what a particular song means, they defer to their listeners: “I hope it means something different to each person.”
That wish will probably be granted.
The meaning of your songs will always escape you
Separating the story of a song from its meaning can be a powerful thing for songwriters.
When you let go of the idea that you control the meaning of your songs, you free yourself to take on new perspectives.
Let me explain. If a song is just a vessel for delivering a specific meaning, then a successful song must actually deliver that message.
This means that you must be sure every element of your song reinforces it, as clearly as possible. You are at the mercy of the message.
But if instead a song is a site for interpretation, something that every listener will receive in their own way, then you don’t need to control the message.
Instead, you can explore ideas, pose questions, and inhabit new perspectives. You can create something that engages the creativity of your audience and challenges them to think (and feel) in new ways.
You don’t have to, of course. If people just love to dance along, your song is still a success. But even then, you can give yourself permission to focus on making it danceable, taking a looser approach to the words.
Your audience will fill in the blanks.
The humble author
Barthes presents us with a provocative point of view. Provocative perspectives can spur new thinking and challenge our assumptions, but they often go too far.
It’s implausible that the meaning of a song has nothing to do with the author. But Barthes’ provocation shows us that it’s just as implausible that it has everything to do with the author.
You work in a long tradition of musicians within a musical context that you didn’t create. And each of your listeners is a collaborator in the meaning of your songs.
It can be powerful to embrace humility. To accept that you can never truly create something from nothing.
You have a unique voice that you can add to that tradition. But your voice will be heard in countless different ways.