The Songwriter's Apprentice

Since I started singing on the subway, I've written more songs than ever before. This is a good thing in many ways, but it also presents some challenges.

First, I was prolific enough already, and I don't have the time or money to record everything I've written. My third CD still isn't finished, despite my intention to spend less time on it than I did on the two before, and now some of the songs on it are a couple of years old. Inevitably, by the time I get a recording finished, I've moved on to the next batch of songs and am performing them in concerts. Meanwhile, many people coming to the shows are primarily connected to the material from two CDs ago...and there isn't even enough time in a regular performance to keep everybody happy.

Maybe this is why prolific songwriters end up playing 250 dates a year, just to keep up with all their material. That's certainly one reason why I wanted to play on the subway. For once, I'd actually have enough time to play everything.

When it comes to songwriting, I find that the more I write, the more I want to write...and my output increases exponentially. The time available to complete songs, however, does not increase, so choices have to be made. And no matter how artistically valid I feel my songs may be, they're not paying the bills. (In fact, it could be argued that the more songs I write, the more bills I'll eventually have to pay: to the producer who is currently recording them.)

I'm suddenly reminded of the scene from Walt Disney's "Fantasia", called "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". In it, Mickey Mouse (playing out a fairy tale inspired by a poem by Goethe) tries unsuccessfully to use his teacher's spells to avoid work that has been assigned to him. His broomsticks divide and multiply, out of control, as he attempts to control the flood that he's unleashed with his unpractised spell. The story was set to music by French composer Paul Dukas (1865 - 1935) who was a friend of Debussy. According to a brief bio I just discovered about Dukas, "his self criticism led him to destroy many of his compositions and only allow a small number of works to be published".

What's the meaning in that story for me right now? Is it to do one's assigned task (mopping the floor) before working the magic (writing the song)? Is it to learn from the wise and experienced "sorcerers" who have been working in and with the torrent of songs all their lives? (This seems to fit in with my ongoing conversations with a particular songwriter who has twenty years' more experience than I do, and with my reading of Paul Zollo's book "Songwriters on Songwriting".)

Maybe it's just a reminder to rent "Fantasia"?

I loved it when I was little (and my mother played the soundtrack a lot at home).

And I remember being a little frightened by "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" story.

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I know you're thinking "yeah, yeah, but when is she getting back to the subway?"

Well, I'm pleased to report that this weekend the temperature is supposed to soar to 7 degrees Celsius.

However, starting tonight, I'll be singing indoors at the Winterfolk music festival. I'll write about that of course.

Then next week, it's back to the tunnels.