Sunday, October 25, 2015

Words and Music...



Playing the songwriting game is dirty work. It can be painstaking. It leads to ego and the dreaded "musical differences" which drives good musicians away from one another.

I quit a really good Metal band once because I couldn't get any ideas in the mix. It was stifling creatively for me. I felt like a hired gun who couldn't shoot. "Creative differences" forced my departure. I was unwilling to conform to the collective direction set forth by other members.

I'd show up with completed songs (not the approach these guys were used too). My stuff got shot down right away. They had a certain way to write. Lyrically and musically the guitar player was not willing to step outside of his box. There wasn't room for me. 

The band went on to have some regional success under another moniker. I enjoyed them as a fan. Musically, they had a demonic theme which was not to be strayed far from. They were very good at what they did.

Some lyric writers work in rhymes. Others are more concerned with cadence. Both approaches work. The content of the words excel the music into palatable songs. A great song is equal parts words and music flowing in harmony. 

In the past, some lyric writers considered themselves the main architect of the song, and have the publishing rights to prove it. This approach is true if a song is structured around a melody thought up by the lyricist. For me, formatting is equally important. Conceptually, it takes more than just a few words to write a song.

Another way (which fascinates me) involves a musician coming up with a riff, writing words on paper and telling a singer to make it work. This is a reverse problem, and takes a master in melody to make the words palatable over an arrangement.


In my next band, Domicile, we took a few approaches. Originally, songs were written in the basic form I was comfortable with, then formatted for the betterment of the band afterward. Later on, we took a different direction. "Jamming it out," became the norm. Our singer, who was cadence orientated, had most of the lyrics written before he heard any music at all. The magic happened when the core band members joined it all together. It was a humbling experience for me.

Rush is a great example of lyric writing outside of the music. Neal Peart (drummer) writes all of the lyrics. The band works out the songs together, and melody is approached from either a "how do we make these words flow?" standpoint, or a "write words to replace my scratch track" format. This approach works well for Rush.

I used to feel like the best songs wrote themselves. I know the feeling of a "song writing itself in 10 minutes." When it happens, it is magic. I still embrace that philosophy on occasion, but it rarely happens. More often it takes a village to craft a song. 

Lyrics and melody matter equally. I've found myself singing along to psycho-babble nonsense just as easily as straight forward ballads. I am a sucker for a good hook mixed with a vocal harmony.

The content has to matter from a relatable standpoint on some level. If you're hurting, you can feel the pain from a great song. If you want more from life, find inspiration from an artist's plight. If you want to feel good, you have only to turn on your radio... And so on.

For me, true art comes from true artists, not some "hit factory." If it's plainly made to feed the masses full of disposable rubbish, then it's disposable rubbish. However, we all have our favorite disposable rubbish moments. It's normal. Besides, with the amount of garbage pumped out each year, something has to strike a nerve with someone.

Do you watch a lot of TV? It's relatable. For every "Walking Dead," there are 17 shitty cop shows. I personally like "Longmire." There is no good reason. I caught a few episodes and got invested.

Because we are all very pop-culture oriented, music matters. A great song can change the world. Getting a song heard today is challenging, but if someone writes a song that is undeniably good, it will be heard. Even if only by a few souls.

So the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

Getting back to the first band I quit. There was magic in our practice space. My unwillingness to conform to someone else's ideas of songwriting caused my departure. For the betterment of me as an artist, it was inevitable. Hindsight tells me  It could have gone differently had I checked my ego. I have no regrets. The band I started afterward was more rewarding in every way possible. I learned a lot from the experience though. Some of the tricks I picked up on I still use to this day. 

You hopefully absorb some of the lessons. Ultimately, it is your story to write however you choose. Putting experiences on paper and sharing it with the world, even if the world doesn't listen, is a very unselfish act. Embrace it, regardless of how you do it. There is a reward spiritually if nothing else.

Most of all. Keep creating.

Nago







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