At Sunday’s Grammys, nineteen-year-old Taylor Swift sang a song about what it was like to be fifteen. She dedicated it to fifteen-year-olds, sixteen-year-olds, and people who were “even older.” Ah, the generosity of youthful spirit.
Swift’s youth was already apparent in her latest single, “Love Story,” a retelling of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. In this version, Juliet experiences a mere millisecond of doubt before Romeo returns to save her, and they live happily ever after. A nice enough song, but a tellingly teenage revision.
In general, young people writing about youth tend to miss the finer points—even Janis Ian was twenty-two when she wrote “At Seventeen.” A little perspective can go a long way. The best songs about young love, especially, have been written by older artists.
Inspired by her own coming of age, songwriter Matraca Berg co-wrote “Strawberry Wine” when she was thirty-two, and Deana Carter sang it at thirty. It’s a lovely, wise song about falling in love for the first time, and the second verse begins with the wry observation: “I still remember/when thirty was old.” Carter sings of youthful infatuation that is “green on the vine,” an apt metaphor for the immaturity of those early romantic feelings.
Nor are these songs limited to nostalgic reflection or courtly romance. Patti Smith’s explosive anthem to young lust, “Because the Night,” was released when she was thirty-two. Stevie Nicks wrote the powerful “Edge of Seventeen” when she was thirty-four. Both of these songs capture the intensely physical passion of youthful (and not-so-youthful) affairs.
And, returning to the seasonally-appropriate theme of love, there is Mark Knopfler’s incomparable retelling of Shakespeare’s tragedy. Former English major Knopfler would have been thirty himself when he wrote Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet.” Rock lore has it that the song was inspired by his real breakup with Holly Vincent of Concrete Blonde. Incidentally, Concrete Blonde made its own contribution to the genre, Johnette Napolitano’s “I Don’t Need A Hero,” which reflects on a past affair with quiet mourning.
But “Romeo and Juliet” is the supreme ode to lost love. From the simple opening, featuring Knopfler’s trademark spare guitar, to its swelling climax and subdued ending, the song is nothing short of miraculous: it is a truly grown-up love song. It traces a love affair through the blazing passion of love at first sight, the anger of a spurned lover, and acceptance based on (dare I say it) adult understanding. Not quite the five stages of grief, but close enough for a lovelorn listener needing rock therapy.
Unless you’re a little older you probably won’t understand why the narrator’s simple explanation, “it’s just that the time was wrong,” is so wrenching. If you’re, say, nineteen, you may well believe that love conquers all. But those of us who are older and wiser have found out that timing, location, and life goals matter a great deal, and it’s nice to hear a song that acknowledges that fact. Indeed, Knopfler’s music has continued to wrestle with the difficulties of mature relationships. His duet with Emmylou Harris, “Beachcombing,” talks about broken relationships (and approaching mortality) with almost Zen serenity.
Accuse me of being old, or cynical, or both. But I’ll take a grown-up love song any day. The youth-obsessed recording industry can produce as many young starlets as it likes, and I’m sure they’ll write more interesting songs as they get older. But for now, I’d rather hear more mature artists reflecting on love, and listen to songs written for an audience which—like myself—has the personal experience to appreciate the complicated spectrum of love and loss.
