Humorous songs have probably been around for almost as long as humans have been making music. From Weird Al Yankovic to the bizarre songs that get passed around on social media, comical tunes combine two pleasures: music and laughter.
While there’s plenty of fodder for posts on humor in music, I’m going to pick four of my favorite musical humorists to highlight in this post. I’ll start with the two that my readers are most likely to know and move on to two who are more obscure.
Peter Schickele/P.D.Q. Bach
I almost left Peter Schickele out of this post. I figured that everyone who loves classical music already knows about him, and those who don’t won’t care about him. In the end, I couldn’t omit him — it would be like leaving J.R.R. Tolkien off a list of fantasy authors. And maybe I’m wrong about his popularity, and I will actually lead someone new to discover his work!
Schickele is the humorist for people who love classical music. More than 50 years ago he created the character P.D.Q. Bach, supposedly the last of Johann Sebastian Bach’s many children. Since then, he has composed an enormous body of work under P.D.Q. Bach’s name. Nothing is sacred. Schickele shamelessly steals music from other composers with no regard to the era in which it was composed. One composition might incorporate references to Schubert, J.S. Bach, a folk song, and a television theme song.
For many Schickele fans, one of the best things about his P.D.Q. Bach compositions is his creative instrumentation. He’s used balloons, bicycles, mailing tubes, and wine bottles, among many other common objects. Even better, he’s invented instruments like the tromboon, a combination of a trombone and a bassoon, which Schickele describes as having “all of the disadvantages of both in one easy-to-schlep instrument.”
Schickele’s work extends beyond his P.D.Q. Bach compositions. He’s composed other humorous music under his own name, such as “Horse Opera for Brass Quintet,” as well as serious work, such as the film score for Silent Running. For several years he also had a radio program, Schickele Mix, which explored commonalities between several different musical pieces. One episode might include the last movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, an aria from Mozart’s “Le Nozze di Figaro,” Strauss’ “Blue Danube” waltz, “Me & Bobby McGee,” “Mambo No. 8,” a traditional polka, and several other songs, ranging from classical to popular music.
I don’t think anyone could achieve what Schickele has done without knowing music inside and out. If by any chance, you do not know Schickele, and if you enjoy any classical musical at all, I encourage you to take the time to listen to some of his vast body of work.
Tom Lehrer
I also debated including Tom Lehrer on this list. Again, who doesn’t know him? But I felt that leaving him out would be as much a crime as leaving out Schickele.
Lehrer is probably best known for his song “The Elements” — a list of the elements on the periodic table set to Gilbert and Sullivan’s “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General.”
A mathematics professor, Lehrer wrote a few other academic compositions, including “New Math.” But Lehrer is at his best when he’s being a little wicked — wicked enough that several of his songs were banned in different countries. His earliest songs were mostly just for fun, such as his popular “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park.”
When they see us coming,
The birdies all try and hide
But they still go for peanuts
When coated with cyanide.
In the 1960s, he was hired to write songs for That Was the Week That Was, so many of his songs became more political or news-related. He didn’t hesitate to skewer anyone on the right or left as he sang songs about the folk song movement, censorship, pollution, nuclear proliferation, and the Second Vatican Council.
First we got the bomb, and that was good,
‘Cause we love peace and motherhood.
From “Who’s Next?”
In the early 1970s, Lehrer created a handful of songs (a couple of which he sang) for The Electric Company. Soon after that, he decided to leave music behind. He didn’t write very many songs during the period he was an active musician, but much of what he wrote is gold.
Flanders and Swann
Now we’re entering into more unfamiliar territory. English musicians Michael Flanders and Donald Swann attended school together, where they wrote a musical revue in 1940. They began working together again in 1948. They wrote and performed as a comedy duo until 1967. Because their careers overlapped quite a bit with Lehrer’s, I can’t help but compare them to him. When I think of Lehrer, I think of a man with a wicked sense of humor. When I think of Flanders and Swann, I think of a pair who were masters of a gentler and sillier kind of comedy. After all, some of their best-known songs are the inoffensive and very singable “The Hippopotamus” and their amusing take on the finale of Mozart’s Horn Concerto No. 4, “Ill Wind.”
But while they may not have written an ode to smut like Lehrer did (at least, not as far as I know), Flanders and Swann weren’t all sweetness and innocence. Their song “Have Some Madeira, M’Dear,” is dark and disturbing, particularly in light of the #metoo movement.
That song aside, the pair had other things in common with Lehrer. Their songs included political satire (“All Gall” poked fun at Charles de Gaulle) and references to nuclear proliferation, although their “20 Tons of TNT” is far more somber than Lehrer’s “Who’s Next?”
Children have no need of sharing;
At each new nativity
Come the ghostly Magi bearing
Twenty tons of TNT.
And, like Lehrer, the duo even turned to science for inspiration.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtEqn-5XHpU
I’m not sure that Flanders and Swann’s work has aged as well as Lehrer’s, which may account for their relative obscurity compared to him, even though they were far more prolific. But if they are new to you, you owe it yourself to look up some of their songs. Start with “The Gasman Cometh” and, if you enjoy classical music or ever played an instrument, “Ill Wind.” And if you have preschool-aged children, introduce them to some of Flanders and Swann’s animal songs — definitely “The Hippopotamus,” as well “The Gnu,” “The Warthog,” and “The Sloth.”
Anna Russell
Before there was Peter Schickele, there was Anna Russell. Not successful in opera or as a folk singer, Russell found her true calling when she started performing musical parody. Like Schickele, Russell is best appreciated by those who know classical music, though she also made references to subjects such as folk music and beat poetry (with jazz accompaniment).
While all of the performers I’ve listed here did a little spoken word performance, at least in terms of introductions, Russell’s work is a mix of music and spoken word. Her album Anna Russell, Encore? includes “The French Horn” and “How to Enjoy Your Bagpipe,” which are “lectures” on instruments. Other pieces are a combination of spoken word and music, such as her demonstration of lieder.
If you’re a fan of Schickele and don’t know Russell, you definitely should explore her work. And if you enjoy classical music but think too many people take it far too seriously, you will love Russell. Many of her albums can be purchased or streamed on Amazon and iTunes.