Christgau Fancy Word(s) of the Day: Sturm und Drang

One of several features I plan to include in this blog is the Christgau Word of the Day. (No, I don't plan on having a Christgau Word of the Day every day.)

The point of this feature is to find words, usually those classified by the less-literate (like myself) as "S.A.T. words" (regardless of whether they would actually appear on an S.A.T. exam), that Christgau uses and which might be one reason his reviews infuriate so many people.

Today's word, which is actually a group of words, is Sturm und Drang.

Sturm und Drang loosely if not accurately translated as "storm and stress," is one of those foreign-language phrases, like "je ne c'est pas," that can put you within a range of pretentiousness based on how "foreign" you pronounce the words:

• sterm: not very pretentious (and you'll receive snoots from upturned noses, depending on your audience)
• schterm: mildly pretentious
• schhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhterm: very pretentious

The phrase, which is title-capped in most reference books but is often written in all lowercase, is attributed to the German romantic literary movement of the late 18th century. What's that, you say? You're not very familiar with the works of German romantic literary movement of the late 18th century? One way to describe Sturm und Drang, to paraphrase a BBC program on the subject, is "a heart with balls."

In other words (English words), a protagonist who's male, headstrong and impulsive, often at his own expense. The kind of guy who ladies would swoon over and guys would maybe enjoy a beer with but whose schemes — "I'm going to write I LOVE YOU SUSAN on top of the water tower in my own blood. Can you hold the ladder?" — you'd want to steer clear of.



Sturm und Drang appears some 17 times (including duplicates) on Robert Christgau's site, notably in his A+ review of Wild Honey, which I recently discussed, in which the Dean of American Rock Critics asks:

And what does it set out to do? To convey the troubled innocence of the Beach Boys through a time of attractive but perilous psychedelic sturm und drang.

Considering the history of the Beach Boys, particularly the tortured lives (and in the case of Dennis, death) of the Brothers Wilson, Sturm und Drang is an apt description.

We also see Sturm und Drang in describing the saxophonist David S. Ware's A- album Surrendered:

Saxophone Sturm und Drang.

Although I don't keep tabs on postpunk's favorite free saxophonist, this is much the most confident of the three albums I know. With virtuosity and ease, he and a quartet balanced by pianist Matthew Shipp naturalize the sturm und drang of the post-Coltrane '60s. It's got a pulse, it's got a voice, it's got some heads. It's got unflagging energy. So what's to be scared of? A little noise?

Here's a video of one of the tracks, which the YouTube user accompanied with a video from a film I've never heard of. I prefer to listen to the audio and ignore the video, but anyway, this is a very Sturm und Drangy (is that an adjective?) song:

I'll admit that I can't much get into jazz (which will prove problematic because several Christgau A+ albums are jazz), but I do enjoy this track, which is "Glorified Calypso," by the way.

After sifting through the duplicate mentions of the phrase, I determined that the only other Consumer Guide mention of Sturm und Drang appears in a review of The Best of Delaney & Bonnie:

Bonnie was the songwriter and the terrific singer, Delaney the bandleader and the real good singer. Theirs was a marriage made on Sunset Strip, where two Southerners' displaced rural conservatism met the counterculture's exaltation of earthtone authenticity in an image of hippie adulthood that lasted till the divorce was underway in 1972 (shortly after they agreed to dispense with Bonnie's live-in lover on the unbelievably tender "Move 'Em Out"). Their conjugal sturm-und-drang was "a natural fact," the most canny and heartfelt and effortless rock-soul fusion in history. Their solo careers were a depressing embarrassment.

How would you like to read that your solo career was "a depressing embarrassment"? Makes you wanna go all Sturm and Drang, I'll bet.

One more notable mention of Sturm and Drang appears in a non-Consumer Guide article about Bette Midler. Before she became the Bette Midler most of us know from stage and screen and song, she was singing at a gay bathhouse with Barry Manilow, and no I'm not making that up. I knew all that already from some Behind the Music show from many years ago (#humblebrag), and Christgau wrote an article for Newsday in 1972 that described her performance at The Bitter End, a Bleecker Street rock institution that's still in operation:

The tour de force was her final selection, the Shangri-Las' "Leader of the Pack," which she interpreted as the great exploration of the conflict of love and authority I had always known it was. Sure its tragic overstatement was silly--viewed in perspective, adolescent breakups hardly warrant such sturm und drang, even when parent-induced. But for both artists and audience, the emotional reality went beyond the facts. Bette had the compassion to respect that emotion.

I suggest you read the entire article. It's a great look at an artist Before She Was (More) Famous, and you can almost replace "Bette Midler" with "Madonna" or "Lady Gaga," not in terms of the kinds of songs she performed, but in contemplating this perceptive Christgau question:

For several years now, those who live their lives by music have been waiting for a new miracle worker, someone to bring us together again. Elvis in 1955, the Beatles in 1964, and who in 1973? Not Bette Midler?