Montage 2: Nothing Lyrics
Montage 2: Nothing
DIANA (speaks).so excited because I'm gonna go to the High School of Performing Arts. I mean, I was dying to be a serious actress. Anyway, it's the first day of acting class and we're in the auditorium, and the teacher, Mr. Karp, puts us up on the stage with our legs around everybody; one in back of the other. And he says, "Okay, we're gonna do improvisations. Now, you're on a bob sled and it's snowing out and it's cold. Okay, go!
(sings)
Ev'ry day for a week we would try to feel the motion, feel the motion down the hill.
Ev'ry day for a week we would try to hear the wind rush, hear the wind rush, feel the chill.
And I dug right down to the bottom of my soul to see what I had inside.
Yes, I dug right down to the bottom of my soul and I tried, I tried.
(speaks)
Everyone is going "Woosh I feel the snow, I feel the cold I feel the air." And Mr. Karp turns to me and says: "Okay, Morales, what did you feel "
(sings)
And I said, "Nothing, I'm feeling nothing,"
And he says, "Nothing could get a girl transferred!"
They all felt something, but I felt nothing
Except the feeling that this bullshit was absurd!
(speaks)
But I said to myself: "Hey!, it's only the first week. Maybe it's genetic.
They don't have bob sleds in San Juan."
(sings)
Second week, more advanced and we had to be a table, be a sports car ice cream cone.
Mr. Karp, he would say, "Very good, except Morales. Try, Morales, all alone."
So I dug right down to the bottom of my soul to see how an ice cream felt.
Yes, I dug right down to the bottom of my soul and I tried to melt.
The kids yelled, "Nothing!" They called me "Nothing!" And Karp allowed it, which really makes me burn.
They were so helpful. They called me hopeless. Until I really didn't know where else to turn!
(speaks)
And Karp kept saying, "Morales, I think you should transfer to girls' high. You'll never be an actress. Never! Jesus Christ!
(sings)
Went to church praying, "Santa Maria, send me guidance, send me guidance. " On my knees.
Went to church praying, "Santa Maria, help me feel it, help me feel it. Pretty please. "
And a voice from down at the bottom of my soul cam up to the top of my head.
And the voice from down at the bottom of my soul, here is what it said:
"This man is nothing! This course is nothing! If you want something, go find a better class.
And when you find one, you'll be an actress." And I assure you that's what fin'lly came to pass.
Six months later I heard that Karp had died.
So I dug right down to the bottom of my soul and cried,
'cause I felt nothing.
(speaks)
I didn't want him to die or anything, but
Song Overview
Review and Highlights
Quick summary
- Character spotlight for Diana Morales inside the four-part Montage in A Chorus Line, here sung by Natalie Cortez on the 2006 revival album.
- The new cast recording runs roughly six minutes forty-six seconds - a touch roomier than some earlier releases, with a tighter pop profile.
- Produced for the label’s Broadway imprint with modern studio polish; recorded at Skywalker Sound, then mixed for clarity around the patter and punchlines.
- The story stays the same: a young actor rejects a teacher’s dogma and claims her own compass.
- Context threads to other Montage pieces, including Don’s strip-club anecdote and Val’s body politics - the whole adolescence chapter in four linked scenes.
Creation History
“Nothing” began life as Kleban’s sharp classroom monologue set to Hamlisch’s clean engine - text first, groove second. The 2006 revival took that chassis and rebuilt it with studio tools that didn’t exist in 1975. Producer David Caddick presided over a session that zeroed in on intelligibility and pace. Natalie Cortez’s delivery sits right on the front edge of the beat, supported by rhythm-section punctuation and bright reed interjections. The decision to track the album at Skywalker Sound gave the team lush room tone and surgical control; Todd Whitelock’s mix keeps the comic edges crisp while letting the accompaniment breathe.
On the track list, this is Montage, Part 2 - the hinge between adolescent chaos and adult clarity. You can hear the album’s through-line: Part 1’s hormonal fog, Part 2’s rebellion, Part 3’s parental echoes, Part 4’s athletic release. In this cut, the revival band plays it straighter than the 1975 pit - fewer woolly corners, more click-track discipline - which helps the story punch through in home listening.
Highlights and key takeaways
- Talk-singing as percussion. The spoken set-ups tumble into pitched patter, and the consonants function like hi-hats. It is theatre jazz with a reporter’s cadence.
- Satire with a center. The number pokes at acting-class ritual while centering one student’s right to say “no.” The heat is earned, not flashy.
- Recording choices matter. A tight studio spread and close vocal mic let every jab land - especially the brittle classroom exchanges.
- Montage physics. Because the four parts trade themes and props, Diana’s story radiates outward - it sets up Val’s body song and ricochets off Don’s backstage lore.
Song Meaning and Annotations
Plot
Diana lands at the High School of Performing Arts determined to be “serious.” Her teacher, Mr. Karp, drills the class in sensation-by-decree: sled rides, car bodies, melting ice cream. Everybody performs their way into feeling. Diana feels the pressure - and the lie. Classmates tag her as “nothing,” the teacher backs them up, and she spirals into doubt. A church bench and some honest listening later, she trusts her own crew - the voice in her head - and exits the course. When she hears Karp has died months later, she’s surprised by her numbness. The kicker lands quietly: “I cried… ’cause I felt nothing.”
Song Meaning
This is a boundary song. The revival arrangement keeps the comic sparkle, but the thesis is hard-nosed: performative “truth” is not truth. The character refuses to counterfeit sensation to please a gatekeeper. That choice - to value internal feedback over applause cues - is the training most artists eventually learn, usually the hard way. In the album’s Montage arc, her clarity slices through the hormone haze, the peer noise, and the cultural pressure to nod along.
Annotations
“Twin forty-fours.”
Don’s side-story surfaces here in the Montage. The line is a locker-room joke about a coworker’s chest - a tacky metric of allure. Yes, the gag implies implants; the point is not the surgery, it is the adolescent scoreboard. The 2006 album trims the leer with pace, letting the cringe register without derailing Diana’s scene.
“Tits! When am I gonna grow tits?”
This blink-and-you-miss-it quip plants a seed for Val’s feature number, better known in print as “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three.” The revival’s clean indexing makes that foreshadowing easy to hear. In the four-part Montage, throwaway lines often pre-load later payoffs, and this one fires right on time.
Deep-dive analysis
Genre and engine
Call it Broadway patter with a chamber-pop finish. The revival’s pulse sits near the mid-70s BPM, which leaves room for rubato in the spoken beats and a locked grid