One of the big secrets to writing effective pop music is consistency. In fact, I believe this is one of the MOST important skills an aspiring songwriter can master, but still one of the most overlooked.
By consistency I mean that certain elements of your song need to remain relatively stable as in order to give the impression of a cohesive whole. In general, your tone, theme, mood, subject matter, voice and point of view should all stay within a certain "range" and any wild musical or lyrical shifts ought to be the result of carefully considered design as opposed to haphazard chance.
How many times have you been on youtube and listened to an original song with lyrics all over the map? How many times have you listened to a new song that was pleasant enough but it feels oddly bipolar or schizophrenic (and not in a good way)? How about songs that start off with solid, concrete imagery, then lapse into the realm of the abstract, before finally turning into a jumble of clichés? Many of these problems can be traced to a lack of consistency.
Here are some of the more important types of consistency to keep in mind while writing "pop" songs.
1) Consistency between lyrics and music.
All else being equal, you want your music to roughly match the feel of your lyrics. You might have some great words you're just DYING to use, but don't assume you can just randomly graft them onto the first catchy melody you come up with. If your melody sounds like a sweet lullaby, combining it with a political dissertation on war in the Middle East won't work 99 out of 100 times. Listen to your music. What's it saying? Listen to your lyrics. What music expresses the emotion therein?
With this in mind, I am fully aware of the way a writer might use tools like irony to pair a happy melody with a sad lyric, and vice versa. Or perhaps a writer could employ mechanical beats to provide dynamic contrast or undercut a particularly passionate lyric. These types of maneuvers require a particularly deft touch, however, and most of the time they play off the consistency our ears expect.
2) Consistency of Pronoun Use
Unless you're deliberately obscuring your lyrics for some artistic reason, you want to be clear on who did what to whom, and where and when it happened. Too often I read lyrics and I can't figure out what the hell's going on because the pronouns are either shifting or unclear to begin with. Did "he" run off with "her" brother? Or are "you" running off with "him" because some OTHER "she" betrayed "us" both? Just like normal writing, you want your pronouns to be clear and consistent.
3) Consistency of Tense
Hoo boy. Here's another common trap that writers fall into: The song starts off in the present ("He's driving all night, looking for his girl..."), then shifts to the past at some point ("Then he FOUND her in that diner..."), then back to the present for a second verse, and then suddenly we're in the past again! Unless you're HG Wells, you want to avoid all the funky time travelling, especially when describing a specific event at a specific point in time. If the song's events are in the past, keep them in the past. If they're happening in the present, keep it in the present.
Of course, there are songs that start out describing the past ("I went out searching") before moving into the present to describe something that's happening now ("…but NOW I have you"). However, it's still vital that you keep the tenses consistent with the song's narrative time line, and any switch in tense should be clear and logical.
4) Consistency of Voice.
Whatever voice you start the song with, that's the one you want to carry throughout (unless you have a thematic reason for switching). So, for example, if your "voice" is happy, conversational, and uses "everyday" language, don't abruptly switch over to angry, professorial or pretentious language in your chorus. This seems like obvious stuff, but too often people get tripped up trying to make a line work where it plainly doesn't, just because they're enamored with a particular phrase. Writers need to learn to sacrifice parts (even parts we love) for the good of a song's overall consistency.
More to come…
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Downplaying the V Chord, or Death Cab Vs. The Dominant Five!
A lot of budding songwriters ask me how they can make their tunes less "obvious." In other words, they want to avoid those moments where the song seems to be screaming out, "GET READY, 'CAUSE HERE COMES THE CHORUS!!!!"
While that type of predictably is sometimes a good thing - it makes a song especially easy to reemember and sing - there are other times when you want to be a bit more surprising. There are myriad ways to achieve that kind of subtlety, but one of the best ways I know is what I call "downplaying the V chord."
As you probably know, the V chord and the V7 chord have a very strong pull toward the tonic. For example, if you play a G7 chord in the key of C, the listener has a very strong expectation of hearing a C chord next. When you couple a G7 chord with a very "climactic" high note, this can reinforce the listener's expectations even more. So here a few simple ways you can take the "edge" off of the V chord, thwart the listener's expectations, and create musical complexity.
1) Replace the tonic with a subsitute chord.
After playing a V chord (G in the key of C), you can easily surprise the listener by moving to, say, vii (A minor in the key of C) or iii (E minor in the key of C) instead of going to the I chord (C major).
2) Modulate to a whole new key.
You can pretty much modulate anywhere when the V chord falls at the end of the pre-chorus. If your pre-chorus ends on G (V) and your chorus begins on C (I), experiment with writing a new chorus in any one of these keys, for starters: D major, E flat, or A flat. (Then try to return to C for the next verse or section.)
3) Hit a "down" note on the dominant V chord, or an "up" note on a tonic I.
Structure your melody so it dips down when the harmony is soaring "up" in anticipation of the chorus. Conversely, try hitting a high "dramatic" note when you play the stereotypically "peaceful and at rest" tonic. For example, in my song "Send me a Sign," the bridge ends on a V chord (C major, in this case) before returning to the main progression of I - flat VII - IV - I. (F, E flat, B flat, F). However, the melody dips DOWN on the last couple of bars of the V chord, before soaring up for the I chord (which is actually the beginning of the next section.)
4) Ditch the V altogether!
Lots of songs gain their power from a certain amount of tonal ambiguity, flirting with other keys or medieval modes. By avoiding certain chords (or using them sparingly) you can make your songs more mysterious, moody and subtle. For example, Roxy Music's "Mother of Pearl" has a whole second section which consists solely of D - A - E - E (flat VII - IV- I, also known as a double plagal cadence) repeating over and over. This gives the song an almost mystical, trance-like feel which is well-suited to the song. Or, consider Death Cab for Cutie's "Soul Meets Body" which employs only three chords: D minor, F and C, to be exact. On first insepection, the song appears to be in D minor natural or D dorian, (or possibly even C major or F major, based on chords alone) but by carefully skirting the "A7" the song retains an elusive, "ghostly" feel - again mirroring the lyrics quite nicely. For practice, try writing your own song that eschews the traditional V and V7 chords.
With just these few tips and ideas in mind, you're ready to start writing far more nuanced songs. Once you've mastered the art of writing "less obvious" melodies and chord progressions you can even mix things up by alternating between the straightforward, on-the-nose stuff and the more subtle material - sometimes within the same song.
While that type of predictably is sometimes a good thing - it makes a song especially easy to reemember and sing - there are other times when you want to be a bit more surprising. There are myriad ways to achieve that kind of subtlety, but one of the best ways I know is what I call "downplaying the V chord."
As you probably know, the V chord and the V7 chord have a very strong pull toward the tonic. For example, if you play a G7 chord in the key of C, the listener has a very strong expectation of hearing a C chord next. When you couple a G7 chord with a very "climactic" high note, this can reinforce the listener's expectations even more. So here a few simple ways you can take the "edge" off of the V chord, thwart the listener's expectations, and create musical complexity.
1) Replace the tonic with a subsitute chord.
After playing a V chord (G in the key of C), you can easily surprise the listener by moving to, say, vii (A minor in the key of C) or iii (E minor in the key of C) instead of going to the I chord (C major).
2) Modulate to a whole new key.
You can pretty much modulate anywhere when the V chord falls at the end of the pre-chorus. If your pre-chorus ends on G (V) and your chorus begins on C (I), experiment with writing a new chorus in any one of these keys, for starters: D major, E flat, or A flat. (Then try to return to C for the next verse or section.)
3) Hit a "down" note on the dominant V chord, or an "up" note on a tonic I.
Structure your melody so it dips down when the harmony is soaring "up" in anticipation of the chorus. Conversely, try hitting a high "dramatic" note when you play the stereotypically "peaceful and at rest" tonic. For example, in my song "Send me a Sign," the bridge ends on a V chord (C major, in this case) before returning to the main progression of I - flat VII - IV - I. (F, E flat, B flat, F). However, the melody dips DOWN on the last couple of bars of the V chord, before soaring up for the I chord (which is actually the beginning of the next section.)
4) Ditch the V altogether!
Lots of songs gain their power from a certain amount of tonal ambiguity, flirting with other keys or medieval modes. By avoiding certain chords (or using them sparingly) you can make your songs more mysterious, moody and subtle. For example, Roxy Music's "Mother of Pearl" has a whole second section which consists solely of D - A - E - E (flat VII - IV- I, also known as a double plagal cadence) repeating over and over. This gives the song an almost mystical, trance-like feel which is well-suited to the song. Or, consider Death Cab for Cutie's "Soul Meets Body" which employs only three chords: D minor, F and C, to be exact. On first insepection, the song appears to be in D minor natural or D dorian, (or possibly even C major or F major, based on chords alone) but by carefully skirting the "A7" the song retains an elusive, "ghostly" feel - again mirroring the lyrics quite nicely. For practice, try writing your own song that eschews the traditional V and V7 chords.
With just these few tips and ideas in mind, you're ready to start writing far more nuanced songs. Once you've mastered the art of writing "less obvious" melodies and chord progressions you can even mix things up by alternating between the straightforward, on-the-nose stuff and the more subtle material - sometimes within the same song.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Heavyweight Titles, Part Two
Hey, remember that killer song "Once in a While" by the phenomenal 90's rock band Dishwalla? Remember how it TORE UP the airwaves like a bad-ass mother back in 1998 and continues to crop up in regular rotation on just about every rock station you can think of??? What about that cool 1999 song "It's Saturday" by alt-rockers Marcy Playground? You couldn't get AWAY from that one. Man, I still can't get that one out of my head.
No??? You don't remember EITHER of those songs??? Hmmmm. But I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts you DO remember Dishwalla's "Counting Blue Cars," doncha? (You know, the one that goes, "Tell me all your thoughts on god... cause I'd really like to meet her...") And I KNOW you remember Marcy Playground's infectious little ditty called "Sex and Candy." Ah-ha! Sure you do!
Now, some people would argue that the reason we know the earlier hits by these guys is because they were musically better songs. Maybe. Other people would say those bands had their 15 minutes of fame and radio was ready to throw them under the bus. Maybe again.
However, I personally believe that part of the problem was not just a (debatable) lack of quality in the follow-up singles, but a distinct lack of "hook" in the titles. Now, I'm not a big fan of either song, but when you first hear titles like "Counting Blue Cars" or "Sex and Candy" (before hearing the songs themselves) you DEFINITELY want to know what they're about! "Once in a While" or "It's Saturday"... not so much.
You might argue that you didn't know the Dishwalla song was called "Counting Blue Cars" and you still remember it anyway, but WHY do you think you heard it in the first place? Songs don't just play themselves on the radio. It's quite likely that programmers and DJ's were intrigued enough by the title to give it a few spins when it debuted, and then the title, along with the lyrical novelty (god as a woman) and song's overall catchiness were enough to keep the song in heavy rotation.
When I worked at a radio station and the song "Once in a While" came out, I vividly remember looking at the CD case (before playing it) and thinking, "Well, that's the end of Dishwalla." Not because the song is bad, per se; I just knew it was gonna be kinda generic and ordinary. And sure enough it was.
Of course, I need to stress that you CAN still have a hit with ordinary, banal tititles, as many of you will no doubt be quick to point out. Sure, there are tons of hit songs by huge bands that have cliched or poor titles, but that doesn't mean weak titles aren't a hindrance in general.
Yeah, sometimes a song just cries out for a title like, say, "She" or "Tonight." But when you have a relatively ho-hum title, you better make sure the song blows the listener out of the water on every other level, because you're starting the race with a handicap. Sad to say, unless you're already on the level of Lady Gaga or U2 people just aren't going to be that eager to hear a new song titled "I Love You." (Well, maybe some people will be.)
More to come...
No??? You don't remember EITHER of those songs??? Hmmmm. But I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts you DO remember Dishwalla's "Counting Blue Cars," doncha? (You know, the one that goes, "Tell me all your thoughts on god... cause I'd really like to meet her...") And I KNOW you remember Marcy Playground's infectious little ditty called "Sex and Candy." Ah-ha! Sure you do!
Now, some people would argue that the reason we know the earlier hits by these guys is because they were musically better songs. Maybe. Other people would say those bands had their 15 minutes of fame and radio was ready to throw them under the bus. Maybe again.
However, I personally believe that part of the problem was not just a (debatable) lack of quality in the follow-up singles, but a distinct lack of "hook" in the titles. Now, I'm not a big fan of either song, but when you first hear titles like "Counting Blue Cars" or "Sex and Candy" (before hearing the songs themselves) you DEFINITELY want to know what they're about! "Once in a While" or "It's Saturday"... not so much.
You might argue that you didn't know the Dishwalla song was called "Counting Blue Cars" and you still remember it anyway, but WHY do you think you heard it in the first place? Songs don't just play themselves on the radio. It's quite likely that programmers and DJ's were intrigued enough by the title to give it a few spins when it debuted, and then the title, along with the lyrical novelty (god as a woman) and song's overall catchiness were enough to keep the song in heavy rotation.
When I worked at a radio station and the song "Once in a While" came out, I vividly remember looking at the CD case (before playing it) and thinking, "Well, that's the end of Dishwalla." Not because the song is bad, per se; I just knew it was gonna be kinda generic and ordinary. And sure enough it was.
Of course, I need to stress that you CAN still have a hit with ordinary, banal tititles, as many of you will no doubt be quick to point out. Sure, there are tons of hit songs by huge bands that have cliched or poor titles, but that doesn't mean weak titles aren't a hindrance in general.
Yeah, sometimes a song just cries out for a title like, say, "She" or "Tonight." But when you have a relatively ho-hum title, you better make sure the song blows the listener out of the water on every other level, because you're starting the race with a handicap. Sad to say, unless you're already on the level of Lady Gaga or U2 people just aren't going to be that eager to hear a new song titled "I Love You." (Well, maybe some people will be.)
More to come...
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Heavyweight Titles, Part One
Recently I was talking to a songwriter friend of mine and he told me that he was working on a new song. I asked him what the title was and he said, "The title? That's the LAST thing I worry about!"
I found this remark very telling, because while there's nothing necessarily WRONG with coming up with the title last, I couldn't help but think how important a good title is, and how often a pop song will flow easily once the title is in place.
From a writing standpoint, a good title crystalizes your concept and helps you to focus your thoughts. It's usually not a good idea to write a song if you don't have any idea what you want to say! That's not to suggest you can't write a song by just scribbling lyrics and letting them take you wherever. However, that can also result in a lot of lost time wandering in the forest, and it's not a given that everyone's going to follow you there.
A good pop song title is - more often than not - clever but not pretentious, simple but not simplistic, and intriguing but not overly confusing. The ideal song title tells the listener in a few concise words, "Hey, we're going somewhere really cool, you wanna come?" Of course, there are some important exceptions and subtle differences from genre to genre,* but in general these "rules" almost always apply.
More to come…
Footnote:
*I know that country songs, for example, make frequent use of puns and wordplay (stuff like "She Hit the Road, He Hit the Bottle"), which is something you might find a bit contrived. Similarly, prog-rock musicians use long, elaborate, and "spaced out" titles. These variations tend to work well within their respective genres.
I found this remark very telling, because while there's nothing necessarily WRONG with coming up with the title last, I couldn't help but think how important a good title is, and how often a pop song will flow easily once the title is in place.
From a writing standpoint, a good title crystalizes your concept and helps you to focus your thoughts. It's usually not a good idea to write a song if you don't have any idea what you want to say! That's not to suggest you can't write a song by just scribbling lyrics and letting them take you wherever. However, that can also result in a lot of lost time wandering in the forest, and it's not a given that everyone's going to follow you there.
A good pop song title is - more often than not - clever but not pretentious, simple but not simplistic, and intriguing but not overly confusing. The ideal song title tells the listener in a few concise words, "Hey, we're going somewhere really cool, you wanna come?" Of course, there are some important exceptions and subtle differences from genre to genre,* but in general these "rules" almost always apply.
More to come…
Footnote:
*I know that country songs, for example, make frequent use of puns and wordplay (stuff like "She Hit the Road, He Hit the Bottle"), which is something you might find a bit contrived. Similarly, prog-rock musicians use long, elaborate, and "spaced out" titles. These variations tend to work well within their respective genres.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Inside the Songwriter's Mind: Andy J. Gallagher
Weaned on a well-balanced diet of 70's glam and punk rock, Mr. Gallagher, armed only with his new CD, "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine," (out now on Waga Waga Records) seems hell-bent on rescuing the masses from whatever boring band your hipster friends are all raving about this month.
Tune Tipster was fortunate enough to land this short Q&A with the up and coming rocker, who graciously allowed us to pick his brain about songwriting, recording, and how David Bowie keeps nicking all the best ideas.
TT: Hello sir! Very nice to speak to you. We've been listening to your music for months and enjoying it immensely.
A: Cool, cool. Thanks for your support.
TT: The first thing I'd like to ask, does songwriting come easy to you, or is it hard work?
Andy: Songwriting, it comes easy to you at times, other times I just can't do it. I seem to go in 3 song spurts; in two days I sat down and wrote "The Rocks," "Faster and Faster," and "Another Craze."
TT: And what's the quickest you've ever written a song?
Andy: The quickest songs I've ever written are "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine" and "Faster and Faster." They both took roughly ten minutes. For "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine," I maybe actually had to add lyrics later on - I was singing the same verse twice - but the song was pretty much in place and I just added the lyrics later on.
Andy: I wrote "Helicopter, Dolphin, Submarine" at a flat in the west end of London. I was fairly drunk one night, strumming around on an acoustic guitar and I had this melody in my head and I couldn't remember if it was a Radiohead melody or not...and I decided it wasn't so I wrote a song around it! That was that; it just went together simply.
Andy: I've done that millions of times. Anything Ray Davies writes, I've written four times.
Andy: By about 40 years or so... it's kind of
annoying!
TT: Bastard!
Andy: (Laughs) Indeed. David Bowie normally beats me. Another one of my best ideas turned out to be a section of a Bowie song from "Hunky Dory" or something... They get kind of ingrained, don't they?
TT: Which brings me to the next thing I was going to ask: If you were pushed into a corner and had to pick one songwriting hero who would it be?
Andy: I really, really, REALLY like - from your neck of the woods - the Ramones. They're probably my all time favorite band. Dee Dee Ramone was obviously the main songwriter, and Joey wrote some as well. My favorite ARTIST is David Bowie, but I also like Lou Reed, from the Velvet Underground through to maybe the Berlin album... Favorite all-time songwriter if I had to name one... (pauses) David Bowie.
TT: I can definitely hear how you mix those influences. There's an intellectual leaning to the lyrics, but you still have the primal quality of someone like the Ramones...
Andy: When I originally wrote "Faster and Faster" it was a lot slower... It was going to be the main track from MY "Low" (David Bowie) album. So I gave it to my drummer, and by the time he was done revving it up, there was no chance it was gonna be on "Low." It was gonna be on "Rocket to Russia" (Ramones) instead!
TT: I would imagine the arrangements change a lot from when you start to the finished product. You worked with Roman Jugg (former guitarist/keyboardist of the Damned) for this album, were there any situations where he wanted to change the arrangement of a song, or...?
A: When you let someone like Roman produce you, you've got to let him produce you. Whatever they say they want to do, however much you think, "That's gonna ruin my song!" you have to let them try and do it. And I think Roman has some real flashes of genius in terms of the structures. For example, in "Something Else" there was a whole load of choruses going on at the end. And he said, "Look, you need to get rid of those, 'cause it's going on too long." He took 'em out, and just threw in a key change... originally the outro was in b minor and he changed it to e minor and then cut about a minute off the song. I think that arrangement just made the song work. Also, Roman co-wrote "The Men in Suits." The little "A" bit, the lead guitar bit, was just a whole key change... that's his. He wrote that. And while that doesn't make the song necessarily, it really lifts the song at a crucial moment. Some of the stuff Roman told me… Roman's a very, very clever man. You don't spend 10 years in the Damned and not learn anything, do you?
TT: I would think not. Were there any other songs you had to streamline for the album?
TT: Well, I don't know about that! The last thing I want to ask you is, are you ever surprised by which songs connect with people? Was there ever one that you loved that didn't really resonate with people, or vice versa, something that you said, "Oh, this isn't the best thing I've ever written" and people went gaga over it?
A: Normally, MY favorite song is the last song I wrote. I play it for people and go, "I want you to hear this! I've just re-invented rock and roll!" And they listen and go, "No, that's rubbish, Andy. It's terrible! Get back to the drawing board!" (Laughs) When [I] VERY first hear them, [I] think, "That's amazing!" …There's such a long period between when you actually record the songs to when you actually get the physical CD that by the time you listen to them you're kind of underwhelmed. When you get the finished version, you're kind of not happy with it, because you had this idea in your head of how it's going to sound. But then you get the enthusiasm of people that are hearing them maybe for the first time, and people tell me how wonderful this song is or how cool that song is, rather than me telling THEM which is how it starts. When I write 'em, I tell everyone else how cool they are, and then six months down the road when they're finally ready people tell me how cool they are!
TT: After playing it so many times I would imagine it's hard to be objective about anything.
A: Yeah. My favorite song on the album changes from day to day. I don't listen to it every day, but whenever I listen, I've had a different favorite song. Probably the one song that is most surprising is "The Brightest Star." That's my drummer's favorite song, and I thought it was kind of weak, that one. As you know, my drummer's quite a powerful drummer...
A: Yeah, and that's his favorite song! I kinda prefer the more uptempo ones.
TT: So what would your favorite be right now?
A: There's always two…"Faster and Faster" or "The Men in Suits."
TT: Nice. I see you're playing gigs through May, so hopefully some of our readers will get a chance to hear those tracks live. Well, we really appreciate you taking the time to talk to us, Andy, and best of luck with the album. Have a great night.
A: And you too mate. Thanks very much.
*
Check out Andy J. Gallagher's website by clicking here!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Crazy Chord-itis
When an aspiring songwriter first gets a taste for harmonic theory, he or she sometimes goes overboard trying to come up with all kinds of whacked-out chord progressions. I call this "crazy chord-itis" and believe me, I speak from personal experience! Quite often, the writer gets the idea that a chord progression is no good if someone else has even come close to using it. This "search for the lost chord" (or chord progression) is an understandable, but often unnecessary, endeavor.
First of all, when it comes to Western popular music and (basic) chord progressions, there isn't much you can come up with short of utter cacophony (and even some of that) which hasn't been utilized in some form or another. If it sounds even remotely pleasant, there's a good chance someone else has tread there before.
Secondly, even if you do come up with some wacky chord progression that you like, bear in mind that the average listener can pinpoint a strange chord progression far more easily than a common one. So, if you happen to stumble across the chords from, say, "Paranoid Android" by Radiohead, there's a better chance that someone's gonna "catch it" than if you use a simple I - V - vi -IV (which is in about 10 billion songs).
Ironically, the use of a less common chord progression is easier to discern than one that's in every other song (with all else being equal) because these "odd" chord progressions have a certain character that defies harmonic "logic" and makes them stand out more. So you could use I - IV - I - V in 50 different songs before anyone's the wiser, but repeat the chords from "I Am the Walrus" just one time and everyone's accusing you of ripping off the Beatles.
Finally, it's a bad idea to get in the habit of relying on harmonic motion to carry all your songs. While it's nice to come up with cool chord progressions, you don't want to fall into the trap of always relying on wild chord changes to save the day. Lots of incredible, classic songs have only one or two chords, and use rhythmic or melodic motion to sustain interest. Challenging yourself to write a compelling song with only one or two chords, or a super-common chord progression like I - IV -V, is a good way to work on your songwriter "total body fitness" and cure yourself of "crazy chord-itis."
First of all, when it comes to Western popular music and (basic) chord progressions, there isn't much you can come up with short of utter cacophony (and even some of that) which hasn't been utilized in some form or another. If it sounds even remotely pleasant, there's a good chance someone else has tread there before.
Secondly, even if you do come up with some wacky chord progression that you like, bear in mind that the average listener can pinpoint a strange chord progression far more easily than a common one. So, if you happen to stumble across the chords from, say, "Paranoid Android" by Radiohead, there's a better chance that someone's gonna "catch it" than if you use a simple I - V - vi -IV (which is in about 10 billion songs).
Ironically, the use of a less common chord progression is easier to discern than one that's in every other song (with all else being equal) because these "odd" chord progressions have a certain character that defies harmonic "logic" and makes them stand out more. So you could use I - IV - I - V in 50 different songs before anyone's the wiser, but repeat the chords from "I Am the Walrus" just one time and everyone's accusing you of ripping off the Beatles.
Finally, it's a bad idea to get in the habit of relying on harmonic motion to carry all your songs. While it's nice to come up with cool chord progressions, you don't want to fall into the trap of always relying on wild chord changes to save the day. Lots of incredible, classic songs have only one or two chords, and use rhythmic or melodic motion to sustain interest. Challenging yourself to write a compelling song with only one or two chords, or a super-common chord progression like I - IV -V, is a good way to work on your songwriter "total body fitness" and cure yourself of "crazy chord-itis."
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Most Important Audience
When I attempt to write songs, I tend to think of the audience I'm writing for. In my mind; if I can't connect with someone or make someone feel SOMETHING than most of what I'm doing is for naught.
That said, have you ever talked to your friends about an album and everyone has a different opinion about which songs SUCK and which songs are GREAT? And none of the songs people like seem to match up? For example, your friend Joe thinks "Transplant for a Care Bear" is the worst song Uneasy Truce has ever written, while Matt thinks it's the pinnacle of songwriting achievement. Likewise, Mary thinks "Banana-Flavored Placebo" is fantastic and Jane thinks it's crap on a shingle.
What does this tell us? Well, other than the fact that Uneasy Truce has some pretty f-ed up song titles, it tells us that different things resonate with different people. (All together now, "Thank you Captain Obvious!") However, I can guarantee that a song has a lot less chance of resonating with ANYONE if it doesn't resonate with the WRITER first.
In other words, while it's fine to consider the audience you're writing for, never let this eclipse the most important audience - YOU! Trying to successfully anticipate what will connect with all the people all of the time is a losing game - even for the experts! However, if you really believe in a song's quality, then there's a much better chance it'll connect with someone out there. And you'll feel a whole lot better being rejected for a song you're proud of than one you only wrote to please someone else.
So, when you're writing, it's okay to imagine the audience you're writing for. Just make sure you've got a seat in the front row.
That said, have you ever talked to your friends about an album and everyone has a different opinion about which songs SUCK and which songs are GREAT? And none of the songs people like seem to match up? For example, your friend Joe thinks "Transplant for a Care Bear" is the worst song Uneasy Truce has ever written, while Matt thinks it's the pinnacle of songwriting achievement. Likewise, Mary thinks "Banana-Flavored Placebo" is fantastic and Jane thinks it's crap on a shingle.
What does this tell us? Well, other than the fact that Uneasy Truce has some pretty f-ed up song titles, it tells us that different things resonate with different people. (All together now, "Thank you Captain Obvious!") However, I can guarantee that a song has a lot less chance of resonating with ANYONE if it doesn't resonate with the WRITER first.
In other words, while it's fine to consider the audience you're writing for, never let this eclipse the most important audience - YOU! Trying to successfully anticipate what will connect with all the people all of the time is a losing game - even for the experts! However, if you really believe in a song's quality, then there's a much better chance it'll connect with someone out there. And you'll feel a whole lot better being rejected for a song you're proud of than one you only wrote to please someone else.
So, when you're writing, it's okay to imagine the audience you're writing for. Just make sure you've got a seat in the front row.
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