Must the Lyric Be Meaningless If It Ain’t Good English?

Much as I deplore the bad English that is rampant in the media, and sometimes (alas) finds its way into this space, there is such a thing as excessive vigilance.

There are language cops that blow the whistle at every alleged offense. English is vigorous. It sometimes prospers from the apparent blunders that outrage purists.

I have an idea that Byron Long is only kidding in pointing out what he calls “egregious grammatical errors” in the titles of popular songs. He claims to be “perplexed” by the titles of hit songs by such songwriters as Ira Gershwin and Duke Ellington.

For example he cites Gershwin’s “S’wonderful,” insisting that it should be “It’s Wonderful.”

As I say, I suspect Long is kidding, but in any case his complaint demonstrates my thesis that bad grammar is often good English.

He also objects to “I Ain’t Got Nobody,” suggesting that properly it should be “I Do Not Have Anyone.”

As your ear will tell you, “I Do Not Have Anyone” is completely without pathos, without feeling. It is obvious why a person who would say “I do not have anyone” would not have anyone.

Another of Long’s examples is “Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby,” which he renders, correctly, as “Are You My Baby or Are You Not.”

“Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby” is not only good English, it is English that soars above the merely grammatical. Again, there is a pathos, a feeling, in this expression that does not rise from “Are you my baby or are you not?”

“Are you my baby or are you not” has the taint of the schoolroom in it. It does not pulse with the anguish of damaged love.

Long also objects to “Ain’t Misbehavin’,” noting that it ought to be “I’m Not Misbehaving.”

Finally, he objects to “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” I needn’t point out what he offers as a correct substitute.

“How did these songwriters ever get popular?” he asks. “Maybe they were uneducated and can be excused, but why didn’t the publishers catch the errors before printing the music? Some things just can’t be explained. . . “

That last paragraph suggests that Long may not be kidding, in which case I agree with him that “some things just can’t be explained.”

As he says, there are dozens more. Imagine Ellington singing “I Have It Bad and That Is Not Good.” Or “Ring Those Bells,” instead of “Ring Dem Bells.”

Gershwin was also given to bad grammar, but it’s hard to imagine him writing “Bess, You Are My Woman Now” or “It Isn’t Necessarily So.”

How could Maceo Pinkard’s “Them There Eyes” be rendered into proper English? “Those Eyes There”? Correct diction would take the playfulness out of “Gimme a Little Kiss, Will Ya Huh?”

What if Howard Phillips had written “I Am Not Talking” instead of “I Ain’t Talkin”’ or “It Used to Be I” instead of “It Used to Be Me.”?

It would be hopeless to try rendering Lee Pockriss’ “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” into any kind of schoolmarm English. The closest I can come is “Very Small Yellow Polka Dot Bikini,” which doesn’t give the picture at all.

Of course Oscar Hammerstein II’s “There Is Nothin’ Like a Dame” is not only slipshod diction but sexist, as well, since dame is no longer permissible. Undoubtedly there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of popular songs whose titles reflect the vernacular, the regional, the ethnic patterns of English. Had they been rendered in proper English they would have flopped. We would never have heard of Fats Waller or Louis Armstrong.

The language is full of ungrammatical cliches that would never have caught on if they had been rendered in proper English. “It isn’t over till the fat lady sings” has no guts. Neither does “It isn’t over until it’s over.”

Inevitably, there is a tendency among literate people to correct common sayings that get into the language in misbegotten shape. For example, a phrase that has become quite common in recent years is “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” That is a forceful piece of wisdom that may be used with success in many everyday situations.

Somehow, however, it loses its vigor when it is rendered as “If it isn’t broken don’t fix it.” In a current TV commercial, a business executive asks the scrub lady about some proposed change in the company program and she says, “If it ain’t broke, why fix it?”

I would ask the scriptwriter why he didn’t stick to the adage. “Why fix it?” opens the question to discussion. “Don’t fix it” is final.

In tampering with song titles, Long should be guided by it.