The last couple of days I’ve been hearing from people about the NY Times Magazine’s list 30 Best Living American Songwriters.
About the half the people chosen are completely idiotic. Worse, the omissions are serious.
We immediately pointed out that Billy Joel, one of the best ever, didn’t make the cut. Neither did James Taylor, Donald Fagen, soul stars Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, and Jackson Browne.
We called out Joni Mitchell and Neil Young. The excuse there is said to be that they’re “Canadian.” They’ve each lived in the States for 60 years. They’re residents whether you like it or not. Sorry, they should have been included.
Instead, the Times editors think Outkast (one song — “Hey Ya”), rapper Young Thug, Mariah Carey (every song co-written by someone else, doubtful she wrote music), Jay Z (all songs sampled), The Dream (a nightmare), Fiona Apple (sing one song, dare ya), Stephen Merritt (who now?), Bad Bunny (sorry, but no), and Romeo Santos are better than the aforementioned.
Best Living Songwriters would also include Broadway — Lin Manuel Miranda, for example. Or Lady Gaga, who’s penned some real hits that are memorable. Neil Diamond is very much alive, but his songs would be too popular, I guess. Tom Waits? Patti Smith? Herb Alpert? David Byrne? Brenda Russell? Carole Bayer Sager? Al Green? The list goes on and on.
Of course, these lists are meant to be provocative. Rolling Stone does some dumb list four times a year, and everyone hates them. They’re supposed to draw attention be good for publicity no matter how mad they make readers. But what if there were a smart list, one that showed the magazine really got it? But the NYTimes Magazine? They should stay in their own lane and write about prisons, the homeless, and ice floes. Leave the arts and culture to others.
Now, of course, the Times is publishing lists of people they’ve forgotten. It won’t work.
Sorry, Billy, you came thisclose. If only you had a few ditties we could all sing. Maybe next time…
