Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Nothing Songs

As an amateur songwriter, I can honestly say I've written some bad tunes in my day. You know, the kind of song that's so ripe that fish wrapped in newspaper say, "WHOA, what the hell's that smell?" However, one thing I can honestly say I steadfastly resist at all costs is writing the "nothing song."

For those of you who don't know what I mean by the term "nothing song," I mean something that's even worse than bad: a nebulous ball of chords and notes with no compelling reason to exist, other than (usually) financial gain. The nothing song, as I define it, isn't bad OR good; it's just… THERE.

You've definitely heard nothing songs even if you think you haven't. Nothing songs can be competent, tuneful, pleasant, and even catchy. They often go down pretty easy. However, they also tend to be depressingly generic and nondescript. They tend to follow in the wake of hundreds (if not thousands) of songs with a similar sound before them. Simply stated, a nothing song is inoffensive enough, but you have to ask yourself while listening, "Did this REALLY need to be written? Is this adding anything important or significant to the already billions and billions of songs out there?"

And they don't have to be love ballads or soft rock songs, either. Even songs with loud, angry guitars or surly, wailing vocals can qualify for nothing-hood by virtue of their inconsequential nature.

I know what a lot of you are thinking: "You're talking about POP songs man! It's supposed to be disposable fun! Lighten up!" To which I reply, with a derisive snort, "PURE BUNK!" (Heh.) There are plenty of disposable "pop" (or "rock") songs which are fun and catchy as well as smart, unique and innovative. Just because something is classified as a "pop song" doesn't mean it gets a free pass to be non-inspiring, derivative dross.

When I hear a song, all I want is some sort of sign - however muted - that the artists involved might have actually gotten worked up or cared about the notes they were laying down, and that they didn't bolt from the studio 5 seconds later and make a beeline for the bank deposit window.

This is why a nothing song can truly be worse, in a sense, than a flat-out BAD song. At least with (some) bad songs you get the distinct impression that someone really cared about what they were doing. At least with (some) bad songs you feel the passion and effort that went into making it, however atrocious the final result may be. And sometimes, amidst all the utter awfulness of a bad song, you can still catch glimmers of inspiration and creativity that nearly carry the tune and save it from outright suckiness.

Nothing songs, on the other hand, usually have no personality, charm or vitality to speak of, because they tend to be homogenized within an inch of their commercialized lives. Any and all impurities are methodically distilled out of them, and they have no real spice or spark propelling them along. Hell, they have no real reason for being at all!!! And, more often than not, the producers of nothing songs try to hide the nothing status behind immaculate production, tried-and-true chord changes or a clear, powerful singing voice. But don't be fooled! These songs are sheer black holes of sound, sucking up precious vibrations in the air.

Basically, the goal of the nothing song is to be as innocuous and inoffensive as possible while simultaneously appealing to as many people as it can reach. The end result of this delicate balancing act is usually a reasonable, but ultimately unsatisfying, aural concoction which most people describe in terms like "not bad," "is what it is," "gets the job done," or "pleasant enough."

Think about it: Do those sound like good reasons for any song to exist?

Friday, March 26, 2010

Fallacies and Myths #1: Serious Songwriters Only Write "Serious Songs"

It seems like there are a ton of wrong-headed ideas floating around when it comes to songwriting. Some of them are more potentially damaging than others, but I believe they all inhibit the ability of artists to write the best songs they possibly can.

In fact, some of the more prevalent myths and fallacies about songwriting (and other forms of artistic expression) have become so ingrained in our culture that we just take them for granted and don't even notice them anymore.

The first step to "recovery," I think, is recognizing some of the more crippling and widely held beliefs. Hopefully, by exposing these fallacies, we can shine a little more light on their illogical or harmful nature, thereby debunking them and loosening their grip on songwriters, musicians, and listeners alike.

So let's get right to it with our first songwriting fallacy...

Fallacy #1: Serious songwriters only write/sing/play about serious things.

Hands down, this has to be one of the most wide-spread and potentially stifling beliefs out there. This is why we have so many people writing about pain and suffering and trying to sound either melancholy, enraged, or just plain "deep," even when they don't feel that way or have nothing to say about the chosen subject. Choose this route and you narrowly run the risk of lapsing into self-parody.

Somewhere along the line, pop culture gave a lot of people the idea that in order to be a real "artist" you must only concern yourself with "weighty" matters. Many people think if you don't sound like you're ready to off yourself at any second, or sing about political unrest and suffering, then you MUST be a frivolous person who has nary a thought rattling around in your hollow skull. Pure bunk.

The truth is this: The secret to being a great writer is being serious about expressing your art and your vision, NOT making "serious art" just because that's what you think you have to do.

Seriously.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

If the Rhyme Fits, It Don't Mean Quit

Have you ever been driving along, minding your own business, lost in reverie, wondering if today is the day that your car suddenly acceleates to 120 mph on its own, when ALL OF A SUDDEN you become acutely aware of the lyrics to the song on the radio?

Sure you have. More specifically, you become aware of a line or two that makes you think, "Hmmm, I'll bet the writer only used that word right there because it rhymed." For example, you might hear something like:

 "Oh, she was his one desire, the one who took him higher..."

A line like that, aside from being cliched and sort of banal, is one of those lines that the author probably used because it was an easy rhyme and it "fit." Sometimes writers reach for easy rhymes because they want something simple and accessible to sing, but that's a fine line to walk because if you're not saying anything at least semi-interesting, you're also flirting with being forgettable. (Have you ever tried to memorize a song made up of a bunch of strung-together cliches? It ain't that easy.)

The desired goal, at least when it comes to pop songs, is to balance the familiar, simple and common with the unique, clever and compelling. Not so easy when you think about it!  So rather than immediately settling on the first words that "fit," see if you can come up with a rhyme that actually expresses what you want to say. But be careful; you don't want to replace a cliche with something that sounds forced, awkward, hokey or contrived. The ley is to actually say something intriguing while STILL being relatively straight forward and catchy. In other words, you wouldn't want to change the line to something like:

 "Oh, she was his one desire, got him caught in a love quagmire..."

just because you're trying to be "clever." That lyric just plain sucks, in more ways then one. However, you COULD try to change the initial lyric to something like:

"Oh, she was his one desire, another object to acquire..."

The words are still ordinary, everyday words, but "object" and "acquire" are used a little less frequently in pop music, and have a little extra panache. However, they still sound like something someone might actually say off the top of their head. Not only that, but now the lyric is telling us something. With just those few simple words, the listener can start getting all sorts of mental images of these characters. (The guy sounds like a douche, to me.)

This is not to say you can't play around with more exotic rhymes. It all depends on songwriting context or what sort of "feel" you're going for. Just be aware that what sounds fanciful and clever in one setting can sound awfully stodgy and stilted in another. For example, if you're going for a more literate, broadway-influenced feel, you could try something along the lines of:

"Oh, she was his one desire, with roses and candy he plied her..."

but, in general, you'll want to stay away from language like "plied her" if you're writing, say, top 40 dance tunes.

I also don't mean to suggest that you can never develop a unique "voice" or use stream-of-consciousness imagery. In fact - and we should get this out of the way right now - there are ALWAYS goung to be exceptions to the "rules," but unless you're a super-genius like Mozart, it's probably a good to get an idea of what tends to work and what doesn't. It's because there IS a logic to strong songwriting that the brilliant exceptions work so well.

So take this as a general rule of thunb: Don't quickly settle on the first rhyme that pops into your head, just because it's easy and obvious. It can come across as kind of weak, and even worse, it can draw attention to itself and pull the listener out of the song. Try coming up with something equally straightforward but a little closer to what you're trying to express (and if you don't yet know WHAT you're trying to express, that's a whole 'nother issue for a whole 'nother post).

Besides, you can always go back to your original rhyme if you feel that it truly captures the thought or the passion and immediacy you were looking for. Heck, there have been many times that I've gone with a working lyric or two because the rewrites didn't quite fit the mood. Just don't be sloppy or lazy about it, because lots of lyrics you think were just "tossed off" someone's head were actually painstakingly refined for maxiumum effectiveness.

Now get back to driving. You wanna get in an accident or something? Sheeesh.
                        

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Chatting Up a Bird: The Ray Davies Songwriting Method

We're gonna be bandying about lots of original ideas here on Tune Tipster, but for our inaugural blog I thought I'd defer to one of the greatest songwriters of all time, Mr. Ray Davies of The Kinks. Whenever I'm working on a (pop) song I often think of the way Davies described his first major hit, "You Really Got Me." On more than one occasion he has likened the structure of "You Really Got Me" to the way someone tries to "chat up" a woman (or man) in a club or bar.



What did the head Kink mean by that? Well, simply put, when it comes to pop music, you quite often only have two or three minutes (if you're lucky!) to make a good impression on the listener, and you damn well better have a GREAT opening line.

Musically speaking, that is exactly what "You Really Got Me" has - a punchy opening riff that demands your attention and makes you curious about what's coming next! Think of it as meeting an attractive member of the opposite sex and starting off with a great joke. You wouldn't launch into a long, rambling tale about where you grew up and how your parents didn't love you enough. That would be crazy!

There will be plenty of time for deep stories and introspection LATER if everything goes well. The same goes for songwriting, metaphorically speaking. If  you have a song with a long, moody two-minute intro that you passionately feel needs to be heard, you can put it on your first full-length album, because whoever's listening is probably already interested in what you have to say. (Think about how your poor wife or husband listens to all your inane prattling; after all, where are THEY going? Nowhere! That's where!)

However, when you're a relative unknown, you want to grab people's attention quick and give them a reason to STICK AROUND for the deeper stuff. And none of this is meant to suggest your "opening line" has to be goofy, shallow, slick, or stupid. There are many simple, direct jokes (and many simple, direct musical hooks) which hint at greater depth and complexity. That's the type of opening salvo you want to strive for: something that "really gets" the listener going.

But you gotta get someone's attention first.