What Makes Something a Masterpiece?

What do you think?

“That is a masterpiece!” You often hear this from people who love a particular song or piece of music.

I can understand it — when I’m first wowed by something, it can feel like it’s the best thing since, well, the previous best thing. I’ve impulsively called something a masterpiece, only to reconsider later.

Does the term have a more specific meaning beyond “Oh, that’s great”? In other words, does it transcend the simple, visceral reaction that says, “I love this”?

How do you define the term, if you have a definition at all?

I have considered the possibility that this is a pointless question — what difference does it make what terms we use when talking about matters of taste? But then the nerd in me kicks in and asks, why not have a concrete definition? If a word describes something that can’t be explained any other way, isn’t that useful? My intuition says there is no good substitute for the word “masterpiece.”

That still leaves the question, what is it?

The dictionary definition generally goes, “A creation that has been given much critical praise, especially one that is considered the greatest work of a person’s career or a work of outstanding creativity, skill, profundity, or workmanship.”

Of course, the greatest work of one artist’s career might be crap compared with the average work of another artist. So, a useful definition probably needs to include, at least implicitly, some assessment of the creator’s overall oeuvre.

*****

In a previous series, I wrote about ten songs that make me stop whatever I’m doing.

Ten Songs That Make Me Drop Everything I’m Doing

and

"Ten Songs That Make Me Drop Everything Else.”

Those lists include several that I would consider masterpieces. But not all of them. “Different Drum,” recorded by Linda Ronstadt, was on the list. It is easily one of my favorite songs, but I would not call it a masterpiece. I like it more than some songs I consider masterpieces, but in my gut, I just don’t feel the term applies.

First, why do I consider “Different Drum” great? Well, there is Ronstadt’s voice, which is almost impossibly gorgeous and utterly natural from before she had formal training. Then there are the lyrics, which match the youthful innocence of her voice. It’s a breakup song, but not a mean one. It comes from a place of wide-eyed naivete that is itself heartbreaking.

Why don’t I consider “Different Drum” a masterpiece? Well, it has a stubbornly conventional structure, consisting of a few elements that repeat several times. There are no innovations in the writing or composition. The musicianship on the original recording is solid but not awe-inspiring.

It is, ultimately, a simple pop song. It has captured one of the greatest voices of all time at the perfect moment in her development, doing something that rarely happens in popular songs: She is trying to let someone down kindly.

If you want to say, “Well, that’s enough for me to call it a masterpiece!” I won’t argue. We are free to use words we like, especially concerning personal taste. I feel the need for a more concrete meaning for the term.

After thinking long about it and listening obsessively to songs I consider masterpieces, I figured out some of my criteria. Here are the things I think most masterpieces have in common:

· They take you on a journey. This can mean literally telling a story or that the song takes you through a range of emotions. Most of the “Ten Songs that Make Me Stop What I am Doing” check this box and would do so even without lyrics. The pre-rock era model for this is Ravel’s “Bolero.” “Great Gig in the Sky” is a perfect modern example.

· They explore more than one musical concept. There is a reason Beethoven’s symphonies are considered masterpieces. This is much harder to do in the short format of rock or pop songs, but it has been done.

· They are beautiful. Or at least have moments of great beauty. This is the most challenging and problematic box to check because it’s subjective. But to paraphrase the old saying: “I can’t define it, but I know it when I hear it.”

· They are innovative. Even if you use motifs written by others, you find new ways to combine those ideas into something new.

· They are performed with great skill or musicianship. Some people use the term “virtuosic.” The nerd in me likes the term “Jedi-level.”

· They may not necessarily grab you immediately, but real rewards come with repeated listening and, dare I say analysis. They do not just engage your heart but your mind as well.

…….

Why this topic now?

I ended 2024 trying to fight through writer’s block with mixed success. I finished some articles, but the process was painful and frustrating. I’m still not through it.

The reason for the block is not a mystery to me, but it will seem strange to you. It is not because of some old trauma or even a new one. It is not because I struggle with distraction, disappointment, or creative drought. It is not connected with something negative at all.

I had a peak experience as a music fan a few months ago, and I don’t know how to process it. The band that brought on this situation is not the greatest band of all time. They would have to perform at their current level for several more years to earn a shot at that honor, and there is some stiff competition.

However, in their short existence, they have demonstrated a knack for something unique: They are a masterpiece factory. That is not a requirement for being a great band — some of the greatest never managed even one! But it is damn special and a little scary.

I found myself wanting to write about this, and unable to.

So I decided to try something: I will go back in time and look at some older songs I consider true masterpieces. That will give me a frame of reference for writing about what I witnessed recently. It is also a chance to revisit songs that changed everything for me and, I suspect, for many people.

…….

I chose three songs to start with.

They are all from the early years of rock’s Golden Age. Interestingly, none of them was initially my favorite song by a particular artist. In fact, I initially didn’t even like one of them!

The Doors “The End” (1967)

It was winter when “The Doors” was released. I was a kid, doing kid stuff with my brother or with the neighbors. I was at that stage where young people start to become conscious. It just happened to correspond with the world exploding in so many directions — the war, the civil rights movement, psychedelic art, rock music, and the Apollo missions.

Much of the music was about love and sunshine and hope, even in the midst of all the fear and anger triggered by Vietnam and by the violent backlash against Black civil rights.

Then, into the middle of all the sunshine and hallucinatory imagery, stepped the Doors. They just sounded different. Haunted. Even their love songs sounded dark and twisted. I had had childhood crushes but was too young to have experienced anything like love or romance. The Doors opened a door into what that might be like, and what they showed us was scary.

“The End” has many interpretations, none very hopeful. That is so Doors. At a time when “Light My Fire” was taking the airwaves by storm, “The End” had to lurk in the background, gradually working its way into our consciousness. It did that with me. It took many listens over the years for me to appreciate it as the masterpiece it is.

Technically, the song traverses a range of sounds and textures. Parts of it are quintessential acid rock. Parts of it are spoken words. All of it is in minor scales, contributing to the haunted feeling. I still get shivers hearing it.

The Beatles “A Day in the Life” (1967)

It was spring when “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” was released. The Summer of Love was just around the corner, and Sgt. Pepper would supply a big part of the soundtrack.

I loved Sgt. Pepper, though it would be years before I understood much of it. The one song that eluded me was the last one. “A Day In the Life” did not seem to fit with the rest of the album, and to my kid self, it seemed a downer of an ending. Yet it was oddly hypnotic. I found myself having nightmares about the poor guy who died waiting for the light to change.

This has probably been the most analyzed and debated Beatles song of all. It was a true collaboration among all the band members, with Lennon and McCartney contributing different sections to a whole that, to this day, feels like an opera in three acts. The build to that final chord, and then the chord itself, are one of the most inspired and inspiring moments in rock history.

The Beatles are my favorite band of all time, which is about as unique as liking puppies or ice cream. They wrote, recorded, and published some 230 songs, almost all memorable, and most are remembered. No musical artist I know of even comes close to such a record. Yet, I venture to say they only produced one masterpiece, “A Day In The Life.”

…..

Patti Smith “Horses” (1975)

I didn’t immediately “get” Patti Smith. Her only commercial hit was “Because the Night,” which I didn’t like when it came out in 1978 and still don’t like. Ok, so crucify me, but I think it’s dumb and boring, and she sounds terrible. I knew college classmates who had her albums, but whatever I heard of her music was filtered through the haze of party noise and illegal substances.

It wasn’t until years later that I circled back and took the opportunity to listen to Smith’s 1975 album “Horses.” It was like being hit by a bomb. What had I missed?

Smith is now, of course, revered as one of the major poets, songwriters, and performance artists of our time. She is known as the Godmother of Punk and continues to influence musicians, artists, and writers in many genres.

Ironically, her initial idea was not to be an artist but to be a muse. She had relationships with many of the leading lights of the art, music, and theatre world, including Robert Mapplethorpe, Sam Shephard, and Allen Lanier, and even married one of them (Fred Smith of the band MC5).

Smith ended up recording and releasing over a dozen albums (there may be more to come), published some thirty books, and has received numerous honors and inclusions in various “best of” lists. The amusing thing about all the establishment accolades is that she remains about as anti-establishment as you can get.

This is the title track from Smith’s first album, “Horses.” The world was already under siege by three-minute, content-free songs, so it took courage, perhaps obliviousness, to do something like this.

…….

Postscript

I have a list of rock songs that qualify as masterpieces. It’s not a long list, and as I said even some of my favorite songs are not there. Writing about these three has helped me crystallize what makes something worthy of that title.

But the question remains: does it matter?

For me, it matters because it speaks to artistic aspiration. I see art as the highest calling humans are capable of. It is the main thing that distinguishes us from species like termites. Termites do everything people do (such as build cities, make war, mate, farm, enslave other insects, commit regicide, migrate, invest, cooperate, communicate, and more…) The only exception, to my knowledge, is art. Termites don’t seem to make art.

Composers and performers of music have a gift that most people can only dream of. Yet that is not enough. It takes a special drive to make the most of that gift, especially in a world that often does not appreciate it. Part of that drive is the willingness to discard one’s own inferior work and start over if that’s what it takes to achieve greatness.

We all have our tastes in music (and in everything else). So, we will all have our own notions of what makes a masterpiece. I’ve shared some thoughts on this here.

How do you define a masterpiece, if you have a definition at all? Can you name a few songs that make the grade? How did they affect your life and the way you hear music? Please share your thoughts in the comments. I’d love it if you invite others into the conversation!