Song #2 For My Concept Album

Oh, you thought I was going to wait six months, didn't you?

Ha HA! Not so fast! Just because I said I was only going to write a song every six months doesn't mean that I was going to stick by that.

Silly you and me!

I wrote song #2 tonight for my concept album, which I have tentatively decided to call, "The Gray and the Blue". Although I am going to be dying my hair soon, so the "gray" stuff will be moot.

I was thinking; the whole "old" topic can't necessarily be a downer. There must be something good about getting older, right?

So, I searched and searched my brain, trying to come up with something upbeat. And I think I did it; at least tonight. Tomorrow, it might look pathetic. But, in my view, tomorrows are things one needs to deal with tomorrow.

So, I wrote song #2 tonight. It's called, "My Front Porch".

The lyrics are thus:

Did you ever see
Clouds alabaster white
Sit down with me
In my front porch sunlight

Pretty new wildflowers
Catchin’ the morning breeze
Well, did you see
Just come here sit with me

So many years
I rushed on by them
Restless thoughts and tears
High-heeled shoes and sleepless nights
And silly useless fears

Sit right here, I’ll fix you a cool
Summer drink
Maybe a pillow
Rest your head, don’t think

Feel the sun warm your face
And fill your eyes
Life is funny
If you miss it, it’ll pass by

So worried ‘bout things
That seemed to matter
My eyes were mostly closed
Every day, I kept getting sadder
And I didn’t know

It’s so much nicer
Here in the amber moonlight
It’s such a good world
On my front porch tonight

© Michelle Anderson 09-02-11


Hey, they all can't be Simon & Garfunkel-like material. I work with the tools that I have. Which consists of my brain and my not-so-nimble fingers, which really are aching right now, because I don't really strum my guitar that often; only when absolutely necessary.

And frankly, it's late, and I need to go to bed. I don't even know what I'm typing right now. So, if you like it, cool! If you think it's lame, well, you're most likely right.

I guess I will find out tomorrow.

And now I go sleepy time. Thank you for your continuing support of the elderly.

Song #1 For My Concept Album

After my snarky post last night (and I have no regrets!), I thought it might be a refreshing change to get back to what it is that I do.

What I do, exactly, is somewhat indeterminable. However, sometimes I write songs.

I've decided to take the "go slow" approach to songwriting. That is, write a new song every six months or so. In that way, I will have my concept album completed in approximately the year 2017. I will, therefore, be age 62, and will have LOTS of fodder for songs that fit my concept of growing older! It's a win-win!

You know us old people ~ we have lots of irons in the fire! We're busy. Busy counting out our daily pills, and trying to get down the stairs.

My one concern with taking six years to complete these songs is that I may become befuddled, and thus unable to form coherent thoughts. You know, sort of like Taylor Swift.

That is the chance one takes, however, when one decides that one is unable to write one measly song in the span of half a year, for God's sake.

You would think, after all that time, that the song would be absolutely FANTABULOUS. Well, I've set my sights a bit lower than that. When you're elderly, you learn to adjust your expectations. I'll settle for "eh, it's okay."

Bear in mind, however, that with the full studio treatment, any piece of festering, rotting garbage can sound exquisite! Again, much like Taylor Swift's songs.

So, without further a-dooo, here is song number one for my concept album, and if you care, or even if you don't (it really doesn't matter, since, as I've learned, mostly imaginary people are "reading" this blog), here are the lyrics:

Things never change
In this rundown town
Except it gets more
Run down

People disappear
And they never come back
And the store windows
Are black

They say why you don’t you go
I say hell if I know
Is it any better someplace else

The devil that you know
Might not give a real good show
But I’ve determined life
Is just like that

I walk down the streets
Of this rundown town
I can close my eyes
And know the way

From time to time somebody goes
Leaves little curios behind
I pick them up
And haul them away

They say why don’t you go
I say hell if I know
It don’t feel like this is my day

The cracks are getting deeper
And my bones startin’ to moan
But I’ve determined life
Is just that way

© Michelle Anderson 08-19-11


I suddenly realized that I'm supposed to include a video here, aren't I? Stupid video blog.

Well, I can't really find anything (or think of anything) that pertains to the subject at hand, so, when all else fails, I like to just fall back on something that I like, so here you go....

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Restless Heart. I realize that Larry Stewart is still out there performing, of course. But really, it's not the same, and it just can't be.

This video is from a time when country music was COOL, and not LAME. And it was still COUNTRY. Us senior citizens still remember that time. That's the advantage to being old, like me. One still remembers when music was GOOD, and not LAME (Oh, I already said that, didn't I? That's what happens....)

If I'm Going to Continue With this Songwriting Thing....

Actually, I just wanted to look at the pretty picture.

Sgt. Pepper is credited with being one of the very first concept albums.

It's also often cited in various polls as the best Beatles album. I disagree. In fact, it wouldn't rank very highly in my own personal poll. For the record, my personal favorites are Help!, Rubber Soul, and Revolver, in that order. Yes, I may be one of the few dorks who thinks that Help! is their best album, but well, that's just me, and that's how I roll.

But I digress from the title of this post, don't I?

After writing a song, finally, after six long months of a dry spell (actually, it was six long months of not really giving a damn about songwriting, to be honest), I got to thinking...

If I'm going to continue with this songwriting thing ("thing" being a technical term), I would like to do a concept album (albeit, an album only in my mind, since I do not have the wherewithal to actually record an album by myself).

But let's just pretend that I was capable of recording an album.

If that were true, I'd like to write songs fitting a specific concept.

That, above all, would actually make songwriting interesting to me. Which, in the here and now, it is not.

It would be a challenge. It would be a goal for which I could strive. Goals are good. Without goals, everyone would just be mediocre, wouldn't they? Sort of like the real world (oops).

But since songwriting is not the real world; it's a fantasy world, this whole concept goal would be a good thing. It would keep me entertained. And lord knows, I would be nothing without my personal entertainment.

Help!, by the way, is a concept album. I don't care what anybody says. Maybe they didn't intend for it to be so, but that's how it sounded, at least to me.

So, that is the thought (the concept thing ~ I know I have veered off topic once again) that is currently rolling around in my mind.

Who knows? Not me! Something could come of it. I would be willing to give it a go. I already have the concept formulated; now all I have to do is execute it. That's the easy part (ha!)

If you've managed to read this far into my post, kudos! It's been kind of a personal rumination, but I thank you for following along.

In appreciation for your continued indulgence, I thought I would post some videos of the songs from my favorite concept album, Help!





A few sync problems here...Ringo's tambourine jingles before he even hits it...



Really appreciate this live version:





And I'll end with my VERY FAVORITE. Yes, this is my VERY FAVORITE. There are two Beatles songs that are my VERY FAVORITES. One was from Rubber Soul, and the other is this one:



You can have your Lady Madonnas and your Hey Judes and your Penny Lanes (although that's a pretty good one). I'll take the one above. 1965. It was a very good year. Apparently. I don't remember much of it, because I was only 10, but I do, absolutely, remember this album. This concept album.

P.S. "Help!" as a movie, was actually pretty silly. But I'm not here to judge movies. At least, not today.

Writing Again (At Least One More Time)

Yes, this is an example of how I write. I'm not proud of it, exactly, but it is what it is. I look at it as a way to entertain people, since so many feel compelled to comment on my handwriting style.

And, I have the added bonus of writing exactly like President Obama writes. No offense, President Obama, but you really look like a dork writing that way. Take it from one who knows.

Be that as it may, I have written (not "handwritten") a song, after yes, six months of non-writing.

To be frank, I wanted to know if I could still do it.

I'm not one of those "songwriting is my passion" sort of people. My passion is writing, period. But not necessarily songwriting. And not preferably songwriting.

Songwriting sometimes seems like it's more complicated than it's worth. You have to come up with chords, for one thing. And a melody. My natural mind doesn't actually work that way.

The words are pretty easy. It's all the other stuff that's hard.

But people tend to like things bundled into a neat little package, so songs, I guess, are the way to go.

So, I wrote one tonight.

It's not going anywhere, but nevertheless. I, at least, proved to myself that I could still do it. That, in itself, is worth the approximately two hours I spent on the exercise.

I'm finding myself getting away from songwriting. Face it, unless you're Paul Simon or someone (and even if you are Paul Simon), nobody cares. It's all just expendable. Music has been devalued, much like my 401K plan.

So, really, it's just an exercise. But one has to keep those creative juices flowing, right?

So, I did it. I wrote me a song, after six long months. I think I'll post it to my ReverbNation site. Sometime. Or maybe not.

It's really just the "doing" that counts.

Nashville Co-Writing

The best way to NOT gain friends and influence people is to criticize the fad of Nashville co-writing, but here I go.

To me, it's the bane of music's existence.

Inevitably, like any fad, at some point, co-writing is going to be considered passe, naive, and uncool.

Every woman is wearing those fancy flip-flops, with the jewels and flowers, too. In five years, they'll be cleaning out their closets, unceremoniously dumping those "stupid-a$$" shoes in the trash.

Lennon and McCartney didn't actually co-write songs, you know. Merle didn't need a co-writer.

To me, if you are incapable of writing a whole song by yourself, maybe you should reconsider your hobby or your vocation or whatever you consider it to be.

Here's the deal: I thought songs were supposed to be meaningful. An expression of emotion. How does that work with co-writing?

Writer: Here's how I've been feeling lately, and I think it would make a
good song.

Co-writer: Oh, I know exactly how you feel. And it goes like this: ("strum
strum strum.....crying")

Writer: That's not exactly how I feel.

Co-writer: Sure it is.


Here's how it REALLY works:

Writer: I want to write something commercial.

Co-writer: Oh, I know exactly how you feel, and it goes like this: ("strum strum strum....tractor")

Writer: That's it!


Bob Dylan to his (imaginary) co-writer: You know what I mean, right?

Imaginary co-writer: No.


Harlan Howard used to hang out at his favorite watering hole and listen to people's stories. He didn't "invent" emotions. I'm not claiming that Harlan never co-wrote a song. I'm saying he didn't need to.

If co-writing is such a wonderful revelation, why are the songs on the radio so crappy? Why do they all say the same thing?

Here's why they all say the same thing: The Nashville writer goes from appointment to appointment, carefully monitoring his day planner, so he doesn't miss his next "session".

Since when do great songs get written on a schedule? I've had songs come to me in the middle of the night. Do I get up, get dressed, and go padding down the street in my bunny slippers, to ring another writer's doorbell, demanding to be admitted into his "writing room", so we can scribble out a hit? And is a writing room really necessary? Does one need a formal "room" in which to write songs? My my, what in the world did writers do in the olden days?


Merle Haggard to his (imaginary) co-writer: I want to write a song about the working man.

Imaginary co-writer: I know exactly what you mean, and it goes like this: ("strum strum strum.....boots and wranglers")

Merle Haggard: No.


I've been reading ad nauseam about "the only way to make it in the biz is to co-write" for far too long. Face it, there is no way to make it in the music biz anyway. So, why go to all this trouble?

The thing that kicked this topic into gear for me was reading an article in WSJ this week about singer Ashton Shepherd.

I'd never heard the gal before, so when I read the word, "traditionalist", my interest was piqued.

To clarify, she is not a traditionalist at all....unless you consider traditional country's peak to be approximately the year 2009.


Ashton Shepherd

It's pleasing to picture Ms. Shepherd at home on the porch with a guitar, writing her songs, solo, and many of her slow, personal ballads were born right there. But she's recently found Music Row style co-writing, working with such proven hit-making veterans as Dean Dillon and Bobby Pinson—an energizing alternative, especially for the faster songs on her record.

"I was a little leery of it, but it really ended up being pretty cool, and I've learned some things off of it....I knew this was going to work out. And we sat there and wrote '(blah blah blah)' in about 45 minutes. I like things spontaneous, and first-time kinds of things, and that was the first song we ever wrote together, which makes it a little more sparkly."

Perhaps she should move back to the front porch. Don't get me wrong, I like Dean Dillon. And he's an apparent legendary co-writer, it seems. I'm just saying, I listened to snippets of Ashton's songs online, and I didn't like even one of them. Unfortunately. Not one of them was "sparkly". No offense.

If you can write a good song, just write it. Don't set up an appointment.

If you can't write a good song, a co-write isn't going to help. It will, in fact, make things worse.


How many songwriters does it take to write a hit song?

Four (apparently).

I have no punchline for this; sorry. I'm open to a co-write on the joke, though.


Here's a little secret I have never shared: When I was a kid (or tweenager, as they call them nowadays), way back in the 1800's, my parents owned a motel on the outskirts of the wild and woolly town of Bismarck, North Dakota.

One day, my best friend, Alice, and I came home from school on the bus, excitedly anticipating the Merle Haggard concert that evening.

Turns out, that wasn't the pinnacle of our excitement. You see, my mom was anxiously awaiting our arrival on the bus....to let us know that, YIPPEE!! Guess who'd checked into the motel?? Merle and Bonnie!

I won't share the embarrassing details regarding Alice's and my actions that day. Okay, well, let's just say we walked and walked and walked and walked in circles around that motel, surreptitiously (we wished) conducting surveillance on that room, Number Twenty-Seven. We were there, hiding in the bushes (okay, there weren't any actual bushes) when Merle stepped out to walk his dog. I think (okay, I know) we hauled out my little portable battery-operated record player, and played the "Mama Tried" single over and over, approximately 200 yards from good old number 27. What must Merle have thought? Get me away from these lunatics?

Naturally, then, I like to think that Merle wrote this song while whiling away the hours until he had to board the bus for his concert, strumming his acoustic, to drown out the noise of two giggly girls encamped outside his room.

Yes, Bonnie Owens is credited as a co-writer. But I read the words straight from Bonnie's mouth: What she told Merle to do was to lose the third verse. So, don't jump on me, saying that Bonnie co-wrote the song, because she didn't.



Look! Merle wrote a song....all by himself! Isn't that precious? Little Merle. I suppose he thinks he'll get a hit with it, too. Oh, if only he'd had someone help him.

Let's set him up with some appointments.

Revisitations

During these, the dog days of summer

If the dog days are at the end of summer, what kind of days are at the beginning?

During these, the cat days of summer, when my songwriting inspiration is at a low ebb, I've been thinking about revisiting some of my older songs.

Sure, I've said in the past that songs are "either there or they're not". And I'm not arguing with myself (or am I?) I do argue with myself quite frequently, but that's, thankfully, only in my head, and not out loud. If I argued with myself out loud, that would be grounds for involuntary confinement, and I, frankly, get enough involuntary confinement 40 hours a week.

So, I've digressed once again.

What I started to say was, yes, I have said that songs are either there or they're not, but by revisiting old songs, I'm talking about finished songs. Ones that I did think were "there" when I wrote them.

Normally, I shudder at the thought of going back to a song that's finished. First of all, the inspiration that was there then, is really not here now. It's like, okay, let's say, typing a long email to a friend (I was going to say writing a letter, but HA! Who does that anymore?) And getting interrupted in the middle of typing, and for whatever reason, not being able to get back to it for a week (of course, you have saved a draft, because you are not a moron).

You were really on a roll there; shooting the breeze about all the quirky things that happened to you on your recent vacation. You started to share a really funny anecdote about the mix-up with your hotel reservations, and all the hilarity that ensued, and then.....oh oh......power outage! (Luckily, your email provider saved a draft of the email, because Yahoo is not a moron).

So, after a week of ditching spoiled food from your refrigerator, and washing two tons of dirty laundry, you finally get back to that email you started.

And you read what you wrote, and awkwardly add, "...and then we got our room, and we went in and put our bags down, and it was fine".

You kind of lost your mojo there, eh?

Well, that's how the human mind works. We have short attention spans, and even shorter creative attention spans. I've walked through the door of my workplace in the morning, thinking, I've got to remember to do _______. Oh, I'd better write that down as soon as I get to my desk, because I know me; I'll forget to do it. Well, whaddaya know? I forget to even write it down! And that's after walking approximately 20 steps from the door to my desk. Our minds are crammed with so much "stuff", it's like our brain cells are having a pillow fight.

And it's even worse when those brain cells get interrupted. Something that seemed so engrossing at the time, now, we're thinking, eh. Really? I actually found this interesting?

Thus, returning to a song I wrote in October of 2010 just doesn't have the cache that's required to pique my interest.

That said (and here I go, arguing with myself again), it's better than wasting my time trying to find six more lines to go with the already written six lines of my latest song that will probably actually never be a song, because it's so woefully uninspired that my cat took one look at the lyrics on my screen and promptly fell into a deep snooze (and Bob is preternaturally fascinated by anything having to do with computers, especially printers spewing out mysterious paper sheets).

The reason the Summer of '67 (the October-written song) sprang to mind is, (a) I like the sentiment....a lot; and (b) it's all true, and it happened to me!; and (c) well, I wrote the words in a way that really show the story (you know that old axiom; "show, not tell". I really hate old axioms, because they're boring and repetitious).

I remember the night that I wrote it. I was feeling pretty sentimental about my best childhood friend, Alice. I think I had just written another song about her (yea, I've written at least five songs about her, I believe). And I got to thinking about the times we'd shared, especially in the summer, when we were really just kids (which basically encompasses the whole time I spent with Alice, because we did grow up together, before our lives diverged).

Anyone who's lost someone knows that there's a big hole in your heart, but more than that, especially if that person is someone you grew up with, anytime you think about experiences, funny or poignant or anything, really, that suddenly leaps into your mind, and you wanna say, "Remember the time...?", and that person is no longer even in this world, it's like your memories don't quite mean as much, because nobody is here who understands, who relates to, or can even fathom what you're babbling about. And I think it's even more difficult if those memories are from the time you were growing up, because studies will tell you (invent your own link here to some relevant scientific study), those experiences are the most vivid of any you will ever have in your life, and they are the ones that shape you, to a large extent, as a person.

I find, though, in light of the fact that I don't have anyone to share those memories with, that if I write them in the form of a song, they kind of become universal. They become real; not just to me, you know?

The problem I always had with "Summer of '67" was that it was, for all intents and purposes, really a narrative. I tried to come up with a chorus, to break things up, but it seemed forced and not true to the story. That always bugged me.

Maybe it is what it is. A guy named Kristofferson wrote some songs that were really just (and I don't mean "just") narratives. For example, okay, this one does have a chorus, but it's really similar to the verses. There's not much differentiation (and yet, I really like this song. Chalk it up to the fact that Faron Young, to me, was one of the best country singers of all time, plus I am a Kristofferson believer).



And, of course, this one:



I guess if you can write lines like those in Sunday Morning Comin' Down, then choruses be damned (and yes, I know there is a chorus in this song. It's just that it doesn't really, in actuality, create a whole lot of diversity within the song itself). My song isn't anywhere near this one, and in fact, if anyone was to say it was, their body would spontaneously burst into flames, and they would be committed to the same institution in which I have been incarcerated (and fare warning, I do snore).

Thus, I do need a decent chorus.

Why bother? Well, I like the song, and it has meaning for me. Nobody in the world is going to care, because of the two people in the world who would, I'm the only one left. So, I care.

I'm only sharing the link to demonstrate that the song isn't finished. It needs work.

If you weren't there, you couldn't even know. I, however, want to know. And I want to write a song that's worthy of me knowing.

Delirious

Songwriters are a delirious lot.

(By the way, thanks, John Candy, for the photo. I miss John Candy).

Why are songwriters delirious? Well, don't you have to be, to be a songwriter?

What prompted this post was me again, reading those songwriting forums (I'm a reader and a non-contributor).

On one of the boards, there's a whole big discussion about "expensive demos"; the pros and cons ("cons" being a good descriptive word).

Apparently, one has to pay upwards of $1000.00 to get a "good" demo. The "non-good" demos can be had for a bit less.

Do Regular Joes really do this? I'm not talking about the successful Nashville songwriters, like the old standbys that are always mentioned: Jeffrey Steele, Craig Wiseman, etc. (like I'm supposed to know and/or care who they are). They can obviously afford to get those "good" demos done, because they're writing hit songs; you know, the ones that you'd hear on the radio, if the thought of turning on the radio didn't make you nauseous.

No, I'm talking about the everyday garden-variety songwriters, who spend so much time on songwriting boards that one wonders when they have the time to actually write a song.

Most of the songs I've taken the time to listen to, on these boards, are so-so at best (as would mine be, if I chose to share them, which I don't).

Who's got that kind of money to spend to get one of the "good", or even "non-good" demos made? I think they all must be wealthy retirees, since they're hanging around songwriting forums about 18 hours a day. So, maybe they do have the money.

I just think it's such a pipe dream.

First of all, the established songwriters have the "in" with the producers or artists or whoever the heck it is that makes decisions.

Why in the world would they even listen to Mr. Wealthy Retiree's song?

A related point: Those internet sites that are advertising "Looking for songs for Kenny Chesney" (or whomever)...what?? I think it's just a scheme. Why does Kenny Chesney's producer or record label (or whoever makes those decisions) need to troll the internet for songs? They've got people breaking down their door to hand them songs.

Awhile back, I forked over $14.00 for a chance to submit a song to "_______, successful female country artist", (and $14.00 really is my top offer, which is why I will never have a good or non-good demo made).

You know, it's the excitement of reading the opportunity, and thinking, "Hey, wouldn't it be great if I could get my song recorded by Successful Female Country Artist?"

It was only later, when I got my detailed critique, which stated, in its entirety, "not quite what we're looking for", that the realization hit me: Are you an idiot?? Successful Female Country Artist doesn't need my songs.

Well, a day late and $14.00 short; that's me.

On the plus side, I didn't spend the money to get a good demo made of the song, or else it would have cost me $1014.00, rather than $14.00.

To be cynically honest, any piece of junk can be made to sound good, if one is willing to spend the money. Just listen to the radio, for pete's sake!

I'm just not into that game. Maybe if I was 20 (or 30) years younger. Maybe then I'd have the drive to write a song just like the ones that are played on the radio; just for that shot of possibly making some dough, and losing my self-respect (oops, did I say that?)

By the by, the consensus on that songwriting board is that, yes, you do need to spend the money. I'll have to check back to see if anyone bothers to mention that you're throwing your money away by doing so.

P.S. If anybody knows of a good songwriting forum, give me a holler. There are two that I view on a semi-regular basis, but they've both got their issues. One is a pat-on-the-back coffee klatch for any number of horrible to semi-horrible songs. The other is some kind of all-men's club, that features all manner of discussions regarding pretty much anything other than music. So, what I'm looking for is a board that is non-juvenile, and interesting.

P.P.S. Why is it that women so rarely become involved in discussions of the music industry, or basically of music in general, on these boards? Their contributions seem to consist of posting up their latest lyrics, and....I guess that's it. Am I the only female who's actually interested in the music biz? I can't believe that's the case. If it is, man, I'm sorely disappointed in my gender. Maybe they're all just too busy going shopping or something.

I leave you with the theme song of this post. As you may know, Prince is notoriously shy about sharing his videos, so here is a fan-generated one. (I like this song!)

Six Lines

One of the many nuggets of advice a songwriter often receives is to go away from a song for awhile. Come back later, and voila! Inspiration arrives!

I've never been a proponent of leaving a song alone. It's usually there or it isn't.

Sure, it doesn't come out fully formed! Unless you're some kind of idiot savant. But, I mean, the basic song is "there". You need to mess with some lines and switch things around, and bang your head against the desk a few times, but there it is!

So, here I am. I haven't written a song since February (during FAWM), when I wrote 14, thank you very much.

Long weekends are great opportunities for me to get some "me time" (ha ha), meaning, time to work on something other than laundry and housecleaning, so I thought, geez, I really should write a song.

Therefore, I sat down with my acoustic, dusted it off (literally), and waited to see what would come out. And then I waited.

I always like A minor, so I tried some chord progressions around that. (Okay, truth be told, most of my songs are written in the key of G. Most? How about 96%? It's some kind of weird compulsion I have, I think. Plus, it fits my voice. Okay, we'll go with that).

And A minor isn't that far away, vocally, from G. But I really wasn't looking to write a "happy" song (therefore, not "G"). I wanted something a bit...I don't know, wistful. We'd just returned from a trip to the North Shore, where we'd spent a foggy rainy weekend, with the waves of Lake Superior crashing against the rocks. Ahh, heaven. So, since I had absolutely no inspiration on which to base a song, I thought, how about something foggy and rainy, with waves crashing? And make it a song about lost love (duh).

I got a bit of melody going (Was it a verse or a chorus? Don't know!) Then I tried writing some words to go with it.

I got SIX LINES! Six! Then I was done for the night. As the title of one of my FAWM songs says, "I Got Nothin'". (That song, by the way, came about because I really did have nothing; nothing to write about. It was number 13, and thus quite late in the game. Turns out, I had somethin', because that song turned into a nice, quirky little bit of somethin'/nothin').

I just tonight opened up Audacity to listen to what I'd done. All six lines. And you know what? I don't like it.

The measly six lines of lyrics, okay. The chord progression, no. All wrong. I don't know what I was thinking. The song needs to be restarted. Am I inspired to restart it? No. I'm not inspired, period.

Writers always want to credit the "muse" for their inspiration. Well, I'll tell you what. I can honestly say that the muse maybe visited me ONCE, but as I recall, she made me put a whole lot of work into the damn song, so apparently the muse is a practical joker. And as I've mentioned in the past, only three people even LIKE that song, and I'm one of the three! So, she's cruel, too.

So, muse shmuze. Call it what you will. In my experience, writing songs is having an idea or a chord progression, and sitting down and WORKING. I prefer to call it Imagination. When songwriters are talking about some magical "muse" that happened to visit them, I think I'll say, oh, I know exactly what you mean! My IMAGINATION visited me today! Why the heck do I want to give someone else credit for my work anyway? SHE didn't sit down and hammer out the chords. SHE didn't play around with and move lines and try to come up with stupid rhymes, changing a line I liked for something else, because I couldn't find a good rhyme for "praying". I did that. She just sat on my window sill, chain smoking, and throwing out little cynical insults every now and then. "Boy, it's sure taking you a long time to get that chorus right", "Maybe you should just give up, loser". Muse is really worthless, and just an annoyance. I should have pushed her out the window, really.

Songwriting isn't "magical" anyway. Ideas are. Well, good ideas.

I wonder if it's only songwriters who depend upon the muse. Do other types of artists talk about her endlessly, in hushed tones, as if she gets all pissy about loud talking? "Oh, you know, I was going to write that chapter of my book today, but THE MUSE didn't visit me. I think she was down at the corner convenience store, buying lottery tickets or something. Damn! And I have a deadline!"

Which leads me back to this most recent pseudo-song. I can, without a doubt, state that the muse did not visit me on this one, and I think she's just bored by the whole thing, as am I. In fact, I don't even think she's around right now, or else she'd be sitting here, flicking her ashes at me. But I've noticed she only tends to do that on the songs that could actually turn into something. She's callous.

So, the song isn't written, and maybe won't be. But songs are like blog posts, or something. Sometimes you sit down and find that you have something to say. Sometimes you just sit down.

Since this tends to be a "video blog", I looked for some videos of songwriting advice, and found this one by Tony Arata, who wrote "The Dance" for Garth Brooks. What I like about what he says is, and this is really key: ENJOY THE PROCESS. Because really, if you don't like what you're doing, why even bother? The fact is, you'd damn well better like it, because it's probably going nowhere, but tucked away in your hard drive, and the only person who will listen to it is YOU, and you really should revel in the fact that YOU like it. Because YOU (not the muse) put a bunch of work into it, and you're the only one who knows and appreciates that.



Sorry for the poor quality of this video, but Garth, like Prince, is apparently afraid that....gasp!.....someone might actually want to WATCH his videos, and we just can't have that! So, I grabbed this one, after much searching, from some obscure site, and this was the best I could do. But I figured, after Tony Arata's advice, it might be nice to actually see the song performed.

See all music videos Garth Brooks

Music Should Be Free

Yes, and so should gasoline, in my opinion. The trouble with gasoline is, unfortunately, it's not downloadable.

Ask any music "fan", and they would agree that music should be free. And by "fan", I mean "consumer". Because no one is really a fan of music anymore. Everybody is just a consumer of music. It's like collecting baseball cards. You collect cards; I collect music. I want to see how much I can acquire.

This practice only became prevalent in the computer age. Face it, have you ever looked for software to perform a specific task? Have you searched the paid options; then surfed over to cnet to see what's available for free? I have. Who wants to shell out money for something, when you can get it free of charge?

The difference between the two is, cnet is offering free downloadable software with the permission of the developer. "Free" music is found on those nefarious file-sharing websites, the ones that will make your computer explode, and sic the FBI on you, if you visit them. But apparently, a whole lot of people are willing to take that risk.

Oh sure, some artists will dangle a free music track in front of you. It's called a loss leader in the sales biz (I guess). They're hoping you like the free one enough to dust off that credit card and buy a bunch more.

Amazon offers free music every week. I get the email, and frankly, there's rarely anything I want....yes, even for free.

Music consumers are jaded. And, yes, count me among their ranks. I can't remember the last time I heard a song that I fell in love with. I've heard a couple that I thought, "that's not too bad", and I've purchased them. I'm not about to steal from the artist, and more importantly, from the songwriter. Songwriters don't make very much money, you know. How much have I made from my music? $0.00.

The argument has been made, ad nauseum, that a songwriter or an artist works just as hard as anybody in any other line of work. But the fact is, songwriting is not valued. Nobody says, hey, I could be a brain surgeon! But a lot of people say, hey, I could write a song! How hard could it be? (I'm not equating songwriting with brain surgery, by the by).

The creative arts are strange and inexplicable. Nobody goes into a museum and steals a painting off the wall. But that's a creative work, just like a song.

I guess if the market was glutted with paintings, they'd be held in as low esteem as songs are. Maybe that's the problem ~ too much product.

But I think the problem is, too much bad product. If art houses were trying to sell a bunch of finger-painted works, nobody would want those, either.

I don't know for a fact who the most downloaded artists are on iTunes, but I can guess: Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift. That's it. Everybody else, pack up and go home. People are willing to pay for Lady and Taylor. The rest, well, if they can get them for free, okay. If not, no big deal.

Songs are like feathers in the wind. If you catch one, fine. If you don't, well, it's just a feather, after all. What the heck would you do with it, if you caught one anyway?

There is no answer to the whole dilemma of free versus non-free. All I know is, I'm not giving my songs away. Call me stubborn. A song costs as much (or less) than a cup of coffee. If one values their cup of coffee more than a song, more power to you. I love coffee, too. I'm not making a value judgment. And if you want to steal any of my songs, sorry. Nobody likes them enough to file-share them. But if you really like one of my songs, I'll give it to you. Just you.

I just don't want to be collected.

A Decent Song Is Just The Beginning

So, songwriters, let's say you finally write a decent song, after, hypothetically, nine years.

Well, that's really only the beginning, isn't it?

(By "good song", I mean "commercial").

And let's say you want to shop it around.

There's a lot of stuff to consider.

1. You need a decent demo.

There are different ways to go about achieving this. You could do your own! (That option is highly discouraged by those who own demo studios, among others). If you do do your own, you have to either be or find a decent singer. And you have to find someone to play on the demo and someone to produce it. If you're lucky and talented, you can do all those things yourself.

You can also hire a demo studio.

Just for fun, I did a Google search of Nashville demo studios. What I found was, they all basically charge the same rate (market forces at work), all their demos pretty much sound the same (the Nashville model!), all their singers are just generic enough to not interfere with the song (is that calculated?).

HINT: If the demo studio's website doesn't list its singers and samples of each, pass them by.

HINT #2: If the demo studio offers to put your lyrics to music, run, run, run! Sorry, but I stand by that. If you can't write a "whole song", give up. Seriously.

HINT #3: If none of the samples on their website will play, well, you can judge for yourself. They obviously either have more work than they can handle, or they just don't care.

I haven't done a comprehensive search for demo studios, because, (a) I can't afford it anyway; and (b) I'm not all that impressed with the ones I did find.

If I were to choose, I'd choose one outside of Nashville, but I'm just stubborn that way (and picky).

2. You need someone to listen to your demo.

By "someone", I mean, someone who can actually advance your career.

How do you find that?

Well, you could move to Nashville. That's a fun thought, if you don't actually need a job to support yourself. Then, you could pound the pavement and slip CD's to all the receptionists in town (I'd include something special, like a coupon for a free Dairy Queen Blizzard, or something. You know, just to sweeten the pot).

You could find a website that gives you direct access to someone who is a mover and shaker in the industry. Yes, there is one out there ~ I'm not going to name it. Do you own search.

If someone suddenly gifted me with $132.00, I would definitely submit my song to Paul Worley for review (enough of a hint? Try Google). This guy could actually do something for you, if you have the moolah to spend to take the chance).

You could check around and see if a local band would be willing to include your song in their set list. I'm not exactly sure what that would accomplish, but you could have bragging rights, at least. "Hey, the Jim Bob Trio did one of my songs down at the Buffalo Alice Bar & Grill last night!"

3. Songwriters say it's all about the art.

#@!%&#~|! to that. It's not. It's about the commerce.

All songwriters want to strike gold.

Sure, the "art" is all fun and frolic when you're writing the song. But once you have "that one", you want it to go somewhere. And by "somewhere", I mean, into your bank account.

Yea, they'll all tell you that it's just for fun. It isn't.

Do you do stuff for no reward? I mean, other than laundry and washing dishes, which, unfortunately, we all have to do, whether we like it or not? No.

We're looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (and how often do you actually see a rainbow, anyway?)

So, there you have it. The songwriter's dilemma.

I wish I had some answers to share, but I don't. It's a crap shoot....or really, not even that. I did buy three lottery tickets today. My odds are better with those.

Anyway, if anybody is looking for good songs, shoot me an email.

Or barring that, I think I will make it happen.

Somehow.

Songs That Just Never Go Away

I was sitting in the dentist chair yesterday afternoon, and those places are always tuned to the most innocuous radio stations, since sitting in the dentist chair is stressful enough; one does not need to be subjected to aggravating music, besides.

So, they've got the oldies station blaring away, which I like. And the hygienest's got that cavitron buzzing, and I'm just thinking, will this be over soon?

When what, pray tell, comes on the radio, but this:



Watching Van's discomfort while lip-synching this song is much like the discomfort I feel whenever I hear this song.

Granted, this was a good song at one time. But you know what they say about familiarity breeding contempt? Well, there you go.

It's funny how with some songs, one could hear them a million times and still enjoy them. Other songs just don't wear that well.

By way of contrast, I could hear this (awkwardly lip-synched) song over and over and over, and I would still get a little thrill every time:



So, what is it? The melody? I say yes. Some melodies are "decent"; some are timeless.

This proves my oft-repeated opinion that melodies are what counts.

Because, frankly, the subject manner of both "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Don't Worry, Baby" are basically the same. Just little bits of fluff.

Thus, my little songwriting lesson of the day, because there really should be a point to this post, other than just posting videos of songs that I'm really sick of (although that does make me feel better).

So, seeing as how I'm old, and I remember stuff from back in the gramophone days (seriously, I don't), these are some of the songs that, in my opinion, just got overplayed ad nauseum on the radio, back when people used to listen to the radio. And if I hear these songs today, after lo these many years, I'm still sick to death of them.



In this particular performance, the tempo is sped up from that on the record, which is a good thing, because the song gets over sooner.

Even "moderned up", while the performance is nice, the song is still sickening. Sorry, Joe South.



Remember this? 1968? Most played to death song of the year. I like Tom T. Hall; he wrote a lot of good songs, but....



Okay, yea, Johnny Cash is a legend and all that. I'll grant you that, but this song isn't even that good! And it's so repetitive. If you overlook the fact that you're viewing a performance by one of country music's icons, you will admit that this song is just tiresome:



Even as a non-songwriter in 1972, I realized how bad these lyrics were. And I was sort of offended by the inanity. But the radio station just kept playing it!



Let's see if I've got this right: "Skippity doo-dah, thank you, Lord, for makin' him for me"......"I'll fix your lunch if you fix mine".....

No offense, Donna Fargo. I understand you're a really nice person. But back then, I was cleaning motel rooms for spending money, carrying my portable radio with me, and I had to keep hearing this whole skippity doo-dah nonsense, and it made me irate. It was bad enough just cleaning those rooms. I was seventeen, it was hot, and I just wanted to be lying out by the pool, and not getting up at 7:00 a.m. every day in June to clean toilets.

Fast forward to the eighties (all decades should be well represented). I was searching for this video, and I found some comments to the effect of, "thanks so much for the memories". Well, yea, I have memories of this song, too. Memories of every freakin' time I got in the car to drive somewhere, I had to be subjected to this song. "Uh-huh":



I've mentioned this song before, but it just has to be included here. Back in the sixties (I'm told), there was a big counter-culture drug thing going on. And it makes sense when one listens to this song. I'm imagining Hoyt Axton scribbling these lines on a napkin, and somebody saying, "that's heavy, man", when in reality, it's obviously complete nonsense.

Unfortunately for us (the listeners), and fortunately for Hoyt Axton, this song achieved heavy rotation on the rock stations. But anytime I hear the words, "Jeremiah was a bullfrog", I just have to punch that button to change the channel.



So, there you have it. Some of my least favorite, albeit, overplayed songs of the millennium.

I didn't include my all-time least favorite song, because, thankfully, it hasn't really been overplayed. But readers of my blog know what that is.

I would be interested in knowing what your most overplayed song is. Feel free to leave me a comment and let me know.

My Latest Computer-Generated Song

Yes, you, too, can create your own computer-generated song!

It seems like a dream, doesn't it? But it's true! (Okay, it's really just another version of Mad Libs, but hey!)

Alas, it's not really a song, because it's just lyrics. But I'm looking for a co-writer, cuz I just know that this is going to be huge!

Apparently, this is titled, "The Ballad of My Overweight Hairdresser Acquaintance":

The Tale of My Overweight Hairdresser Acquaintance
- A Ballad

It began on a spineless Arbor Day lunchtime:
I was the most stupid philosopher around,
He was the most overweight hairdresser.

He was my acquaintance,
My overweight acquaintance,
My hairdresser.

We used to eat so well together,
Back then.
We wanted to skip together, around the world,
We wanted it all.

But one lunchtime, one spineless lunchtime,
We decided to skip too much.
Together we teased a magic leprechaun.
It was fluffy, so fluffy.

From that moment our relationship changed.
He grew so grouchy.

And then it happened:

Oh no! Oh no!

He channeled Mister Spock.
Alas, Mister Spock!
My acquaintance channeled Mister Spock.
It was annoying, so annoying.

The next day I thought my eyebrows had broken,
I thought my little toe had burst into flames,
(But I was actually overreacting a little.)

But still, he is in my thoughts.
I think about how it all changed that lunchtime,
That spineless Arbor Day lunchtime.

My little toe... ouch!
When I think of that overweight hairdresser,
That overweight hairdresser and me.

It could use some fine-tuning, admittedly.

If you would like to generate your own pre-fab song lyrics, go here.

I'm thinking of pitching this to Alanis Morissette.

FAWM Aftermath

Another year, another FAWM. I said I wasn't going to do it, and I was really teetering as the calendar slipped into February. Remembering how hard I worked last year, I didn't think I had the stamina to do it again.

On the first weekend of FAWM, I thought, well, I'll just write lyrics. Easy enough. I wrote three sets (Are they called "sets"? And if so, why?) Well, that turned out to be really boring. You see, to me, a song isn't a "song" without a melody. Call me cuckoo. As clever as they may be, nobody wants to read lyrics (and by "nobody", I mean me).

Also, part of the fun of FAWM is having other writers comment on what you write. What's somebody going to say? "Nice. I like how all the lines seem to be about the same length." ??

So, I quickly turned those three sets into songs. Luckily, they were already metered properly, and I sort of had a melody for each in my head when I was writing them. I just basically had to find the right chords.

From there, I was pretty much committed (or should have been committed). I was stuck having to finish the stupid challenge. Because once I start something, unfortunately, I AM going to finish.

The problem, as I see it now, is that last year, I was excited about writing the 14 songs. This year, well, I just had to do it. This showed in the quality of my songs, or lack thereof.

So, what did I learn?

1. It's good to force oneself to write. Good things can come of it. Unfortunately, also bad things can come of it. The proper mindset is key.

2. I need a good co-writer. My melodies suck. Part of the issue is, I am forced to use the same chords a lot, since I don't actually know that many. This results in a lot of sameness and/or deadness.

3. Without being versed in music production, all my songs had to be labeled "acoustic folk", because it was just me and my guitar. This resulted in boring songs (see "sameness/deadness").

4. I got very few song comments this year, as opposed to last. This, I'm sure, is directly the result of numbers one through three above. However, it was rather disheartening. "Gee, I guess I'm really as bad as I thought I was. I was hoping I was wrong."

5. Just a slight criticism of FAWM (although, for the record, I am a big booster of the organization): It does tend to be rather cliquish, meaning that prolific forum posters get lots of song comments; and I'm just not a forum-poster kind of gal. I guess I could have posted a lot of "I agree!", just to boost my numbers. Also, there is a bias toward fully produced demos. This sort of goes against the stated purpose of FAWM, which is to encourage songwriting. But that's just human nature, I guess.

On the plus side (and really, there is a plus side):

1. My quirky songs seemed to turn out the best. Those were the ones that I dashed off in a couple of hours; the ones that came from somewhere God only knows; the ones that had no purpose; no meaning (deep or otherwise); they just were what they were. I didn't try to analyze them. I wrote them as a lark. This sort of ticks me off, in a way, because I have slaved over songs in the past ~ in fact, the best song I thought I ever wrote, I spent weeks writing and rewriting, and it turned out only two people even liked that song. Fine. See if I ever write a song I really like ever again.

2. I had a bad day one Friday in February. I was feeling pretty down; depressed. Not so down that I went and buried my head under the covers. I still realized that I had to try to keep up the pace, if I was going to finish the FAWM challenge. So, I sat and wrote some lines, and quietly sang them into the mic. And I got this comment from one of FAWM's most highly-regarded writers:

"Oh, beautiful... the simplicity of the performance really nails these words. Great stuff."

That, in a nutshell, made FAWM for me this year.

3. I can write funny songs (but I don't respect myself for it), and those are the ones that garner comments. I'm not saying I did that a lot. I wrote one from a line I heard my husband say, and I wrote another one as a result of a FAWM challenge. (I don't consider "quirky" the same as "funny". Quirky happens without trying; that's different).

So, to sum up, FAWM was both good and bad for me this year. I may go back and listen to those songs once more; I may not (depends on whether I've had a couple of drinks first). I may even, at some point, upload them to ReverbNation, since I created my own account last year for just that express purpose. But I may not (if I do, I will post a link).

But did I write any keepers? I don't think so. Last year, I wrote two. Well, good things tend to happen to me in odd-numbered years anyway, so next year (if I do it again!) is bound to be better.

P.S. Songwriters, what do you do with all the songs you write? Just keep 'em in a file somewhere? Maybe I could burn mine to CD and bury them in a time capsule. Then, one day, my kids will dig them up and say, wow, my mom sure wasted a bunch of time!

Okay, Lyric-Only Writers, You Can Flog Me Now

I've said some harsh, I guess you could say, things about lyric-only writers in previous blogs. However, I still stand by my statement: Lyrics are not songs. I think I said, unless you can strum them on a guitar, or plink them out on a keyboard, they're not songs. True!

I will, though, say that just sitting and writing lyrics is not as easy as it seems at first glance.

Not that hard, but not necessarily easy.

What brings me to this enlightenment? Simply, it's February, and that means it's time for FAWM, or more specifically, February Album Writing Month.

If you're familiar with my blog, FAWM means, in essence, write 14 songs in 28 days.

I still shudder in horror when I think about FAWM, 2010. Okay, horror isn't quite the right word. More like shudder in "exhaustion". I pushed myself really, really hard last year, to accomplish FAWM's goal, and I did it!

This year, however, I just didn't feel that I had the stamina to do what I did in 2010; yet I couldn't bring myself to NOT participate in FAWM (Once you've done it, you're hooked; really.)

So, the compromise? Write 14 lyrics.

I'm still part of the FAWM community; still an active participant; just not with the crushing commitment of not only writing the songs, but recording stupid demos of them as well.

So, all is good, right?

Sort of.

I find that I, in essence, do write the songs, at least in my head, while I conjure up the lyrics. It's the only way I know. And yea, I've got the chord progressions rattling around up there, too.

I, frankly, don't know how someone who doesn't know music can write a coherent lyric. It's not a matter of doing syllable counts, for God's sake. I mean, when you sing it, it's going to be totally different anyway. I wonder if lyric-only writers get bogged down in the minutia of making sure each line is exactly the same length as the one before it. Nobody sings that way!

So, okay, this does sound condescending, and I don't mean it to. But, on the other hand, since I've done, let's see, six lyrics now (and it's only February 4), I'm really itching to pick up the guitar and play the damn things. Having something echoing in your head is all well and good, but it's the same as fantasizing that Johnny Depp is going to swashbuckle on your doorstep and sweep you away (is "swashbuckle" a verb?) It's not reality; it's a fantasy.

Lyrics are NOT songs. You need a MELODY. You need somebody to SING them.

But anyway, if you want to know how to write songs, I did find this:

Have you ever wanted to write a song? (YES!) And maybe have it recorded by a famous singer? (SURE!) Maybe it could even hit the "top ten" chart? (WHY NOT?)

While this actually happens to some lyricists and songwriters, the chances are slim for a person to reach that height of success. But, what the heck! If you have an idea for a song, you might as well write it down and organize it into a song. Even if it never enters the front door of a recording studio, you will still have the bragging rights to your family and friends that you are a lyricist! (WOO-HOO!)

There is no set way to write the lyrics to a song, but there are a few basics that you will need to know in order to reach your goal. In this article, you will learn about organizing your own personal thoughts and turning them into song lyrics.

The first step is to write down who your audience is (NO ONE!). You will need to keep this in mind while writing the lyrics so you can target them (THE NON-EXISTENT AUDIENCE). After all, if you were writing a song for children you would certainly avoid adult material of any kind (HMMM....DEPENDS).

Next, write down the subject of the song ("JOHN BOUGHT A TRACTOR"), the idea or the message you want to convey ("I'M WRITING A SONG!), and the story the song will tell. The subject of the song might be falling in love; the message might be that there is someone for everyone; the story might tell of a man and a woman who meet and fall madly in love with each other (OKAY!).

This is a good time to write down the words to the chorus of the song. The chorus is a bridge or connection from one verse to the next (WELL, TECHNICALLY A "BRIDGE" IS A "BRIDGE", AND A CHORUS IS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM A "BRIDGE", BUT WHY QUIBBLE, I GUESS?). It must make sense to sing the words of the chorus in between the verses. From the chorus, you will also need to make-up a catchy title for your song ("JOHN BOUGHT A TRACTOR").

The next step is to write a rough draft of the first verse of your song. This verse should draw attention to your song and make your audience want to listen. Don't worry about it being perfect at this point; you will refine all the verses and the chorus later (BELIEVE ME!).

Now, of course, you will need to write the second verse (UNLESS YOU WANT A REALLY SHORT SONG!). In this part you will need to continue to tell the story and explain what the action is. Don't be too detailed; this is a three minute song, not an opera (HOWEVER, DON'T BE TOO VAGUE, OR NO ONE WILL HAVE A CLUE WHAT IN THE HELL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT; BELIEVE ME; I KNOW).

Next comes the third verse (SERIOUSLY? I'M FINE WITH TWO, THANK YOU). Tell more about your story here, and add relevant information to your story (SORT OF A LAUNDRY LIST, IF YOU WILL). You really want to enhance the story line from verses one and two, because the next verse will close the song (NEXT VERSE?? FOUR VERSES?? WHAT IS THIS, AMERICAN PIE??).

It's time to close the song (THANK GOD!) by writing the fourth verse and bring it all together like the last chapter of a book (I, PERSONALLY, WOULD SKIP THE FOURTH VERSE; AND THE THIRD, FOR THAT MATTER).

Finally, read over your lyrics and change your sentences into lines. After you have lines, you will need to go back and change the ending words so they will rhyme (OH, COME ON). Do this with the chorus too. Every lyric should be of relatively-equal length so the song will glide along and not be choppy (AND BE ROTE; LIKE A ROBOT).

After you have completed writing your song, you may decide to write the music for it too (YOU MAY!). Or, if composing is not your thing, you could work with someone who does compose and complete your song! (GOOD LUCK THERE, PAL!)

So, there you have it. How to write a lyric; all FOUR verses of it! You can thank me later.

Meanwhile, I guess, against my wishes, I'm going to have to take the acoustic out of mothballs, and whip up a few of my 2011 lyrics, or else I'm just going to be really mad at myself. And I've probably got enough people mad at me already; I don't need to pile on.

So, You Got Songs ~ Then What?

I guess anyone can write a song, if they try. At least I sort of believe that.

Which means, there are at least 300 million songs floating around out there (and that's only figuring one per person).

I don't count lyrics. Lyrics are not songs. Lyrics are rhyming poems. Sorry, lyricists, but it's true. I could dash off as many lyrics as there are hours in the day, but what the heck would I do with them? Unless you can strum them on a guitar, or plink them out on a keyboard, they're not songs.

But I digress.

So, let's say you've got a body of work. Then what?

Well, you can plunk them on SoundClick or ReverbNation, for all the good that'll do ya.

The only people who peruse those sites are other songwriters/musicians; and they just want to get their own stuff noticed. Fat chance.

If you're not looking for a cut (which is akin to winning the Powerball), and say, you want to advance your own skinny self as an artist, where do you go?

Alas, that is the question, isn't it?

The winning answer is, there is nowhere to go.

Yes, by all means, try the music libraries. We've been signed up with music libraries for about three years, and you know what that's gotten us? About $20.00. And the sad part is, we can't even collect the twenty, because there's some arbitrary benchmark that one has to reach before the $20.00 is doled out, and we, apparently, haven't reached that yet. And probably never will. But it was a nice ego boost at the time.

As a band, I think we're stuck at the crossroads of Delusion Street and You Gotta Be Kidding Me Boulevard.

But, you know, that's okay, really.

What songwriting is, and what music production is, is a diversion; a way to fill the hours. I could sit and watch the latest episode of "Modern Family" (and don't think I don't), and reap as many rewards (if not more) than I would if I continued to shop our songs around.

I'm a realist. I don't have my head in the clouds. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'm thinking bad, because it really dashes one's hopes. But on the other hand, it's a good thing, because I'm not being taken for a sucker.

If this was 1968, I could theoretically be hailed as an up and coming songwriter. I might even get a chance to shake hands with Kris Kristofferson.

But it's 2011. Everybody's way more jaded now. What passed for talent, then, now is considered lame, or hopelessly outdated and naive.

If you want to have even a glimmer of a chance, you'd better have those beats, and you'd better have those remixes of past hit songs (all the while pretending that your stuff is original, and that you haven't ripped off the hits of the past ~ see Alan Parsons vs. Lady Antebellum):

Oh, and don't forget to record it REALLY LOUDLY.

Ahh, music. I think I'll just do some guitar/vocals of my songs, and be done with it.

Cuz after all, who do you need to please but youself? Isn't that the bottom line?

And if that twenty dollars really means that much to you, stick a twenty in an envelope and put it someplace that you won't notice for a few months. Then, one day, when you're doing some organizing, you'll find that twenty, and say, "Hey! Twenty dollars! Cool!"

Things I Learned (Or Was Told) in 2010

In keeping with my theme of reflection for the year 2010, here are some things I learned (or was told):

1. No one blogs anymore

Is that true? Or is it just true that no one reads blogs anymore? And did they ever?

I read some blogs. I read those whose authors are good writers, or those that say something I'm interested in, or those of people in whom I'm interested.

Frankly, I wish I had time to read more, but I just don't. I have to draw the line. I can't read everything that might or might not be interesting. We need a service we can subscribe to, one that emails us links to blogs that we, personally, would be interested in reading. Something that can be personalized to each individual. Business suggestion for someone out there! Free idea!

The funny thing is, I never went into this whole blogging biz with the thought that anyone would read mine. Nor was that my intention.

I've always written. Always. When I used to tear pages out of the typewriter (anyone remember those?), I certainly didn't expect anyone to read them. Why would I expect anyone to read my blog? I write this more as a diary than anything else. Even when I post the videos I've made, it's not for the purpose of marketing. It's to have a written record of things I've done. For me. I'm always shocked (shocked!) when I get comments (the ones that aren't spam, written in Chinese).


2. ReverbNation is a great way to waste a whole bunch of time.

Don't get me wrong; I like ReverbNation, for what it is. This isn't a knock on the site. We have a page there.

I don't see that it's done anything for us as a band, but then again, what has?

Awhile back, after FAWM, I set up my own page as a place to post my acoustic songs (Red River's is here). I guess I was bored one day. I started browsing for Americana artists, to hear some new unsigned music, and I became a fan of some.

Now suddenly, my whole email box is filled with "Bill Blessyourheart just became a fan of yours on ReverbNation".

Not to be cynical (ha ha), but I just don't think all those people are my fans. If you'd heard my sad, lame guitar/vocal renditions, you'd understand.

No, these people want fans of their own. That's understandable. It looks better on your page to have a lot of "fans". But I'm one who always not only "fans back", but I try to listen to at least one song from every artist and post a comment. It's getting too burdensome! I can't possibly keep up!

It's a game, and I'm thinking I might not want to play anymore. But thank you to the two people who posted really thought-provoking comments on one of my songs. I really do appreciate it.

3. I'm not a social networking kind of gal.

Facebook is fine. I usually check it out once a day, to see if anyone has posted anything interesting. But I just looked, and the last time I updated my status was on October 9! What am I supposed to say? "It's chilly today"?

Twitter is even worse. I feel like I should say "something", but I don't know what. So, I just gave up on it entirely.

I tried to join a songwriting site, but they don't like new people butting in. Those sites are like small dysfunctional families; they're close-knit, even in their sometimes hatred and disdain of one another. I posted a couple of times, but was either ignored or condescended to, so I just moved on.

Social networking is not for me.

4. I hate TV.

Here is what I watch on TV: one national news channel, two sitcoms that I really like, and American Masters and American Experience on PBS. That's it.

I watch the local weather. I can't abide by the rest of the local happy "news", which isn't news at all, but a coffee klache we're all invited to.

The other thing about TV that makes me hate it is the commercials. First of all, they're too damn loud (however, a bill was recently passed that will ban this! Best thing Congress did all year!)

Secondly, they make men look like morons. It's embarrassing. I like my husband; I think he's a good guy. I don't think he's a hapless loser. But apparently, all national advertisers think differently.

There was one commercial this year that I liked, and I would even replay it if it showed up on my DVR:



That's cute! Sorry, but it is.

5. I'm basically done buying CD's.

Unless the Eagles put out a new CD, or Mark Chesnutt, or Dwight Yoakam, I'm done.

I believe I bought two CD's in all of 2010. One was by George Strait, but that's really for collection purposes. I have all of George's CD's, and I'm not breaking the chain. This, even though George's song quality has diminished, as he's tried to stay "relevant", sadly.

The other was Marty Stuart's "Ghost Train". Good! Just GOOD. I don't need to say more. Buy it and find out.

I'll buy a single download here and there from Amazon, but I'm done. I've got enough music (good music) to last me the rest of my life. Until Nashville swings the pendulum back, they've lost me. Sorry to be blunt.

6. Words can hurt and they can soar.

There's a very, very nice man on NoDepression.com, who comments positively on all of Red River's videos. He's just a nice man. I don't deceive myself that our songs and our videos are anything even remotely outstanding, but John Apice posts a nice, uplifting comment on every video I upload there. He knows how to lift the spirit, and I truly, truly appreciate it.

By the same token, one of Red River's videos on YouTube got a thumbs-down. Why would anyone take the time to do that? If you don't like it, click "stop" and move on. It seems mean. And that was one of the songs I thought was one of our best (well, there you go, thinking again).

It seems silly to even remember that tiny slight, but I do. Words (or little negative icons, in this case) can hurt.

7. Give me some new gadget, and I'll be your friend forever.

There were two things I wanted for Christmas: a Kindle and a USB turntable.

I wasn't real sure about the Kindle, because I love, love books. I like the feel of a book; I like going back to certain passages and re-reading them. I like the heft of a book. I like putting my bookmark in the crease at bedtime and reopening it to that spot the next day. I'm a book geek.

But everyone raved about the Kindle, and on the practical side, I don't have room for all my books anymore. I donated a bunch this fall, and only kept the ones I really can't bear to part with. So, a Kindle seemed like a good idea.

I think I like it. The jury is still out, but so far, so good. It does help that Keith Richards is a really good writer. Who knew? My first e-book, and I'm enjoying it.

The USB turntable is just another world all together. I, yes, posted about it a week ago, because I'm in love with it. I am replaying and converting all my old albums and singles - and I haven't heard some of them in more than 20 years. I even like just looking at it. I forgot what it was like to play records.

An added bonus to the whole turntable thing is, I now remember what really good music is like. Say what you will; if you hated country music in the 60's and early 70's, because it was too "corny", rock on. I like it. I like it a lot. And did you know, most of those songs didn't even have bridges? And most are under three minutes? Just like the Beatles songs. I think songwriters today are really over-thinking things.

So, it's not only a new cool gadget, but it's a (re)learning tool.

8. Anything I create is for me.

Songs, videos, what-have-you. I'm 55 years old. Even if the brass ring was dangling out there, I wouldn't have the dexterity to catch it.

I've got things to say musically, I've got some pretty pictures to put to music, I've got words. Lots of words. I like words. Always have. Words are magic to me.

Nobody has to like my music or my words or my pictures. I like 'em. That's enough.


So, eight things I learned (or was told) in 2010. Some of them were probably obvious, but I just didn't realize it before. Now I know.

Happy 2011. Great; now I have to get used to writing 2011.

But on we go! Maybe I'll learn nine or ten things in the coming year.

2010 - A Year of Trying

The end of the year lends itself to reflection. I'm a big "reflector". I like it, when I can clear my mind enough of the mundane junk that I deal with every day, and actually take the time to do it.

Since this is, in essence, a music blog, I started to think today about what I have done in 2010, music-wise, and what I would write about that.

I kept coming back to the word, "tried". I tried to do a lot of stuff. Well, not a lot, but a few things that were important to me.

And I learned. Learning is good. It keeps one from becoming befuddled and crotchety. Or at least from becoming befuddled.

I learned that, if one keeps trying long enough, eventually she will become better at something, inevitably, except for math (on a personal note).

I've been writing songs for eight years now (yes, that's all), and I keep trying, and I think I'm getting better. Baby steps. Big long baby steps. I mean, c'mon, eight years, and I'm just now getting better? But still.

I tried FAWM seriously in 2010. I'd done it before, but I never really committed. I wasn't fooling anybody, least of all, me.

In 2010, I became disgusted enough with my lack of follow-through, to force myself to, just once, do it and complete it. And I did. The FAWM challenge is to write 14 songs in 28 days (in February), and I wrote 16, dang it!

I was reading some prior blog posts I'd made about my FAWM success, and boy, I was really full of it. I said something about most of the songs being keepers. Well, that's not true!

I'd say two of them are keepers. The rest are exercises in mawkishness. Yet, not futile mawkish exercises. Because I learned. Yes, I learned how to be a better songwriter, by doing. They're not all going to be winners; rather, I'm lucky if 2 out of 16 are ~ really lucky, in fact. But the work helped me. And the "trying" made me feel good about myself.

I also tried to write songs after February. I tried, in fact, working and reworking, and re-reworking a great song idea that I've had in my pocket for about a year. I learned that some things are better left to die. So, I scavenged the best lines out of it for a different song. I can be mercenary when pushed too far.

Most fun for me, music-wise this year, was that I tried making music videos (okay, "slideshows", if we're being technical). Even if they are slideshows, they still require a lot of effort and a degree of imagination, if one is to do them creatively.

I used to do an updated video each December for one of our songs, called "Ring In The Old". That was the only video I would do each year. I recently looked back at some of these prior "efforts", and they were appalling. I've gotten better. WAY better.

This year I created nine music videos, and I like most of them (I would, however, like to know why YouTube keeps suggesting that I tag every one of my videos with the word "kayak". None of these songs say one word about kayaks, and why in the world would they? I think YouTube has some kind of "bug" or has been hacked by a loose organization of kayak-lovers).

All kayaks aside, I really, really like doing this! I find that I'm a visual person, apparently, and sadly, for a so-called songwriter. Or else, it's just more making up of stories, which is sort of what songwriting is anyway. I think I'll keep doing it until I run out of songs.

I wrote two songs that I really like (see FAWM). One of them is in the process of being recorded, but it won't be done in 2010. It still counts, though. I consider it a bit of weather-related inspiration, mixed with a healthy dose of imagination. Even my husband, the producer, likes the song.

I'm going to spring the other song on him the next time it's my turn to have a song recorded (there are three of us in the band, each with his or her own songs).

So, as lazy as I know I can be, I think I did a pretty good job of "trying" in 2010.

And I'm good with that.

I Got This Songwriting Thing All Wrong

Allow me to paraphrase from a post on a songwriter's board:

"I've been studying how to write a hit song for a couple of years now, and I think I'm finally getting the formula down. Just moved to Nashville! I'm on my way! Just a matter of time!"

Hit Song Recipe

1/2 cup of attitude
1 heaping tablespoon of pickup truck
2 cups of female empowerment, stirred briskly into mix
a generous dash of rock guitar riffs
1 foot-long list, divided into four portions
1/4 cup of "my daddy" (found in the canned foods aisle)
1 can of cold beer

NOTE:

This recipe makes a great last-minute supper, because the ingredients are ones that all hit songwriters should already have on hand.

It doesn't require any hard-to-find items, such as heart, love, or feelings.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Grab a co-writer; two, if available, to help with preparation. Preheat oven to 500 degrees.

Pour all ingredients into a large bowl, and, using an electric mixer (set on high), beat briskly until mixture forms a pale yellow mush. Quickly pour into a greased 9 x 13 inch baking pan, and bake for five minutes at 500 degrees.**

**Or 2 1/2 minutes if you prefer your song to be half-baked. Most hit songwriters choose to use this method.

It is not necessary to allow hit song to cool after removing from oven. It can be served immediately to program directors. They will be so delighted with this dish that they will want to share it with their listeners as often as possible.

Voila!

You're welcome! Bon appetit!

The Songwriter

My boss once asked me (feigning interest), "How do you write a song?"

This happened in the midst of an actual work-related conversation, so needless to say, I was taken by surprise.

So, there was a lot of stuttering and stammering, and I believe I said "you know" approximately 38 times. Meanwhile my boss was thinking, "I was just being polite".

I never did answer the question satisfactorily. And mercifully, we went back to discussing weekly production goals and overtime.

The problem, as I see it, is that songwriting is such a technically challenging vocation that it defies description.

Alas, if I'd only had this video to show her. It truly explains my songwriting process.

Songwriting is like.......

......a job that you actually like going to.

It's been two months since FAWM ended, and I've had time to ponder the experience.

FAWM was a success for me this year, because I completed the challenge and then some.

It was a success in more ways, of course. It taught me that if I used some discipline, I could be a prolific songwriter.

I spent every weekend in February (albeit, some were three-day weekends) picking up the guitar and forcing myself to write. While it felt like a burden at times, and while sometimes I cursed myself for getting into this mess, I often found myself actually looking forward to it. Mostly, I guess, because I was eager for the surprise of something being born that had never existed in the world before.

I'm certainly not saying that all sixteen of the songs I wrote were world-shattering. Okay, none of them were. However, in hindsight, I think 10 of the 16 are dang good!

Okay, enough of patting myself on the back.

I also learned that, unless you're some kind of idiot savant, songwriting is WORK. I guess I kinda knew that already, but the FAWM experience really drove it home.

The deal was, with time at a premium, I needed to write a complete song in one day. But yet, it had to be something that I wasn't embarrassed to share with my fellow FAWMers.

My friend, and my new most cherished possession, became a Mead 70-page wide-ruled notebook.

I usually use Microsoft Word to transcribe my lyrics, but let me tell you, there is something about writing stuff out in longhand, with all the scribbles and strike-throughs, that sort of captures one's soul.

I wrote my chord notations next to each line, and played and scribbled and scratched. And I'm never parting with that notebook. A computer program saves things in a nice, sterile, clean, tidy little package. It makes it look as though I just dashed off some dictation, and voila! A song was born!

Ha! Sorry, but no. It was work!

And, you know, that's sorta what I love about songwriting. It's like a puzzle that I know if I work at long enough and smartly enough, I'm going to solve. And nobody is ever going to be able to solve it in the exact same way that I did.

And, silly me, I didn't realize it at the time, but in listening to those 16 songs, there's a bit of me in each one of them. Some of them may be fanciful, but there's at least a tiny bit of "my" truth in every one. I could listen to any one of those songs, had they been written by someone else, and say, I know that life! I lived it! I felt those feelings!

I love songwriting.