Tumbling through Theories of Musical Inspiration
Few things can hold my attention for long. Except for maybe songwriting. It’s an obsession. I love it and hate it. It builds me up and lets me down. Sometimes it happens in an instant, and it speaks for the moment. All is well in the world. Righteousness. Contentment. Come tomorrow the chords and the words fall flat--what happened? Sometimes I write a song for the wrong reasons, except it isn’t so apparent in the moment. I suppose music does something different for everyone, be it the listener or the writer. In my case, flashiness and the overuse of wit can kill it for me. It sneaks in at times, and then I try to figure out what’s wrong--what feels unsettling when I sing this? What change is needed? My theory--these things are to captivate everyone else--methods to pull them in--to dazzle. It’s gimmick. And at times condecending. Used too much and that’s all it is. A song made just for show.
And everyone gets the question: “what kind of music do you listen to?” I usually ramble about the first few artists that come to mind, or talk about how it’s a little of everything. Which it is. But that’s not quite the mark. It’s anything with soul--anything that rings from a genuinely human, vulnerable place. And this can happen in any music. And to me it’d be a shame to cling to this genre, while missing the soul of that genre. And herein lies the true ability of the songwriter. Yes, matters of technique and time and rhythm and dynamic and meter are all vital. But these are tools and the method by which you paint that certain something that’s in you. When there’s a disconnect between the tools and that soul, little music really happens. That said, the tools have to be sharpened and kept awake and ready for when the soul calls.
So a quick couple lessons that have been invaluable to me as a student of song. Because these tools have to be kept sharp, the songs where ‘little music really happens’ are important in that they exercise a muscle. The more you write, be it soulfully or without backbone, the better you become at ruthless editing. Play with structure. Shuffle. Cut the fat! Do away with the parts that don’t do anything. Simplify! And most important! Kill off the songs that don’t punch you in the gut. If they don’t hit you in that special kind of way -- if they don’t connect with that human nerve -- than what’s the point? Crumple em up and through em in the trash. Love them for what they were--a moment in time dedicated to the craft. And after a few weeks of crumpling and tossing, you may hit a special moment. Maybe in the shower. Or in the car. Or at the witching hour. And something is undeniably different about this urge to write. Something about the initial melody or phrase or single lyric sings. Stop what you’re doing and calmly approach it. And trust in the muscles you’ve been building through crumpled ideas--their purpose now is to accommodate this moment and help you capture it--the heart of it--don’t dress it up yet--save the complimentary bits for later--just capture that certain something (and don’t forget your tape recorder).......And that brings me to the second lesson, which was first brought to my attention by a mysterious figure in my memory outside a coffeehouse open mic in the college days. The best music, you’ll hear within yourself. She said, hold it in until it’s ready to come out. Once again--instruments are simply tools and colors and shades. Choose wisely. But don’t touch them at all while this music happens in you--let them wait a second. When this happens to me, I try to stay calm so as to not blow it away. Hear it! Eventually, before an instrument, I may hum it into my tape recorder (my sketchpad)--so that I have it in raw form. Once it’s safely bottled up, only then can instruments can find their place.
So where does this whole tangent go? Well some weeks ago I told myself I’d commit to this Tumblr stuff. I wanted to chronicle my thoughts as an artist navigating the creative process. Share the experience. I haven’t stuck to it well--it’s splotchy. I’m an old timer in this way--I’m hesitant about allowing technology to fill every moment of my day. That said -- I do see the value in sharing. So what’s the point?? Well in talking about what I feel is the essence of good song and music, that is, the soul, that certain voice from within, I must speak against over-attachment to these devices. I can forever type dryly about the act of doing these things but I find the computer to be an organizational and finalizing element of the creative process. The best ideas never hit while I’m typing away or surfing the net. They happen in day to day trials removed from the phone and the computer (save maybe a certain phone call). Getting outside. Watching people. Walking. Talking. Listening to people talk. Eavesdropping. Allowing yourself to feel the weight of that shitty day, or the weightlessness of the better ones. Ride the bike. Cup of coffee. Park bench. Kill the TV and lie in quiet before sleep--let your thoughts wander. And maybe this is preachy. Oh well. I suppose it isn’t as much a puff of advice as to “How to capture beautiful ideas for the purpose of writing songs,” but rather, how to more fully experience the weight and glory and torture of being human. Music just mirrors this experience, and helps to give it some clarity. The music will write itself.
