About the song
Dire Straits‘ “Sultans of Swing” is a landmark track that cemented the band’s place in rock history with its release in 1978. Written by frontman Mark Knopfler, this song is celebrated for its distinctive guitar work, intelligent lyrics, and the effortless coolness of its delivery. The track narrates the story of a down-and-out band playing in a nearly empty club, yet capturing the essence of musical passion and authenticity.
Knopfler’s intricate fingerstyle guitar technique drives the song, showcasing his exceptional skill and setting “Sultans of Swing” apart from the era’s prevailing rock sound. The clean, melodic lines and precise solos are complemented by his laid-back, almost conversational vocal style, which adds to the song’s charm and relatability. The rhythm section, with its steady groove, underpins the song, providing a solid foundation that allows Knopfler’s guitar to shine.
Lyrically, “Sultans of Swing” is a vivid narrative that paints a picture of the vibrant yet often overlooked world of live music. The band’s portrayal as the “Sultans of Swing” reflects a genuine love for music, unmarred by commercial success or mainstream appeal. This authenticity resonated with listeners and helped the song become an instant classic.
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Lyric
You get a shiver in the darkIt’s a raining in the park but meantime-South of the river you stop and you hold everythingA band is blowing Dixie, double four timeYou feel alright when you hear the music ringWell now you step inside but you don’t see too many facesComing in out of the rain they hear the jazz go downCompetition in other placesUh but the horns they blowin’ that soundWay on down southWay on down southLondon townYou check out guitar George, he knows-all the chordsMind, it’s strictly rhythm he doesn’t want to make it cry or singThey said an old guitar is all, he can affordWhen he gets up under the lights to play his thingAnd Harry doesn’t mind, if he doesn’t, make the sceneHe’s got a daytime job, he’s doing alrightHe can play the Honky Tonk like anythingSavin’ it up, for Friday nightWith the SultansWe’re the Sultans of SwingThen a crowd a young boys they’re a foolin’ around in the cornerDrunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform solesThey don’t give a damn about any trumpet playin’ bandIt ain’t what they call Rock and RollAnd the SultansYeah, the Sultans, they play CreoleCreoleAnd then the man he steps right up to the microphoneAnd says at last just as the time bell rings“Goodnight, now it’s time to go home”Then he makes it fast with one more thing“We are the SultansWe are the Sultans of Swing”