Category Archives: Songwriting

“Ska” treatment | Arrangement choices

In arranging our songs we are attempting to support and enhance them, but sometimes we change them, for better, or worse.

synthesizer/workstation with the title songwriting process superimposed

[This post refers to the song, Pass The Cup among others. More songs are available on Soundcloud.]

Arranging is fun

Making music is fun! At least it should be. One of my favourite aspects is arranging. Creating an arrangement involves selecting the instrumentation, the part each plays, and when they enter and leave the song. The goal is to set a groove, or flow, maintain listener interest by building on, or changing, the sonic structure, and ultimately to elicit an emotional response in the listener.

I’m not like the Mark Ruffalo character in Begin Again:

I don’t hear all of the instrumentation and the arrangement building as I write or listen to the song in its initial guitar/voice or piano/voice demo. I might have some ideas, but I love discovering what works and what doesn’t. I discard as many parts as I add, but often some kind of magic happens that makes me fall in love with the song even more.

Although the possibilities are endless, your choices should be limited in practice. Bobby Owsinski identifies five common elements in arrangements: foundation, pad, rhythm, lead, and fills. He suggests “most arrangements have these 5 elements, but very rarely are they all present at the same time. Any more than 5 elements at the same time is confusing to the listener.

I usually like to start simply and build the arrangement to keep the listener interested. A shaker, a harmony, a lick, a pad, a drum or instrument fill can all be added, dropped, or changed at the appropriate time. It’s also effective to go from a full arrangement to a sparse arrangement within the song to add interest and refocus the song before building again. This post will touch on some of the arrangement choices I’ve made, starting with how my latest release, Pass The Cup, became a ska song.

The Ska Treatment

Pass the Cup was not written with ska in mind, but in searching for a drumming style in Strike Virtual Drummer, the setting I liked for this song was described as ska. I had heard of ska, but wasn’t exactly sure of what the style consisted.  So I did some research. The choked off guitar chords on 2, 2+, 4, 4+ are what makes the original guitar rhythm work with the ska beat I selected.

This isn’t the first time I took this approach to arranging a song. The Day Is Done wasn’t originally written as a bluegrass song, but once I decided to take it there, I did the research and made sure that the guitar style on the recording followed the tenets of bluegrass guitar.

Ska is Jamaican in origin. Originating in the late 1950s and early 1960s, it was a harbinger of Reggae, blending African-Jamaican folk music, calypso, and American rhythm and blues. It experienced a resurgence in the 80s. One of the more famous early ska tunes was My Boy Lollipop sung by Jamaican teenager, Millie Small.

For a super fun and strange version of this song, check out Mně se líbí Bob from the Czech musical Rebelové:

I already had a bass line, but learning that the early ska of the 1960s often used a walking bass line, I rerecorded the bass line in that style. It was a great fit. The common use of jazz-style horns on the off-beats was also noted, so I tried adding some horns.

Adding the horns, arranging their harmonies and various stabs and sustains, was some of the most fun I’ve ever had arranging. It reminded me of the show bands I used to hear at the Western Fair, a childhood highlight that heralded the end of summer and the beginning of school. I hope I didn’t over do it.

I’m a fan of Katrina and the Waves’ original recordings, released in Canada before the group became popular in the U.S.A.. Walking on Sunshine was a hit twice in Canada. The first release had no horns, but the second used them right up front to great effect to give that feel of summer and sunshine.

I added the clapping to introduce a new element for the ear and to emphasize the off-beat. Together with the “please pass / the cup” chanting at the end, it helps to give an informal fun feel to it. You might be interested to know that the “please pass / the cup” chant was somewhat inspired by the “cut the cake” chant from the deleted birthday scene in Almost Famous.

Art imitating art imitating life.

More arranging examples follow, if you care to read on.

Adventures in Arranging

The Day Is Done

As mentioned above, The Day Is Done is another example of a song where I was influenced by the drum pattern, but first and foremost, by the lyric, which talks about hitting the dance floor and leading your partner in the two-step. I had a vague idea of what a country two-step was about, but I again turned to the Internet for some research. There are several dance clubs that hold competitions and they have requirements for tempo.

The tempo of the song was originally not quite as fast as it is in the final product. I adjusted the tempo to the suggested tempo for two-step dance competitions. That led to the choice of a drum pattern labelled as bluegrass, which suggested the bluegrass picking for the guitar. The song was initially written with a simple strum.

The fiddle and its little turn at Turkey In The Straw in bridge, the diatonic sixth grace notes in the piano part (a la Floyd Cramer), the train whistle harmony, all were deliberate arrangement choices made to make sure the song fit into a two-step, bluegrass-country mold.

My Old Friend

My first release to the world was the song My Old Friend, which was featured in the now defunct Inside Home Recording podcast with the late Derek Miller (Episode 43 from June 2007). The song went through a lot of changes as I got better. Usually I try (and often fail) to live by Seth Godin’s mantra of always be shipping, but My Old Friend was a special song to me and I tweaked it as late as July 2012.

The late changes I made were in the arrangement — the addition of the acoustic guitar, the pared back start of the third verse (2:38) — but even before the first mix back in 2007, the addition of the lead guitar lick that first comes in at the second B section (1:26) was a delight to me. It enhanced the song greatly and led to the lead guitar fills in final verse (2:38). Both of these aspects helped to provide the song with the emotion I wanted. Neither were there at the time of writing. I knew the B sections needed something and I noodled over top of them until I found it. As I recall, it didn’t take that long and when I hit upon the two-string harmony used, it was like a bolt out of the blue. Magic!

Coming Home

Coming Home was written on piano and the initial intro was piano only. It was simple, it fit, and I liked it. Yet by the time I was done there were two lead guitar parts laid over it and it had a whole different feel. I’m honestly not sure whether it’s better than the original, or not. But I was trying to accomplish something by it.

I could have waited until after the first verse and chorus to add these guitars over the piano, and thus build the song up, but what I think it makes the intro work better with the guitars than without is the contrast it generates between the intro and the first verse. The verse is mostly piano accompaniment with a simple drum beat, so, as the guitars end and the verse begins, focus shifts to the lyrics.  A more accomplished voice would have strengthened the effect further.

I didn’t just add any guitar parts. I made sure the tone, the harmony and placement added to the melancholy. This is a song that is both happy and sad. After all, at the end, our characters are dying. Sliding into notes and adding a fair bit of reverb added an ethereal flavour that hints at what’s to come. By the end of the song the rock organ morphs into a church organ and a choir joins in to underline the double meaning of the title Coming Home.

Life on a Shelf

Life on a Shelf was written on guitar and I’m pretty sure I started by laying down the simple strumming pattern I still use when I pick up a guitar to play it. The chord changes repeat through all but the bridge, so strumming alone was bound to get repetitive. To get around this I decided to do the verses as arpeggios.

I’ve always loved the sound of muted guitar and bass, the restrained feel it gives, especially when that opens up into un-muted, medium-distorted, power chords. Just What I Needed by The Cars is a great example, but without much movement in the muted part. One of my faves is Caught Up In You by .38 Special with the muted part descending in the verses with power chords accenting the rhythm then coming in strong in chorus .

I’m very happy with how it works in the first verse of Life on a Shelf, and yet I felt it would be overkill to do the same in the second verse. So I used the same pattern with a jangling synth, reminiscent of the intro to Different Drum in the Linda Rhonstadt and The Stone Poneys version.

The treatment of each verse in Life on a Shelf offers good contrast from the basic strum pattern that you can hear in the intro and between verses. The muted guitar in the first verse is very articulated and the synth in the second is more flowing.

The organ in the chorus is something that changed the whole sound of the song (for the better, I think). Again, looking to add to the straight strumming that you hear in the intro, I thought an organ would sound good, but I was thinking of it as more of a background pad. When I started playing along with the song, I fell in love with the riff, sound and feel that I came up with and in the end it is the featured part of the chorus.

I think this is why some people have a problem with songwriters getting all the credit for a song, when sometimes a studio musician adds something that becomes the signature sound of the song. In this case, no problem, because I’m responsible for the underlying song and the added parts. But think about such things as the intro and turnarounds in Morning Has Broken for which Rick Wakeman was offered 10 pounds and remained un-credited for a very long time.

M Crazy

What follows is is not my song and that’s important to remember here.

My friend Malcolm McIntrye wrote and recorded this with guitar, voice, and a drum loop from a GNX guitar pedal. He asked me to add synth strings to it and I did. But I couldn’t resist also adding some piano and I loved what it added to the song, especially the drama it added at the climax. He didn’t. He felt it changed the song too much, and in the end, he’s right because it’s his song. I removed the piano and kept the synth. But I did keep a copy of the song with the piano and can share a portion of it with you here. Keep in mind, this is very early in my home recording odyssey.

A final word on arranging

Probably more examples here than you needed to get the point. While a good deal of the decisions you make on arrangement can and should be made with your gut, be sure that those decisions are supporting the song. Happy arranging.

Chorus or bridge? | Pass the Cup

Songs evolve and song form can emerge organically from the songwriting process.synthesizer/workstation with the title songwriting process superimposed

[This post refers to the song, Pass The Cup and it’s lyrics posted here on Stephen Songtime with the song available for download from Soundcloud.]

It’s a glass half full kind of song

Pass The Cup evolved from the guitar riff that starts each verse. The lyrics grew from that riff and originally there were only three verses and a chorus, scribbled on the bottom of a weekly planner page.

A friend, responding to the lyrics post shared on Facebook commented, “Definitely a glass half full kind of song.” I agree. But looking back at the original lyrics reveals an initial inclination toward a glass half empty kind of song.

The first iteration of the first verse started with: Did you ever want to be / A star? / Not me. My initial thoughts were not to be negative, but to point out that we don’t make music to become stars (hopefully). Too soon, I was establishing an agenda for the song. The not me does offer a surprise answer and has possibilities, but ultimately it is a hard thing to sell and not honest in my case.

When you are young, you do have those dreams. I can remember gathering various cousins and friends to play Partridge Family in our basement, when I was a kid. We sang along to their songs while mimicking playing instruments. I would even have someone listen to the performance through the intercom in the house pretending we were on the radio. Obviously me too, rather than not me, is the more honest choice, despite appearing to be a second thought.

First thoughts are very valuable

First thoughts are very valuable, because you often get to unfiltered feelings and truths that anchor your song in something that can universally touch people. But songwriting is a craft. The pieces have to fit together. I think the nature of the opening and repeated riff is somewhat jaunty, flowing up and down almost cheerily. That riff is the backbone of the song and doubled by the melody, so more optimism was called for.

I would even argue that me too was likely the first thought, edited before putting pen to paper. How does one arrive at the unexpected answer without first contemplating the expected one?  In any case, I’m glad I brought it back, because I think it helps to complete a universal question with a universal answer.

But after weeding that line, another negative nettle popped up.

Did you ever want to be
A star?
Me too,
But I couldn’t go the distance.

I actually kind of like it as a line. It might even be true, but it is negative and draws a conclusion that would force me into articulating excuses or rationalizations throughout the rest of the song, or shift gears completely and center the song around giving it up for something that is eventually more fulfilling. I decided to keep maximum possibility, so the line evolved:

  1. But I couldn’t go the distance [foregone negative conclusion]
  2. It was hidden in the distance [unclear and somewhat contradictory]
  3. It was always in the distance [alluring, but unreachable]
  4. It was right there in the distance [achievable, but requiring effort]

You can see that I moved the dream of being a star from a foregone negative conclusion to very possible, through the eyes of young optimism and naivete, but not at all imminent.

Getting the rhyme right

The end of the first verse was originally written as So far / Away / Let’s play. I like let’s play and its quick rhyme, but I think it begs for an instrumental break or immediate jump to the chorus, which didn’t seem to fit there. More importantly, I needed to ensure a consistent rhyming scheme.

I liked the third verse on the handwritten original lyrics right away. It eventually became the final verse when more were added. The final verse rhymes two different lines than the first verse, so even though it’s not there in the original handwritten lyrics, it was corrected before recording with an additive rhyme, between me too and from school.

If you click on the image below, you’ll note that the second verse was edited to match right then and there. You can see both versions in the original handwritten lyrics.

There are clues that some edits were made right after a line was written, some were made after a subsequent section was written, and still more were made long after the initial writing session. I’ve included a picture of the original handwritten lyrics for you to decipher on your own.

Handwritten lyrics to Pass The Cup

Click the image for the entire original handwritten lyrics

When is a chorus, not a chorus?

Perhaps one of the more interesting aspects in writing this song can be seen where I scribbled down theme possibilities before tackling what I thought would be the chorus. Probably the majority of my songs are written from a title idea, so it was a bit of a departure for me to have verses before trying to come up with ideas for the chorus.

  • The dream never dies, but it changes.
  • Dreams become hobbies
  • One dream fulfilled, others devoted to hobbies

The resulting chorus turned out, in the end, to be a repeated bridge. It was started from the common idea of dreams noted above, but followed the vagaries of inspiration in the moment of writing. There are a few alternate lines to be found in the draft, but it was nearly complete from the first writing. Differing dreams, shrinking choices, the routine of everyday life, and a warning not to let your chance pass you by. The pseudo refrains of Don’t send it on its way and Don’t turn the cup away were only added after the third verse (eventually the final, fifth verse) was written and revealed the song title.

That final verse came out the most complete, with only three words being changed from first writing to final recording:

I’m looking to be ready when they pass/ The My cup / To me Of tea

It is this final verse that makes it a glass (or cup) half full kind of song. And it really articulates the message of the song: continue to do your thing so that if the chance comes, you won’t miss it. And it is the final line of the final verse that leads me to conclude that what was originally intended as a chorus functions more as a bridge.

A chorus contains the main idea of the song, and so would most likely have contained the song title. This bridge does not use the actual title of the song. Each repetition only suggests it and in a rather oblique way. But more importantly, the main idea of the song, its focus, is not in the bridge. It’s in that final verse.

The final verse is where the refrain of the title is most closely articulated, repeated, and supported  by the chanting of “Please pass / The cup.” The verses also contain the main melodic hook, doubled by guitar riff and vocal. And it ends the song. While its not a rule, where a song has a chorus, it usually ends on the chorus, because the chorus usually has the main hook.

For any beginners out there, we know the verses are verses because the lyrics are changing each time.

Song form and length

I hesitate to dive into song form because I’ve studied it just enough to be dangerous and to note the close but conflicting explanations out there. Pass the Cup is not a clear cut case. My feeling is that it is really a modified 32-bar or AABA form, but structured AABAABA, with a solo.

The two additional verses were written to extend the song’s depth and length. Length is somewhat important for commercial purposes, but otherwise is more of a feel thing for me. Exposure to so much popular music likely creates an innate sense of whether there is enough material to tell the story. In the case of Pass The Cup, the verses are so short that I felt I wanted some more ideas to flesh out the song.

Inserted after the first bridge, these verses allow me to put the too busy excuse (which I’ve been known to use) to rest and then advocate for being proactive using a tea party analogy that fits well with the title and advocates that one needs to be proactive.

I don’t want to hear the same,
Excuse,
Again,
Everybody’s busy,
Come on lose,
That tired,
Refrain.
If you’re waiting for someone,
To bring,
The cake,
Listen and you’ll hear,
The kettle sing,
It’s yours,
To make.

As I recall, these verses were written months after the rest of the song and originally arranged in an AABABAA form right up to the record date. But I didn’t change it to get into AABAABA form. It just seemed the better, more natural choice after rehearsing the song.

That pretty much fills the cup up to the brim. I’m happy to answer any further questions that anyone might have regarding the writing of Pass The Cup.

Consider the opposite, select a synth, shift the solo | Songwriting process

Songwriting possibilities open up when you take your original idea and stand it on its head.synthesizer/workstation with the title songwriting process superimposed

[This article references the song Forever from a previous post. It can also be found, on YouTube, or along with my other works, on Soundcloud.]

Consider the opposite

I woke up in the middle of the night with the idea for the song Forever. More accurately, I woke up with the opposite idea to what became Forever.  The original line that I put into my Keep app on my phone was I can’t write with this hear forever.

It was logical. We all die. We can’t go on forever. Or can we?

Because of my training and subsequent career in television, video production, and eventually teaching the same, I’ve always been into books on film technique and screenplay writing. One of the many nuggets I picked up from William Goldman’s Adventures in the Screen Trade was about writing the opposite to avoid the cliche and the predictable.

Now this has nearly become the new cliche, but the idea is that if, for instance, two characters love one another, it is far more interesting for one of them to say, I hate you, than to state the obvious and make everything easy. No one wants to watch village of the happy people, is one of my favourite William Goldman quotes.

I would like to suggest that the songwriter can benefit from a similar exercise. Consider the opposite to open up more creative possibilities. It won’t always provide better, but it will surely provide different.

I can’t write with this heart forever, may have been the start to an excellent song. But, in the morning, when I considered the opposite statement, the impossible statement, I can write with this hear forever, so many more possibilities jumped forth that I just didn’t look back. Sometimes it’s all about grabbing the most inspirational idea, the one that fills you with the breath and breadth of creativity.

Once I started down this more metaphysical path, the I can walk on this earth forever verse, with its theme of being recycled, occurred to me next, but it was too early in the song to go there. Something more concrete was needed that didn’t lend itself as easily to metaphor. I knew I wanted to go there, but not quite yet. Now, I’m not saying that my thoughts at the time matched the following exactly, but sometimes we understand things better in retrospect.

A slight digression

I don’t really like my voice. I tried out for the school choir in grade three and while I wouldn’t say it still haunts me, I do remember the result to this day.

Auditions were in a portable, those tin boxes arranged outside of the main school building to accommodate increasing student numbers at the time. The junior choir leader, Miss Jeffries, had each student come in individually and sing our national anthem, Oh Canada, a cappella. I thought I did a good job. After all, I’d been singing Oh Canada at least once a week throughout my school career, but I obviously didn’t measure up. Nothing was said, but I didn’t make the list that was subsequently posted.

Sidebar (as Stephen Tobolowski says in his most excellent, now-defunct, but still-available and highly recommended storytelling podcast, The Tobolowsky Files): I once had a nightmare about Miss Jeffries. I honestly don’t know whether it was before or after the audition. Miss Jeffries was dressed in the school sweater, green with three white stripes on the left, upper sleeve. She beckoned me toward her and pulled a sharp, shiny jackknife from her pocket and displayed it to me. I was terrified, but woke up before anything more transpired. End of sidebar.

It wasn’t until grade seven or eight that I attempted to join a school choir again, this time under the direction of Mr. Harris. There was no audition. Everyone was welcome. This was the case once again, in high school, when I joined the choir because my high school infatuation, Pam Bain, was in it. She was also in the elite madrigal choir, but I knew I couldn’t join that because they had auditions, and ever since Miss Jeffries in grade three, I knew I did not have a good voice.

I manage now by trying not to care about what other people think and with a little help from Melodyne, only when I need it. Part of me wants to take voice lessons, but the ten-year old me is still frightened of what a professional might do. Maybe throw up her hands in hopelessness at the task set before her. As unlikely as this behaviour would be in a professional, fear is fear.

The song continues

At any rate, back to opposites. I feel that I can’t sing well, so the second verse is I can sing with this voice forever. And I make a little fun of myself, but also state that I’ll continue on regardless.

There is no chorus. Instead, there is the one word refrain, forever, at the end the closing line of each verse, which mirrors the first line of its respective verse.

After the instrumental break or bridge (more on that in a bit), we’re on to the verses that reveal the metaphysical solution. I can walk on this earth forever. We are all recycled, physically. Also, our songs disperse into the universe as all energy does. Any interaction you have with me, becomes a part of me, just as my interaction becomes a part of you. You can write on this heart forever.

And so the cycle continues with the final verse and first verses closely playing off one another: I can write with this heart forever and you can write on this heart forever. We are linked together and will be transformed and reused when the time comes, on and on forever.

Synth city — The bridges

George Martin’s excellent Soundbreaking series on PBS presented a very timely episode on synthesizers. I was in the midst of arranging and recording Forever and realized that some synthesizer was just what I wanted to impart some other-worldliness into the instrumental break.

The search was on for a sound. In that search, I also found some sounds that I decided to use as accents and then adapted them to help build the song and add variety as it progressed.

The first verse is only voice, guitar and drums. In verse two, I introduced a little string-like chirp on the first and third beats. To underscore the harshness of the line, criticized by bigger than you babe, the synth drops down to the middle of the range for more power. Still reminiscent of strings, it now pulses on every beat. When we hit the bridge, the synth drops down to become the bass, adding gravitas to the strumming acoustic guitar.

As the solo guitar begins its run in the bridge, we get some really spacey synth spinning off into infinity (as Paul Simon might say). Most of these synth sounds are presets in AIR’s Loom. It was a blast previewing the possibilities. I also wanted a soft wind or wave sound and ended up creating that with my own voice and a microphone. It’s pretty subtle in the mix.

When we head back for verse three, the synths get dialed back to rebuild again as we head toward the end. The final outro repeats the bridge.

Solo shift — I’ve gotta try this more often

I love the simple acoustic guitar solo in this song, because it just fits. It was pretty much made up on the fly, recording over the backing tracks. I prefer simple, melodic guitar solos over the dense, technical calisthenics admired by my contemporaries during my teen years. Sometimes, many times, simple is just perfect. Among my favourite guitar leads and solos, and in no way am I comparing mine to any of these, are those in the songs Hearts of Lothian – Marillion, Just Between You and Me – April Wine, and Anthem: For The Young – Randy Bachman.

Something serendipitous happened with this solo that I’d like to share with you. It sounded good as recorded. I liked it. When I decided to use it again at the end of the song, I option-clicked and dragged it into position, but missed by a eighth note, just half a beat. Suddenly, it sounded so much better for this song. Not only did it move the start of phrases off the strong one-beat so they can be heard better, it imparted a more casual, less formal feel. I immediately thought California when I played it in its new position for the first time. It felt more like the solo was floating over the backing tracks along with those high, drifting synths. Yummy.

When I think back to the sheet music of the songs I used to play, as part of my piano lessons, I remember eighth notes, at the end of bars, tied over to the quarter, half, or whole note on beat one of the next bar. The song, If, by Bread springs to mind, but there were many others, so it’s definitely a well-used technique for more than solos.

I’m going to try to remember this in the future, when I’m arranging and want a similar effect. It really gave the solo, and therefore the song, a whole new feel. Try it yourself. It might just add something to your latest creation.

 

Write, rinse, repeat — Songwriting in the shower

[This article references the song Shortcomings from a previous post. It can also be found, along with my other works, on Soundcloud.]

Lather up

The cliche is singing in the shower, but a shower can also be a well-spring of creativity.

My song, Shortcomings, had been sitting around with several other songs, sadly neglected from a recording point of view, while I attended to less important things. Life is busy, but also short. If I were hit by a bus tomorrow, I would sentence many a song to full-bore obscurity, possibly doomed never to tickle a tweeter, nor wend from a woofer.

Shortcomings wasn’t the oldest in the succession of never-beens, but is old enough that the detailed circumstances of its creation are somewhat shrouded, somewhat revealed, in mist.

I do remember that like many of my songs Shortcomings started with a single idea/lyric: I’m forthcoming / About my shortcomings. The theme hits pretty close to home with me (wasn’t I just discussing my catalog backlog?). In truth the forthcoming part has taken a long time to develop, but I have found that with age it gets easier for me to recognize and own up to my own shortcomings, which are many.

The other thing I distinctly remember about the writing of Shortcomings is the mist itself, from several nice, warm, and productive showers. I regularly find the shower quite conducive to continuing a lyrical flow begun elsewhere. I’m not the only one who feels this way. It’s that lateral thinking thing and even a quick search will reveal tons of articles about the phenomenon, including:

For perhaps as long as a year, the song only had two verses drawn from those primordial mists. When I decided to get busy and get it recorded, I felt the song could use another verse. I actually made a conscious effort to come up with that third verse in the shower. Continuity, coincidence, or not, those were the waters from which the final verse sprung.

The next time you’re stuck for an idea, lyric, or melody, try hitting the showers.

Rinse and repeat, or leading with the preceding

As a straight-forward, traditional, blues shuffle, there’s not a lot of discussion to be had surrounding the music in the song. Except to say that it’s not in eight- or twelve-bar blues form. In fact, it’s not even as varied as those forms, spending most of its time on the one chord during the verses and the five chord during the bridges.

There is no true chorus in this song and that’s without any intent. I really just let this song take me on a ride, with the lyrics in the driver’s seat.

Lyrically, I think the pattern of transitions between verses is worth noting. I remember liking the juxtaposition of the same/similar word that I wrote at the end of the first verse and the beginning of the second. I managed to keep the pattern going by starting each new verse the same way.. So we have (in order): long/along; pride/proud; cries/cries. I think it helps drive the song forward.

Transition between verse one and two:
That’s how we get along.
As long as I’m not preachy.
Transition between verse three and four:
I wear my scars with pride.
Proud to kiss her sweetly,
Transition between verse five and six:
That’s why this bad boy cries.
Cries with joy not sorrow.

 

I’m sure there must be other songs that do this, although I can’t think of one at the moment (feel free to provide examples in the comments). One song that has a very similar, though much more clever idea is New York City by Ken Tobias, in which two of the lines in the first verse start with a word that can be interpreted as the last word of the previous line, without repeating the word. I suggest listening, using the link above to hear how well it worked and to hear this gorgeous song, if you’re not already familiar with it.

How could I
Ever spend a day without you
Here am I
Watching lonely people passing
By the way
How are things in New York City anyway?

New York City, Ken Tobias, Copyright 1977, Above Water Music, Gloosecap Music Publishing

Squeaky clean: Avoiding the expletive

Shortcomings was originally written with an expletive, in the second bridge. It used to say,  I still f*** up, still let her down. I even recorded that lyric, along with the alternate that took its place. So, why did I change it?

I liked the sound of the f-bomb there. I thought it was in character for the protagonist and motivated. In the end though, I couldn’t see limiting the song’s potential reach by having to label the song “explicit.” Is this selling out, or just being considerate and respectful of a large chunk of the population?

Throughout my life I have used and heard my fair share of curse words. I think most people have in this day and age. Even so, I cringe when I hear that particular word ring through the halls of the college where I work. It’s use by some people is so cavalier that sometimes it modifies nearly every noun in an overheard story of someone’s latest adventure in class or on the weekend.

In the Tightrope to the Sun blog, the article Don’t Run With Those Expletives examines the use of the f-word in four modern songs and comes to the following conclusion:

In all four of these songs, the reasoning behind the usage of profanity is clear.  They are all logical arguments.  Yet they do not convince me that the intention justifies the means.  In all of these cases, I believe the omission of the eff word would not harm the meaning of the song.  Surely there are some less attention-seeking, less shock-value synonyms out there.

So does my substitute, “messed up,” cut the mustard. I think so, and yet there is still a part of me that thinks the original effed up is just a little more authentic. But of course that was how I first wrote it, so I’m not very objective.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a comment.

Songwriting inspiration from the most mundane of things

The story of My Life On A Shelf couldn’t be simpler. I was literally (in the old-fashioned, actual meaning of the word) looking at some books on a shelf in the spare room, considering their history.

I don’t have an accumulation of a lifetime of possessions. Over a decade ago I moved to Abu Dhabi with my family and we had to purge a lot of our possessions. Some we chose to keep, even though it was a costly proposition. But getting rid of stuff also has its costs.

As I perused my remaining books, I noticed old geology texts, my sci-fi collection from high-school and university and thought about why they had survived the purge and were still with me. It occurred to me that they were markers in my life. I began to look through the rest of the apartment taking stock of what was around and how each item was once a part of me, even if it wasn’t anymore. Every item had something to say about who I was.

This song came fairly easily, though I did spend some time exploring the Em vs. the A chord in several position, eventually using a combination.

The lesson to be learned from this song is how even the most mundane of subjects, thoughts, and activities can inspire, if you look deep enough. Ask yourself some questions and don’t shy away from your feelings.

I know this is a rather short post. It’s that time of year where marking looms large in an college instructor’s life. Plus, I’ve got another song that I’d like to release and don’t want to break the rhythm of song, lyrics, article. I’m happy to answer any of your questions about this song. Just ask.