Perhaps as a result of one too many nights spent demanding that my mother mop my brow and calm my fevered thoughts, I have always believed the whisper to be a consoling sound. Turns out, not for the first time, I could not have been more naive. Yes, for children a whisper may be gentle and soothing, but for adults the whole thing is switched around. Whispers aren't gentle, they're menacing. Not soothing, but scary. And they're sensual too, which puts an Oedipal spin on matters that I would rather not have to contemplate.
Let us turn first to Justify My Love, a song almost as controversial on its release in 1990 as it was best-selling. Comprised largely of three elements – a hip-hop beat, a wave of synthesizer and Madonna's smoky vocals – the lyrics themselves are not particularly crude, but the mood of the song leaves you in no doubt that something is going on and it probably involves leather. (Furniture upholstery, for example.) Fifteen years later the Ying Yang Twins explored similar territory, though they choose straight away to dispense with any subtlety. The Whisper Song is an explicit affair, but rather than seductive, the whispering is disturbing, threatening almost.
A side topic of debate on the blog this week sought to classify the various grades of low-speaking. "Breathy" female vocals, for example, were identified as having their own subset, into which fell a number of French singers. Isobel Campbell is not French, but her entry has a Gallic feel to it. There's the suitably breathy vocals of course, but also a finger-picked guitar which intertwines with simple piano chords to create a single beguiling melody. In a similar vein is Dusty's The Look of Love, which features an uncommonly understated vocal that's breathy, smoky and whispered all at once.
On from the seductive to the frightening. The Cure's Lullaby is not the kind you would want whispered to you as a child, concerning as it does the possibility of being eaten by a spider man. The introduction to Einstürzende Neubauten's motorik mini-epic comes on like a piece of industrial theatre, whispers scrabbling about the place amidst a clamour of clacking percussion. How to describe the effect brought about by Spirit's Like a Rolling Stone? Similar to double-dosing flu remedies, I imagine. Vocals flit in and out of whispers, but remain lethargic throughout; just as they seem to gather energy, they fall away again. So far removed is this that from the passion of Dylan's original that it's stirring despite itself (an effect aided by an arrangement that builds to several great crescendos).
It is with some pleasure that I can confirm not every item in this week's list is aimed at freaking you out or turning you on. Violent Femmes introduce a whispered section as a little breather in their otherwise gobby anthem. Hendrix also uses a brief whispered interlude as a form of punctuation. "So let me live my life/ The way I want to" is how it goes, leading into a headflip of a coda (wailing flutes, jazz drums, the lot). Nina Simone's whispering is perhaps the briefest of the top 10, but also the most affecting. Coming at the end of a song about human failings, the final "isn't it a pity" is despairing, resigned and barely audible.
This week's playlist
1 Seele Brennt Einstürzende Neubauten
2 Like a Rolling Stone Spirit
3 If Six Was Nine Jimi Hendrix
4 Blister in the Sun Violent Femmes
5 The Look of Love Dusty Springfield
6 The Breeze Whispered Your Name Isobel Campbell
7 Justify My Love Madonna
8 Isn't It a Pity Nina Simone
9 Wait (Whisper Song) Ying Yang Twins
10 Lullaby The Cure
Next week: songs about falling
