Randy Newman
Born Again

THE REVIEW

With Randy Newman, one can also be content just listening to his music (excellent, especially if one has a certain "adult" taste for orchestrated and old-fashioned sounds reminiscent of the fifties/sixties), but to deprive oneself of the enjoyment brought by his surprising lyrics is a mortal sin.
For example, in this album, he opens with (in "It's Money That I Love"):

It's money that I love!
They say money can’t buy love
but you can get yourself some cocaine,
a sixteen-year-old and a huge limousine on a warm September night
this may not be love but it's just right!

A jerk? No, someone who very originally and at the risk of misunderstandings, sublimates the distortions and pettiness of human nature by referring them to his own persona, because we are all a bit greedy, a bit racist, a bit cowardly? Enough to feel a little ashamed of ourselves and not be able to completely cheat ourselves when we see the very greedy, the very racist, the very cowardly in action and instinctively judge them as so different and worse than us.
The effect is often disorienting, take one of the masterpieces from this album "Half A Man": Newman identifies as a truck driver approaching a queer on the street, knife and chain in hand and a strong desire to use them, she, trembling like a leaf, says:

Stop! I'm only half a man
I would have liked to be a dancer but I'm too wide for that!
I can only make you feel pity, not anger

but then(!)?:

But look at you, girl, you're just half a man too!
You walk and talk like a dockworker!  

And this close encounter between a gay man and a lesbian is wrapped in beautiful music, with an unforgettable and poignant chorus.

Newman is the son of a Beverly Hills doctor, as a child he saw prominent figures of the cinematic and musical world around his house, the brothers and cousins of his father were all composers of film scores for Hollywood movies of the time, it was inevitable for him too to develop a specific taste for the rich and romantic orchestrations of those years and for a type of music always descriptive and "filmic," which soon led to him also creating numerous soundtracks (Oscar-winning, thirteen nominations and one statuette won).

A Woody Allen type, in short, more humble and less narcissistic, with the same ordinary face, the same slight depression, the same extraordinarily ironic talent. For him, the clear inability to communicate this talent, despite himself, to vast audiences. He remains a cult figure, much loved by a few, perhaps for the kind of music that can also be termed outdated, but brilliantly melodic and above all clothed in abrasive and exciting lyrical content.

In conclusion, I translate the lyrics of the last track of this album "Pants", a brilliant description of his sexual attraction to someone:

Now I'm taking off my pants, now I'm taking them off!
Your mom can't stop me, your dad can't stop me,
The police can't stop me, nobody can stop me,
Your teachers can't stop me, and your priest can't stop me,
And the firefighters can't stop me, and the President of the United States can't stop me,
Will you take these pants off? Do you want to take them off?