Sometimes I feel like a lump,
Of unrealized potential,
I used to think that I was on my way,
To being something special.
But I get distracted,
By things that don’t matter,
And I’ve followed far too many dead end trails.
As the years slip by it’s plain to see,
I’m not the man I’d hoped to be,
I’m primed to find a new philosophy,
Baby, let’s just be.
When we were young we both had dreams,
Of all that we could be,
I searched the ground for rocks, the sky for stars,
You were your mamma’s prodigy.
But I got distracted,
By my ignorance of beauty,
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Now you’re stuck with me and I with you,
Is there anything you’d rather do?
I’m more than fine, so speaking selfishly,
Baby, let’s just be.
BRIDGE
I want and you want and they want,
But it’s all just a taunt from society,
Let’s give and let’s take this chance to remake,
Our own reality.
Consumerism everywhere, well I’m not sold,
It ain’t consuming me.
You want to run away, escape,
But if you’re looking to be free,
Don’t get distracted,
By things that don’t matter,
Know there’s lots to learn down every dead end trail.
I’m content to travel anywhere,
Destination, I don’t care,
Everything I need is here with me,
Baby, let’s just be.
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This question was asked at the end of the movie Almost Famous (one of my favourites), when William finally gets his interview with Russell. The answer is that for any song to feel authentic the writer has to be feeling those same feelings. You can write a sad song without being sad, the same way you can tell people you love a gift that you don’t. The lie gets told, but it’s not felt and believed.
I had a friend who once maintained that you had to be miserable to write good music. I don’t believe this. But I do believe that you have to have genuine empathy.
Does anyone really want to write a sad song? I think you do have to be sad to write a sad song, but you don’t have to be a sad person. If you have ever been sad in your life, you can recall those circumstances and those feelings and draw upon them in your writing. If you are good at putting yourself into someone else’s place, good enough that you can feel what you would feel in their situation, you can draw upon those feelings. If you respond viscerally to art, whether it’s poetry, paintings, movies, or music, you can draw upon those feelings. But you do have to go there and you do have to feel it. That’s what makes your song authentic. That’s what makes it true.
I started If I Had Never one morning when I was particularly missing my wife, but she was only away for the weekend. I was feeling lonely – feeling it physically, right between my stomach and my chest. Sometimes I like to be alone, but for some reason this weekend was different. I knew I was lonely, not just alone, and inspired by it. It caused me to pose the question in the very first line and that, in turn, caused me to go deeper.
Why do they say it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved before?
The originating sentiment is from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem In Memoriam A.H.H.:
I hold it true, whate’er befall; They’ve got established scary motion pictures, fringe movement terror movies, scariest horror flicks along discount generic cialis with like that. A regular plant could operate for years together without any interruptions without any immediate maintenance issues to tackle. viagra online sales They should pack the product in a hygienic packing, to avoid the chances of contamination during free cialis no prescription the transit or storage. Penegra works like the real levitra online usa and is available at much lower prices on the market. I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
Tennyson’s poem is so heart wrenching, I may not have written this song if I had gone back to read the poem at the time the first line of the song occurred to me. He really says it all. But it seems to me that despite the widely accepted, oft-quoted, time-honoured truth of those lines, at a time of great loss they may, and perhaps should, be questioned, if only for each person to find their own personal truth within them.
Tennyson’s lines are now most often invoked at the end of a romantic relationship, but the poem from which they were drawn was written upon the sudden death of a lifelong friend, Arthur Henry Hallam. If I Had Never, could likewise be interpreted as the end of romantic relationship, but the circumstances in mind during writing were the death of a loved one.
It was a hard subject to explore, but life is such that there are so many places to draw inspiration from—the more personal the better.
There was a scene in the movie Indian Summer, where the character played by Diane Lane shoves pictures of her late husband into a drawer as she leaves her home for a trip, only to return and replace one of them back where it belongs. I filed lots of letters and photographs away after the end of an engagement, which while significantly less tragic than a death does bear some similarity of feeling and ties in with the option for the listener to interpret and feel the song at that “death of a relationship” level.
There are friends and relatives who have tragically lost spouses, children, and siblings. Even the loss of a dear pet can be devastating. And there was the morbid exploration of what if…
In retrospect, I think the song hits most of the stages of loss and grief, which somewhat validates the final product. I don’t think that I could have just decided to write this song. And I don’t think researching the song from sites like the one linked above would have led to the same results. You’ve got to feel it, even if you get there through an exercise of thought.
Why do they say it is better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved before?
I’m the one filing these letters and photographs,
Away in this empty drawer.
If I had never felt your touch,
If I had never felt your kiss,
If I had never known such bliss,
How would I know,
What I’m feeling now,
Isn’t solitude, but loneliness?
Finding my way through the fog of this pain is a climb,
So insurmountable,
Living a lie, telling everyone everything’s fine,
And not held accountable.
If I had never felt your touch,
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Screaming your name,
Streaming tears, shouting blame,
Wouldn’t so betray your tenderness.
BRIDGE:
You broke a promise,
Said you’d always stay,
I can’t forgive you,
Leastways not today,
Not yet anyway.
Shadows slip by as the sun scrapes the sky, etching fire,
And piercing the perfect blue.
Peeling away all the hurt and the grief ‘til I find,
That part of me’s made of you.
If I had never felt your touch,
If I had never felt your kiss,
If I had never known such bliss,
I’d still be here and you’d still be gone,
Nothing good could come of such a wish.
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https://soundcloud.com/stephensongtime/if-i-had-never
The song, Nevertheless, is a prime example of taking some everyday inspiration and ramping up the drama through extrapolation and imagination.
The phrase, nevertheless she turns and walks away, was something I once said under my breath when my wife, who was no doubt distracted at the time, totally ignored me while I was trying to engage her in conversation and left the room. As soon as I said it I saw the possibilities and wrote it down. It sets up a great opportunity to juxtapose opposites. Basically, despite what I do, what we had, etc, etc, you turn and walk away.
So the song is mostly made up, but even in a made up song, one can draw from one’s own life experience to ground the song. While I have had a few break ups of my own to draw upon, this song is not based upon any one of them in particular. Remembering back to those feelings is what inspires. My wife and I did once lose each other at the Eiffel Tower in Paris and although I can’t recall dancing in the rain with her, I do remember a wonderful rainy day that we shared at an amusement park (Canada’s Wonderland) early in our marriage. Those memories found their way into the choruses of Nevertheless.
When you do any kind of writing you are going to find that Oscar Wilde was right about life imitating art. This song was already completed, or nearly complete, when I learned of the end of my sister’s marriage and I think that my reaction to the news was tempered by my experience writing this song. Some of the re-writing was informed by this event and the civility that I witnessed in the midst of life-changing turmoil.
The song is presented as direct address with the phrase nevertheless you turn and walk away saved for the choruses. The verses progress through the story of a break up. Each verse focuses on the questions being asked by the singer and ends with a “nevertheless” phrase.
Nevertheless, the whole world sees you’re blue.
Nevertheless, I’m right here by your side.
Nevertheless, the question still gets asked.
Nevertheless, I’ll help you pack your things.
Nevertheless you might come back some day.
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I’ve always loved the word nevertheless and its cousin nonetheless, because of their total disregard for spaces, or hyphens.
Despite the up tempo musical feel, the lyrics are quite melancholy. She’s leaving and nothing he can say or do is going to stop her, but he recognizes this. He doesn’t understand why she’s leaving, but he’s resigned to letting her go, even helping her, while still holding out hope that someday she’ll come back.
The song is punctuated by a guitar riff with a slap-back reverb on it at the end of the first two lines of the verses (the voicing on the riff is varied slightly for use in verse two) and then switches to a simple interval drop, reminiscent of a doorbell punctuating the questions. The slap-back reverb imparts a retro feel that I felt suited the song.
The bridge offers the possible explanation for her leaving, but the explanation seems to come from elsewhere, maybe the singer’s subconscious. The style in the bridge is driven by a synth pad that gives it a more ethereal feel than the verses or choruses.
Here’s a previous incarnation of the bridge:
Find your neutral corner, Although it’s filled with doubt, But you can’t stay there forever, You’re gonna have to punch it out.
It is often said that writing is re-writing, and I’m learning that lyric writing is no different. I’m sure the lyrics above would not have ended up with the same melody. Luckily I came up with a better pass at the bridge and it came at time when I was away from the house, which I know because it’s separate from all the other lyrics in one of my trusty Moleskins. I think you will agree that despite how far we’ve come, the starlet/stage/spotlight metaphor in the final song is much more suitably feminine than the boxer/corner/punching metaphor.
The new bridge also has more truth in it. My wife is amazing and in many ways I do feel like she gave up the spotlight (and many other things) to raise our children and take care of almost all the household duties. She is a busy, hard-working person and to bring us back full circle, I will tell you that she has every right to turn and walk away when I’m blathering on about something inconsequential.
The truck driver’s gear change
Coming out of the bridge we have what is sometimes referred to as the truck driver’s gear change. The key goes up one tone, from A to B. I’m rather proud that this is done in what I consider, an unobtrusive manner. Did you even notice that it went up?
This is a tool often used to introduce a change in energy as the song repeats a chorus. Barry Manilow was a master of this modulation, or a master perpetrator (depending on how you look at it). But in the case of Nevertheless, the modulation occurs as we go from the bridge to the final verse, so we are coming out of new lyrics and melody, into new lyrics, and although the song likely benefits from a little artificial increase in energy, the more objectionable observations made about such modulations are masked. Nevertheless, you might want to check out The Truck Driver’s Gear Change Hall of Shame for more information.
Tell me what’s wrong,
Why are you cryin’?
Tell me it’s fine,
I know that you’re lyin’.
Can I ask a question?
Is there anything that I can do?
Do you know the reason?
Nevertheless, the whole world sees you’re blue.
Distant and cold,
Words ringing hollow,
Pulling away,
To where I can’t follow.
Why is this all happening?
Where were you last night (just let me in)?
Who were you this morning?
Nevertheless I’m right here by your side.
We danced in a rain shower (soaked our clothes),
We dried by the fire (in its glow),
Nevertheless you turn and walk away.
Into your past,
Far from our present,
Are you feeling the need,
For something to lament?
Who am I to ask that?
How dare I presume to know your thoughts?
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Remember in Paris (what we found),
Turned losing each other upside down,
Nevertheless you turn and walk away.
BRIDGE:
Wait in the wings,
The starlet passing on the spotlight for a ring,
To wear in place of glory.
Cast it aside,
History writes this as the day you lived or died,
It’s time to change the story.
You’re no longer here,
Where are you going?
What becomes of me?
I’ve no way of knowing.
What time are you leaving?
Why can’t you just cash that ticket in?
I’m not done believin’
Nevertheless I’ll help you pack your things.
I’m not gonna shed a single tear,
You go find your future without fear,
Nevertheless you might come back some day.
We danced in a rain shower (soaked our clothes),
We dried by the fire (in its glow),
Nevertheless you turned and walked away.
Nevertheless you turned and walked away.
Nevertheless you turned and walked away.
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Where do your songs come from? Where does your inspiration come from? What’s the story behind that song?
These can be both fascinating and frustrating questions for songwriters. I think writers who find these types of questions fascinating (most) are into self-reflection and often learn as much about themselves as the questioners do. I think about these question a lot and ask them of myself, but I’m a college instructor by trade, kind of analytical by nature, and I’ve been thinking about blogging about songwriting for years.
I think those that get frustrated by such questions have either been asked them too much (now there’s a problem I’d like to have), want their songs to stand on their own merit, or have just been taken off guard.
The answers to these questions are often very personal, maybe even painful, but not always. Sometimes it’s hard to answer them, because we just can’t pinpoint where the moment of inspiration came from, or because it really seemed to come from somewhere outside ourselves. Obviously this is a topic that we can revisit and expand upon in the future. If you are interested on how songs come to be and like The Guess Who, BTO or Randy’s solo career, I highly recommend Randy Bachman’s Every Song Tells A Story.
I’m going to try my best not to hold back in this blog, but it won’t always be easy, and I won’t always succeed. Not to worry for this first song though.
I bought a new guitar this spring, an acoustic guitar, a little beauty with a spruce top and rosewood sides and back. I didn’t go out to buy this particular model. I went out to buy an acoustic/electric and did find one that I was very satisfied with, but sometimes you just fall in love, Inexplicably, almost by chance.
So that happened.
But, so did this. I started watching Guitar Picks, with Kim Mitchell on AuxTV (also on HiFi). There is often a segment featuring a manufacturer or luthier making guitars, and there is almost always a discussion on selecting the woods. One episode even visited Canadian manufacturer Godin, maker of my new Simon & Patrick guitar.
Those two ingredients likely began the unconscious rumination process. I loved playing this new guitar and couldn’t bear to leave it behind when we went for a visit to Toronto for the weekend. I even played a couple of my other tunes for my mother-in-law on my new guitar— groundbreaking for someone who rarely has the nerve to play in front of anyone.
Low and behold, I wake up Sunday morning in Toronto with most of a chorus rattling round in my head and I have to get it down. Usually I’ve got my trusty moleskin with me for writing lyrics down and I quite likely had it with me that time, but it’s rare that the melody and lyrics come at the same time for me and not as easy to capture melody in the moleskin. So I got up quickly and rushed down to the half-bath off the foyer and recorded a voice memo to my iPod.
As rough as that is, It’s pretty amazing that it was born all together (note the improvised lines at the end). That doesn’t usually happen, but there it was. It’s important that you remain open to this sort of inspiration, learn to recognize it, and grab that idea while it’s fresh, by any means at your disposal—napkin, business card, calling your own voicemail—whatever you can do to recall it later.
I spent two weeks nearly every summer of my childhood on the Canadian Shield at my uncle’s cottage. I’ve lived on the prairie in Brandon, Manitoba. I’ve driven through and camped in the Canadian Rockies. I’ve been to Vancouver, the Sunshine Coast and Vancouver Island, though I haven’t been to the east coast since age four or so (this needs to be rectified). It isn’t too hard to imagine that my brain, probably while I was sleeping, exaggerated this little trip to Toronto with my brand new guitar onto a much more grandiose canvas. We will return to this idea of exaggeration/extrapolation as a songwriting technique when discussing other songs in future posts. I often use it consciously in my songwriting. When you are under stress, you run the risk of raised blood free shipping viagra pressure in pregnancy (Pre-eclampsia). Ashwagandha plays a vital role to strengthen weak nerves and tissues viagra side online and boost stamina. Even after a decade today, viagra discounts remains one of the most recent pharmaceuticals made accessible in the business sector which goes about as a successful medication for all age ED patients. Guys that are sequence smokers or perhaps ingestion alcohol consumption in excess must understand in which simple get viagra will not present the wanted brings about their particular human body.
So I returned to Kitchener with what essentially became the chorus.
I take my guitar and play the prairie,
I take my guitar and play the shield,
I take my guitar and play the mountain,
I take my guitar and play each wave against each shore,
That’s what this singin’ wood is for.
I think it is important that the performer is playing the prairie, the shield, the mountain, rather than playing on them. It helps reinforce that these places have intrinsic stories to be told and it creates a connection with the story of the tree that is developed through the verses.
The idea of the guitar being born of wood came from all those episodes of Guitar Picks for sure. The three verses are just three acts from a tree’s life on its way to becoming a guitar, with the bridge providing the dramatic turning point towards its death or sacrifice.
A tree grows strong
A tree stands tall
A tree’s brought down
I liked the idea of the tree collecting stories that it can’t tell until it gets its voice—listening through the wind to one and all.
One concern I have is that I don’t want anyone to think that I’m glorifying tree harvesting, especially with some very real concerns of late about where some guitar wood has come from in the past.
But a song is not a research article or a balanced news story. It has to be focused on one idea. For My Guitar (Singin’ Wood) is me contemplating and idealizing the life that a tree (or trees) gave up for my guitar and the care that a luthier (or several) took in crafting it.
So that is where we’ll leave the first songwriting process post and the story of For My Guitar (Singin’ Wood), but I am happy to answer any questions you might have through the comments.
(For an excellent song with a completely different theme, check out Bob Bossin’s Sulphur Passage, which became an anthem in opposition of clear-cutting old growth forests on the west coast.)
A tree grows strong,
By taking what’s below and,
Moving it along,
Up into the light,
Where it can see the dawn,
Bridging ground and sky as it is formed.
CHORUS:
I take my guitar and play the prairie,
I take my guitar and play the shield,
I take my guitar and play the mountain,
I take my guitar and play each wave against each shore,
That’s what this singin’ wood is for.
A tree stands tall,
Listening through the wind,
To one and all,
Stories find their way,
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REPEAT CHORUS
BRIDGE
Twig snap,
Birds take to the sky,
Red blaze,
Marks those about to die.
A tree’s brought down,
Chopped and cut, the pieces,
Passed all around,
A practiced hand takes care,
To shape some for its sound,
Given strings its voice is finally found,
Given strings its voice is finally found.
REPEAT CHORUS
(Note: In the next post I’ll be discussing the songwriting process for this song)
