On Sunday at our songwriting class, we talked about calling upon spiritual sources of support as we are writing. We mentioned prayer, meditation, connecting with nature, invoking the spirits of ancestors, seeing the work as already existing (much like the sculptor uncovering the figure inside the stone).
It was suggested that when we hit an impasse, the uncomfortable feeling of confusion or perplexedness might be reframed as Mystery (something we can curiously explore rather than be anxious about) and that by collaborating with a Higher Power we might take some of the pressure off ourselves.
Earlier in the class, I shared a song-beginning that had started out well but hit a snag. The song was based on last week's lesson, having to do with patterns in life and in music. It was called "What Goes Around Comes Around"...but it hadn't come around to being finished.
Yesterday, a day later, a strange and wonderful thing happened. As planned, a beautiful upright piano arrived at our home, a gift to our keyboard-playing children from a generous friend who is downsizing. It had been her childhood piano. She simply gave it away.
I was away at an appointment when the piano arrived. When I got back, Dave told me about the amazing thing that happened next. "Hank" arrived at the door. We hadn't seen him for years; he used to live in the basement apartment of the falling-down house across the street, which was subsequently bought, renovated and sold. A long time ago, Hank told me he had once played guitar...so I gave him an old 12-string I used to play that had been in storage for awhile. (I told him he could keep it, and it was free.)
Last night, he came to the door to thank me again. He said he'd become very attached to it, and wondered if he could pay something for it. (No.)
That all would have been miracle enough, but then as I was falling asleep last night, I remembered my unfinished song--the one I'd "asked" for spiritual assistance to complete, in the class.
"What goes around comes around".
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Applause
In a songwriting class I'm teaching, we're experimenting with applause.
Every other week, we refrain from clapping after people play their songs around the circle. On the weeks in between, we applaud as usual.
I am curious to see how this changes both our playing and our listening.
So far, one student has told me that, when she knows there won't be an opportunity to politely show appreciation after a song (whether she likes it or not) she listens better and is more present.
Other songwriter/performers seem uncomfortable with the idea (as I myself have been at times) thinking that applause is a necessary expression of respect and appreciation. Without it, what's an audience to do? Why would a performer perform?
Our next class is an "applause" week.
Knowing that we can't always take applause for granted, I wonder whether we'll enjoy giving and receiving it more.
Every other week, we refrain from clapping after people play their songs around the circle. On the weeks in between, we applaud as usual.
I am curious to see how this changes both our playing and our listening.
So far, one student has told me that, when she knows there won't be an opportunity to politely show appreciation after a song (whether she likes it or not) she listens better and is more present.
Other songwriter/performers seem uncomfortable with the idea (as I myself have been at times) thinking that applause is a necessary expression of respect and appreciation. Without it, what's an audience to do? Why would a performer perform?
Our next class is an "applause" week.
Knowing that we can't always take applause for granted, I wonder whether we'll enjoy giving and receiving it more.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
An opening act stays open
This Saturday night, I will be opening for James Keelaghan in a concert for the Greenbank Folk Music Society in the small town of Greenbank, Ontario. (Avid readers will notice that, by coincidence, I recently mentioned James Keelaghan in this blog. Funny how the universe works!)
In their bios, many singer-songwriters include impressive lists of artists they've opened for. My list is pretty short: not because I've moved rapidly into headliner status, but because my artistic life hasn't been a straight line up any kind of ladder. So...let's see...I opened for Jesse Winchester at Hugh's Room once. I opened for Cheryl Wheeler once (but with a few other artists, and as the result of a songwriting workshop the same day). Once, thanks to a supportive sound man at a huge county fair, I played a solo set on a stage made out of a flatbed truck before Prairie Oyster came on...but I don't think that counts as "opening".
And this Saturday I'm opening for James Keelaghan! Yay!
Truly, I am very excited about this. I've always admired his songwriting and singing. He covers a song I love (that I sometimes sing too) called Mirabeau Bridge by Sam Larkin. When I say "it's an honour" to open for Keelaghan, I mean it. And in order to truly honour myself, the headliner and the audience, it helps to keep a few things in mind.
For me, the key to making the most of an opening spot is, first, to NOT see it as a stepping-stone to anywhere else. (Stay with me now...) I think this is easier if you notice that instead of "getting somewhere" more prestigious or special through music, you've gotten to exactly where you are now, and you're okay with that. In other words, this is not a stepping-stone...it's the whole stone! It's solid and perfect just as it is.
Another essential awareness is that, as the opener, you're not "lesser than" the more-famous headliner. You're you. He's him. That's it.
The "opener/headliner" story is an example of the kind of dualistic thinking that can really trip us up. Similar dichotomies are "on the way up/on the way down", "famous/obscure", "professional/amateur" and of course "success/failure".
We're so busy labelling ourselves and each other, we miss the realness of the situation and the fact that we're on common ground. On Saturday night James Keelaghan will be singing some beautiful songs he wrote, for an audience of 70 or so people in a church, as will I. For that matter, so will thousands of other musicians around the world. When you look at it, even the dividing line between performer and audience is a false one. We're all breathing the same air and hearing the same melodies...it's just that one of us happens to be playing them at this moment.
As the opening act, it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking "I'm not quite there yet" or I'm not as valuable as the headliner. Certainly, the entertainment industry itself (and the difference in our fees) seems to support that illusion. But if we're really tuned in to the moment, those judgments fall away, allowing us to remain truly open: responding in the moment to the music and the audience, offering our gifts in a spirit of enthusiasm and kindness, and supporting the headliner without feelings of jealousy or inferiority.
As the opening act, we have a wonderful opportunity to remain truly open...to the beauty of our creative lives, wherever they have led us.
In their bios, many singer-songwriters include impressive lists of artists they've opened for. My list is pretty short: not because I've moved rapidly into headliner status, but because my artistic life hasn't been a straight line up any kind of ladder. So...let's see...I opened for Jesse Winchester at Hugh's Room once. I opened for Cheryl Wheeler once (but with a few other artists, and as the result of a songwriting workshop the same day). Once, thanks to a supportive sound man at a huge county fair, I played a solo set on a stage made out of a flatbed truck before Prairie Oyster came on...but I don't think that counts as "opening".
And this Saturday I'm opening for James Keelaghan! Yay!
Truly, I am very excited about this. I've always admired his songwriting and singing. He covers a song I love (that I sometimes sing too) called Mirabeau Bridge by Sam Larkin. When I say "it's an honour" to open for Keelaghan, I mean it. And in order to truly honour myself, the headliner and the audience, it helps to keep a few things in mind.
For me, the key to making the most of an opening spot is, first, to NOT see it as a stepping-stone to anywhere else. (Stay with me now...) I think this is easier if you notice that instead of "getting somewhere" more prestigious or special through music, you've gotten to exactly where you are now, and you're okay with that. In other words, this is not a stepping-stone...it's the whole stone! It's solid and perfect just as it is.
Another essential awareness is that, as the opener, you're not "lesser than" the more-famous headliner. You're you. He's him. That's it.
The "opener/headliner" story is an example of the kind of dualistic thinking that can really trip us up. Similar dichotomies are "on the way up/on the way down", "famous/obscure", "professional/amateur" and of course "success/failure".
We're so busy labelling ourselves and each other, we miss the realness of the situation and the fact that we're on common ground. On Saturday night James Keelaghan will be singing some beautiful songs he wrote, for an audience of 70 or so people in a church, as will I. For that matter, so will thousands of other musicians around the world. When you look at it, even the dividing line between performer and audience is a false one. We're all breathing the same air and hearing the same melodies...it's just that one of us happens to be playing them at this moment.
As the opening act, it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking "I'm not quite there yet" or I'm not as valuable as the headliner. Certainly, the entertainment industry itself (and the difference in our fees) seems to support that illusion. But if we're really tuned in to the moment, those judgments fall away, allowing us to remain truly open: responding in the moment to the music and the audience, offering our gifts in a spirit of enthusiasm and kindness, and supporting the headliner without feelings of jealousy or inferiority.
As the opening act, we have a wonderful opportunity to remain truly open...to the beauty of our creative lives, wherever they have led us.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
For a Singer-Songwriter on the Verge of Quitting
Recently I was asked to tell a fellow singer-songwriter not to quit. This request came from one of the artist's fans...someone who was quite mystified as to why this musician would consider taking his music out of the public eye. Although the artist and I have never met, I understood why he might feel discouraged. Even though I'm not as passionate a fan as the man who asked for my help, I recognize the value of this artist's work and hope he will continue. Here's the advice I gave him, which is pretty much the same advice I give myself.
• Perform locally as much as possible. Create gigs if you have to, even in unusual venues such as community centres, bookstores, friend's homes, wherever. Publicize these gigs through local media (community papers, community radio etc.) and inexpensive mailing lists, blogging etc. Connect your songs to a real-life community.
• Travel to play outside your local market as your schedule, inclination and budget allows.
• Become the best songwriter you can. (Which is to say, write a LOT of songs, over a LONG time.) But do so because you love to write songs and because it helps you make sense of your life and become a better person--not because you want to become better-known.
• Serve, serve, serve, serve, serve. Sing at church...community soup kitchens...schools. Become known as the songwriter who sings about... [whatever you know about and love].
• Record affordably, while showcasing your work appropriately. Develop an ability to see the work itself (the songs) outside the expensive frame.
• Listen to your own recordings and play your songs for your own enrichment and enjoyment.
• Keep your day job. It can provide a reliable source of income and validation.
• Keep your website...and any other online presence that is easy and cheap to maintain (ie MySpace, Facebook). Maintain a balance between online and offline life.
• If you want to, do one big concert once a year or so, by renting a venue, setting a ticket price and inviting people. Have somebody take great pictures. Write it up online and/or have someone interview you for the local paper etc. & spread the word about that.
• Connect your music to your spiritual life. Develop a spiritual practice, ie. meditation, yoga, prayer. See your personal musical expression as part of something much larger than yourself.
• Work out of a sense of love, joy, gratitude and generosity. But when you're angry and afraid, explore that too. Do your best to reflect what it is to be human (which is, all too often, to experience failure).
• Never compare yourself to others and resist the temptation to feel as if you’re in competition with other artists.
• Recognize that there are more artists creating today than there are money-making opportunities to support all of them (…a result of the “perfect storm” of inexpensive recording technology, the Internet, and popular movements toward creativity and purposeful living a la The Artist’s Way).
• Recognize that there is no system for success in the arts (particularly music) and that the ladders we sometimes seem to climb are largely illusory (ie. you may win a song contest, but find that your life and career stay virtually the same).
• Appreciate your fans, wherever you find them. Hear them when they tell you that you have changed their life. Do not measure the worth of your art by the size of your audience, but rather by the quality of connection you create with the people you serve.
• Perform locally as much as possible. Create gigs if you have to, even in unusual venues such as community centres, bookstores, friend's homes, wherever. Publicize these gigs through local media (community papers, community radio etc.) and inexpensive mailing lists, blogging etc. Connect your songs to a real-life community.
• Travel to play outside your local market as your schedule, inclination and budget allows.
• Become the best songwriter you can. (Which is to say, write a LOT of songs, over a LONG time.) But do so because you love to write songs and because it helps you make sense of your life and become a better person--not because you want to become better-known.
• Serve, serve, serve, serve, serve. Sing at church...community soup kitchens...schools. Become known as the songwriter who sings about... [whatever you know about and love].
• Record affordably, while showcasing your work appropriately. Develop an ability to see the work itself (the songs) outside the expensive frame.
• Listen to your own recordings and play your songs for your own enrichment and enjoyment.
• Keep your day job. It can provide a reliable source of income and validation.
• Keep your website...and any other online presence that is easy and cheap to maintain (ie MySpace, Facebook). Maintain a balance between online and offline life.
• If you want to, do one big concert once a year or so, by renting a venue, setting a ticket price and inviting people. Have somebody take great pictures. Write it up online and/or have someone interview you for the local paper etc. & spread the word about that.
• Connect your music to your spiritual life. Develop a spiritual practice, ie. meditation, yoga, prayer. See your personal musical expression as part of something much larger than yourself.
• Work out of a sense of love, joy, gratitude and generosity. But when you're angry and afraid, explore that too. Do your best to reflect what it is to be human (which is, all too often, to experience failure).
• Never compare yourself to others and resist the temptation to feel as if you’re in competition with other artists.
• Recognize that there are more artists creating today than there are money-making opportunities to support all of them (…a result of the “perfect storm” of inexpensive recording technology, the Internet, and popular movements toward creativity and purposeful living a la The Artist’s Way).
• Recognize that there is no system for success in the arts (particularly music) and that the ladders we sometimes seem to climb are largely illusory (ie. you may win a song contest, but find that your life and career stay virtually the same).
• Appreciate your fans, wherever you find them. Hear them when they tell you that you have changed their life. Do not measure the worth of your art by the size of your audience, but rather by the quality of connection you create with the people you serve.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Casualties: A Reflection on "Crazy Heart"
Last night I went to see "Crazy Heart", the new movie in which Jeff Bridges plays a 57-year old formerly successful country singer, whose alcoholism is progressing while he's falling in love and watching his younger protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell) achieve stardom.
A charismatic performer with a handful of hit songs, Bad Blake manages to pull himself together (more or less) onstage, backed by pick-up bands in bowling alleys and tiny clubs. But between gigs he's bored, drunk and bitter, enlivened by his new love (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and her little boy, but not much else.
Disillusioned by the fact that he's not headlining for big crowds in huge stadiums, he's oblivious to the enduring admiration of the fans who gather in the rooms he's actually playing...and blind as well to the awe-inspiring beauty of the American Southwest that accompanies him on his solo drives from town to town.
While most of the singer-songwriters I know never have played huge stadiums, many of us share some of Bad's self-defeating characteristics. Whether or not we abuse alcohol or drugs, we're prone to self-pity and apt to wish we were somewhere else. We often compare ourselves to others, even if the other singers we're comparing ourselves to are only marginally more successful than we are. Many wind up in financial trouble, relationship trouble, or both.
In Bad's case, his early career success is enough to provide him with at least some financial options (opening for Tommy Sweet at the stadium, writing songs for him to record). But artists who have never achieved any level of commercial success--and there are many more of them these days--are at risk of the same kind of depression and addiction problems as Bad Blake, but with less likelihood of a happy ending. Reflecting on that, I wrote this lyric last year:
There I go, corkscrew down
Another go-round in a same-song town
There I go, whining again
Stuck in the mud of the might-have-beens
I’m making a mess of my melodies
Investing in my insecurities
Like all of the wasted and wannabes
Don’t count me among those casualties
Bad Blake I am not: no hits, no stadiums in my past or future, and no alcohol or drug problem...and yet I know how he feels. So, what do I do about that? Here are a few things that help:
- Practicing gratitude: for life, for love, for my existing audience, for music, for the beauty of each day
- Caring for the people I love, including myself
- Eating well, exercising
- Meditating and deepening my spirituality
- Living by the Serenity Prayer: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
These mental and spiritual health habits (which Bad Blake starts to use at the end of the film) also help me see that I'm not "bad" at all (as neither is he) if I do not achieve whatever success I had hoped for in music.
To quote one of the fine songs written by the late Stephen Bruton for the film: "I used to be somebody, now I'm somebody else". The challenge facing many of us is not figuring out how to achieve fame and fortune--but how to live well, even if we don't. To simply live well as a loving, responsible human being--neither larger-than-life nor smaller.
A charismatic performer with a handful of hit songs, Bad Blake manages to pull himself together (more or less) onstage, backed by pick-up bands in bowling alleys and tiny clubs. But between gigs he's bored, drunk and bitter, enlivened by his new love (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and her little boy, but not much else.
Disillusioned by the fact that he's not headlining for big crowds in huge stadiums, he's oblivious to the enduring admiration of the fans who gather in the rooms he's actually playing...and blind as well to the awe-inspiring beauty of the American Southwest that accompanies him on his solo drives from town to town.
While most of the singer-songwriters I know never have played huge stadiums, many of us share some of Bad's self-defeating characteristics. Whether or not we abuse alcohol or drugs, we're prone to self-pity and apt to wish we were somewhere else. We often compare ourselves to others, even if the other singers we're comparing ourselves to are only marginally more successful than we are. Many wind up in financial trouble, relationship trouble, or both.
In Bad's case, his early career success is enough to provide him with at least some financial options (opening for Tommy Sweet at the stadium, writing songs for him to record). But artists who have never achieved any level of commercial success--and there are many more of them these days--are at risk of the same kind of depression and addiction problems as Bad Blake, but with less likelihood of a happy ending. Reflecting on that, I wrote this lyric last year:
There I go, corkscrew down
Another go-round in a same-song town
There I go, whining again
Stuck in the mud of the might-have-beens
I’m making a mess of my melodies
Investing in my insecurities
Like all of the wasted and wannabes
Don’t count me among those casualties
Bad Blake I am not: no hits, no stadiums in my past or future, and no alcohol or drug problem...and yet I know how he feels. So, what do I do about that? Here are a few things that help:
- Practicing gratitude: for life, for love, for my existing audience, for music, for the beauty of each day
- Caring for the people I love, including myself
- Eating well, exercising
- Meditating and deepening my spirituality
- Living by the Serenity Prayer: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
These mental and spiritual health habits (which Bad Blake starts to use at the end of the film) also help me see that I'm not "bad" at all (as neither is he) if I do not achieve whatever success I had hoped for in music.
To quote one of the fine songs written by the late Stephen Bruton for the film: "I used to be somebody, now I'm somebody else". The challenge facing many of us is not figuring out how to achieve fame and fortune--but how to live well, even if we don't. To simply live well as a loving, responsible human being--neither larger-than-life nor smaller.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
T.H.I.N.K.
I heard a helpful bit of wisdom today that's been around awhile but was new to me. "THINK before you speak" is attributed to the English clergyman Alan Redpath (1907 - 1989).
His idea was simple. Before you speak, ask yourself if what you're about to say is:
T = True
H = Helpful
I = Inspiring
N = Necessary, and
K = Kind
The advice is well-timed for me, because just yesterday, I caught myself saying a few things that, well, I should have "THINKed" about first. It's helpful for me to have this acronym in my life right now.
It can also be a good yardstick to use while sizing up new songs, new blog posts, Facebook comments...you name it.
At a time when there's more communication than ever, THINKing can help prevent harmful misunderstandings and unnecessary conflict.
His idea was simple. Before you speak, ask yourself if what you're about to say is:
T = True
H = Helpful
I = Inspiring
N = Necessary, and
K = Kind
The advice is well-timed for me, because just yesterday, I caught myself saying a few things that, well, I should have "THINKed" about first. It's helpful for me to have this acronym in my life right now.
It can also be a good yardstick to use while sizing up new songs, new blog posts, Facebook comments...you name it.
At a time when there's more communication than ever, THINKing can help prevent harmful misunderstandings and unnecessary conflict.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
These Friends, My Songs
Before most gigs, I write up a set list. Even though I inevitably rearrange the order of songs when I’m onstage, adding some and subtracting others, I find that the timely creation of a set list centers and calms me, giving me a sense of competence and purpose and soothing my pre-show nerves.
As I type up the lists of familiar song-titles, it occurs to me that I have come to think of these songs as friends, of a sort. Each song name carries with it a set of associations: experiences we have shared, places we have been.
Like human friends, each song has its own unique characteristics: things I love about it and traits that sometimes pose a challenge. As the years go by and I spend more time with each song in turn (each performance not unlike a shared cup of coffee) I get to know it better, and my appreciation and understanding of it deepens—unless, of course, we ultimately decide that we just don’t get along and we part ways.
These friends, my songs, hang around in groups. Certain ones stick together on set lists from year to year, complementing each other in particular ways. Sometimes one seems to introduce me to another, or to a whole new bunch. Other songs are loners. I might never write another one like it, and as a result it holds a special place in my life.
As a child, I liked to write lists: my favourite books, records, foods…lists of names for future children and pets…and lists of friends. I identified “best” friends, and as I look at my set lists now, certain ones do stand out as favourites. On the other hand, as an adult I now recognize that each friend plays a special and unique role in my life, so ranking them seem unnecessary. Anne helps me understand marriage and family. Rachel always makes me laugh. When I need peace and comfort, I turn to Mary.
I feel especially close to the songs I’ve known during the decade or so I’ve been singing professionally. Other songs existed before that, but they’re like childhood friends and I’m in touch with only a few of them now. Once in awhile, a forgotten song turns up unexpectedly. A page of lyric falls out of a file folder, like a grade school buddy saying hello on Facebook.
But new friends, they’re the most exciting. The heady rush of discovering a new song feels just like the jump-start of any new relationship. With a new song, you get the kind of excitement you’d get with a new love affair, but without all the messy complications. Plus, songs cannot get jealous of each other. In the set list of life, there’s always room for more.
As I try to balance the many responsibilities of my life, I often feel that I’m not attending adequately to all my human friends. I feel that way about songs at times too—that I'm neglecting them. I’m aware that my semi-regular performing schedule allows some of us to get together only a few times a year.
When I feel this way, the best antidote is a long, private music session in which I play all the songs I know…inviting in as many as I can think of. Reacquainting myself with each of them, I feel reconnected to myself—the stories, settings and observations that make life so rich.
So I gather these friends around me as often as I can, knowing that they won’t always be with me or (more accurately) me with them. They entertain me, give me courage, reflect my deepest feelings, lift me up when I’m down. I am grateful that at times they do the same things for other people. But even when I am the only person they keep company, these friends, my songs, serve me well.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Baffled Songwriters in Cyberspace
This article was first published on Roots Music Canada on January 3rd.
The word was “rhapsody”.
I was looking for a rhyme for it. Ever since I was twelve years old, I’ve puzzled over lyric lines, looking for the right word to fit into the right space.
When I get stuck, or I’m feeling lazy, sometimes I pick up a rhyming dictionary. I have a pocket-sized hardback Webster’s that I like. But on this particular day, it wasn’t on my desk.
So, in a move that reflects the Internet’s increasing influence, I idly typed “What rhymes with ‘rhapsody’?” into Google. To my horror, I discovered a website with hundreds of rhyming questions, posted by modern-day poets and songwriters hoping to be rescued by social networking.
We are entering a new age. Writers used to take long walks, fill blank notebooks, and mentally scroll through the alphabet letter by letter, searching for the best word to complete a verse. Today, aspiring poets and songwriters type in questions such as “What rhymes with trampled?”
Before I go on, I should tell you that according to the website I consulted , a good rhyme for “rhapsody” is “crap city” . Unfortunately that didn’t work very well in my song. But it didn’t matter, because, thus distracted, I suddenly found myself much more interested in the would-be verses of the online community than in my own ballad.
As I scanned the list of questions, I found myself feeling a deepening kinship with my fellow poets worldwide. "What rhymes with frankincense?" wrote one. (I typed in "common sense", trying to be helpful.) “What rhymes with urbanization?” wrote another. (Hmm…"colonization", "state of the nation", "rate of inflation”?)
Some writers seemed genuinely confused, such as the one who asked, "What is a word that rhymes with both big and wall?". Others were simply asking too much, such as the one who inquired, "What rhymes with the element ytterbium?”
Now, I admit, some words are very difficult to rhyme, and as a serious songwriter, I know how hard it can be to make them work. I honestly wish the best for the guy writing a song about rodeos, and I sympathize with the poet who's committed to 'audiovisual'. But sometimes you have to change course, let a beloved word go, try another idea. For the sake of the song, move on!
I think of the great lyricists of days gone by, people like Ira Gershwin and Cole Porter . Of course they got stuck on words, of course they struggled to find rhymes! They didn’t type them into the Internet, hoping to be bailed out. I doubt that Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan do today, either.
To be fair, it’s clear that many of these anonymous, online rhyme-seekers are children. In fact, they’re probably the same age I was when I started writing poetry and songs. As I look over their questions, I can’t help but think that our wired society is failing them. Wouldn’t it be best if the boy who typed “What is a magical person that rhymes with lizard?” came up with the answer on his own? Is there a sadder commentary on the current state of storytelling than the question “What rhymes with tuffet?”
One of my favourite baffled cyber-poets was the person writing about bonfire night. Over the course of an evening, he or she posted two specific questions: “What is a word that rhymes with rocket and is related to bonfire night?" followed, several hours later, by the equally vexing "What rhymes with colours that has to do with bonfire night”? (Mmm… crullers , anyone?)
O bonfire night writer, ye of little faith! If you are moved to write about that bonfire, you can stoke the sputtering embers of your imagination to come up with crackling words on your own! Instead of consulting Answers.com, invoke the spirits of every poet who’s ever moved you, whether it’s Joni Mitchell or Bob Marley , William Shakespeare or Fiona Apple . They would tell you: there are as many ways to write about bonfires as there are people in the world, but only you can write your poem. It is your own answers you are looking for, and they cannot be found on the Internet.
Finally, to the girl or boy who wrote “What golf words rhyme with Grandpa?” I would say: run away from the computer, pick up paper and pen and write down every “golf word” you know (ball, swing, hole, club, tee…) and every “Grandpa word” you know (tall, strong, old, loves…me!). Connect them up in a way that you like, and see what a wonderful poem you will have made.
Take your time, when you need a rhyme. Your brain is still the greatest search engine of all. It can help you find a rhyme for “rhapsody”…or maybe something even better (“rhapsody” reminding me too much of a Burton Cummings song anyway) as it finally did for me.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Message to the Future: Hidden Wisdom in Your Songs
James Keelaghan has a song called “Message to the Future” that lists a number of ways people write time-capsule messages to themselves, including by becoming parents. I believe that as artists, we send out messages to our future selves all the time.
In the same way that dreams send out coded messages from our unconscious to our conscious minds, our songs carry particular signals meant for us and us alone, in addition to any other audiences they reach.
With a little practice, you can learn to discover layers of meaning in your songs that you didn’t even know were there, and that can guide you in your life’s journey. In other words, a song might become a psychic “hit” for you—even if it never earns a penny!
Here’s where to look for those hidden messages:
Words that have more than one meaning
A song of mine is called “I Would Recognize You Anywhere”. When I wrote it, I meant the word “recognize” to mean “to identify someone by sight”, specifically a family member. However, one fan of the song “misunderstood” the word to mean “to affirm, honour or validate”— an alternate meaning I had never even considered. Since then, I have come to understand that the theme of “recognition-as-validation” is central to my life story and family history. As a result, my understanding of the song has become deeper and more nuanced, as have my performances of it.
Recurring symbols
The first time I ever used a house key as a symbol in my writing, I was about six years old. As an adolescent, I had trouble over lost keys…then, in my marriage, a house key became the central image in a story told and re-told to describe recurring conflict. As a musician, I even have a chronic insecurity about not knowing what “key” I’m in! It’s not surprising that one of my personal favourite original songs is called “Keys”. Meditating on that symbol and how it’s manifested itself in my life leads me to new insights. Playing the song is part of that meditation.
Songs you rarely play
Look carefully at any song that embarrasses you or that you never felt was “good enough” to play in public, any song that reveals something about you that you’d rather others not know, any song you rarely (or never) play in public that is alive for you privately. These songs may hold clues to areas of growth or understanding you may be avoiding. When you embrace these songs (whether or not you decide to play them in public) you also embrace parts of yourself that have been disowned.
A song from your long-ago past
If you have been writing songs for some time, you may discover that a song written a long time ago was a symbolic representation of circumstances you didn’t fully understand at the time. Propelled by our unconscious, the songs we write send us messages that our conscious minds cannot—and sometimes it takes years to decode them!
Recently, when I realized that a painful adult situation is a mirror of an unhealed aspect of my childhood, I suddenly remembered a song I had written as a teenager. Without consciously knowing what I was doing, I had described in poetic language the predicament I was in then and that I now find myself in as an adult. Even though I had been a precocious writer as a child, I didn’t have the maturity to consciously understand my situation—but my unconscious mind wrote a song that now sheds light on my life story and helps guide my growth.
If you find yourself in a time of personal challenge or discernment, look to the spiritual and subconscious dimensions of your songs as additional sources of wisdom.
In the same way that dreams send out coded messages from our unconscious to our conscious minds, our songs carry particular signals meant for us and us alone, in addition to any other audiences they reach.
With a little practice, you can learn to discover layers of meaning in your songs that you didn’t even know were there, and that can guide you in your life’s journey. In other words, a song might become a psychic “hit” for you—even if it never earns a penny!
Here’s where to look for those hidden messages:
Words that have more than one meaning
A song of mine is called “I Would Recognize You Anywhere”. When I wrote it, I meant the word “recognize” to mean “to identify someone by sight”, specifically a family member. However, one fan of the song “misunderstood” the word to mean “to affirm, honour or validate”— an alternate meaning I had never even considered. Since then, I have come to understand that the theme of “recognition-as-validation” is central to my life story and family history. As a result, my understanding of the song has become deeper and more nuanced, as have my performances of it.
Recurring symbols
The first time I ever used a house key as a symbol in my writing, I was about six years old. As an adolescent, I had trouble over lost keys…then, in my marriage, a house key became the central image in a story told and re-told to describe recurring conflict. As a musician, I even have a chronic insecurity about not knowing what “key” I’m in! It’s not surprising that one of my personal favourite original songs is called “Keys”. Meditating on that symbol and how it’s manifested itself in my life leads me to new insights. Playing the song is part of that meditation.
Songs you rarely play
Look carefully at any song that embarrasses you or that you never felt was “good enough” to play in public, any song that reveals something about you that you’d rather others not know, any song you rarely (or never) play in public that is alive for you privately. These songs may hold clues to areas of growth or understanding you may be avoiding. When you embrace these songs (whether or not you decide to play them in public) you also embrace parts of yourself that have been disowned.
A song from your long-ago past
If you have been writing songs for some time, you may discover that a song written a long time ago was a symbolic representation of circumstances you didn’t fully understand at the time. Propelled by our unconscious, the songs we write send us messages that our conscious minds cannot—and sometimes it takes years to decode them!
Recently, when I realized that a painful adult situation is a mirror of an unhealed aspect of my childhood, I suddenly remembered a song I had written as a teenager. Without consciously knowing what I was doing, I had described in poetic language the predicament I was in then and that I now find myself in as an adult. Even though I had been a precocious writer as a child, I didn’t have the maturity to consciously understand my situation—but my unconscious mind wrote a song that now sheds light on my life story and helps guide my growth.
If you find yourself in a time of personal challenge or discernment, look to the spiritual and subconscious dimensions of your songs as additional sources of wisdom.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Subscribers & Community
The other day I decided to "unsubscribe" from a music industry-related newsletter. To my surprise, its owner wrote to me immediately, dismayed that I wanted to exit.
I ended up staying on, partly for the information and partly because I had learned that my presence was important to the writer.
In our exchange, he expressed his belief that we are part of a community. I like that idea...and at the same time, I often wonder if true community is possible online.
How well do we know each other, if we only know each other by online profiles and emails? How likely are we to truly support each other when the going gets tough?
Which is more supportive: letting someone unsubscribe without fanfare, or following up...and if so, how?
I've always had a "no questions asked" policy, but after this experience I reconnected with someone who had recently left my list...someone I consider to be part of my genuine, real-life community, even though we've never met. I was very glad I did.
In order to build true community, people on both sides of the equation have to stay very conscious of the needs of others...the need for privacy, need for connection, need for readership...and see how we might best meet those needs.
Creating community is time-consuming and it's hard work...which is the exact opposite of what we often expect online connection to be.
I ended up staying on, partly for the information and partly because I had learned that my presence was important to the writer.
In our exchange, he expressed his belief that we are part of a community. I like that idea...and at the same time, I often wonder if true community is possible online.
How well do we know each other, if we only know each other by online profiles and emails? How likely are we to truly support each other when the going gets tough?
Which is more supportive: letting someone unsubscribe without fanfare, or following up...and if so, how?
I've always had a "no questions asked" policy, but after this experience I reconnected with someone who had recently left my list...someone I consider to be part of my genuine, real-life community, even though we've never met. I was very glad I did.
In order to build true community, people on both sides of the equation have to stay very conscious of the needs of others...the need for privacy, need for connection, need for readership...and see how we might best meet those needs.
Creating community is time-consuming and it's hard work...which is the exact opposite of what we often expect online connection to be.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
8 Ways to Keep Your Music Alive
Bob Baker writes about email marketing and branding for musicians. His article 7 Ways to Destroy Your Music Career is very witty and insightful…but it also struck me as a tad cynical and possibly dismissive of artists who may be genuinely struggling. Bob's tongue-in-cheek humour speaks to serious issues that affect many of today's independent musicians. I wondered if it would be worthwhile to re-frame his points in a positive way, maybe looking a little deeper at what's really going on in some musicians' "failing careers".
1) Bob writes, tongue-in-cheek: Give Away Your Personal Power
The first step to destroying your music career is to realize that your destiny is in the hands of other people and circumstances beyond your control. Fully embrace the fact that you need to be in the right place at the right time to get your "lucky break" and be "discovered." Industry people and music critics must deem you worthy of success for you to have value as a musician.
1) Translation: Reclaim Your Personal Power
If you feel angry, sad or anxious that you haven’t been recognized by the “powers that be” (whether you see them as industry people, music critics, influential musicians in your community or others), acknowledge your disappointment, but then reclaim your power by doing your best work for the people who appreciate it--whomever and wherever they are. Return to the people who do value you and your work, even if they are few in number and in places that are not part of the recognized music scene.
2. Turn Marketing, Promotion and Sales Into a Huge Burden
…Start referring to marketing as a "necessary evil" quick. Realize that you don't have what it takes to "sell yourself" and reach more fans. In fact, there's probably a biological reason you hate promotion: you were born without the critical marketing gene that all those "gift of gab" people have. Therefore, you are destined to live a lifetime of hardship as you struggle with having to engage in the ugly chore of self-promotion.
2) Maintain a Gentle and Steady Pace with Marketing
It may be true that you find marketing yourself uncomfortable. You may be an introvert, or you may have internalized judgmental messages that “promoting yourself” is self-centered or narcissistic. Get those messages out into the open, realize that they are false, and affirm that what you have to offer is valuable. Strive to communicate well and consistently with the people who want to hear your news, even if this requires you to stretch beyond your comfort zone at times. Reframe the activity as “communication” and “invitation” (or other words that are helpful to you) instead of “marketing” or “promotion”, if those have negative associations for you.
3) Be Fearful of Being Perceived as a Greedy, Capitalist Pig
It would be best not to even make people aware that you have things for sale. Just wait till they come to you. If they're interested, they'll ask. And if you want to score extra points, when they do ask, tell them you left all your CDs and T-shirts at home.
3) Affirm the Value of Your Work
If you have difficulty seeing your work as a commodity, notice your own buying patterns and how happily you spend money on music, books and art that you love. If spoken affirmations work for you, use them to reinforce your belief in the products you have created. Listen to your own work (either the recordings or the songs) and notice how much you love them and how much they have been worth to you. Take pride in these beautiful things you have made.
4) Use a Lack of Time, Money and Connections as Your Biggest Excuse
Have convenient scapegoats based on scarcity. Tell anyone who asks (as well as a lot of people who don't ask or care) how lousy your career is because of all the lack in your life. Frequently use phrases such as "There aren't enough hours in the day," "If I had that kind of money, I'd be a rock star too," and "It's not what you know, it's who you know."
4) Do What You Can With What You Have
Despite the particular challenges you face, make a decision to do your best. Circumstances do vary. Some artists do have more time or money or connections than others. Do not compare yourself to anyone. Instead, ask yourself if you are doing the best you can, today, with what you have. When (not “if”) you feel frustrated by difficult circumstances, use them to deepen your understanding of all human struggle—which in turn will deepen your artistic work.
5) Market Yourself to the Faceless Masses Using Traditional Big Media
Realize that it takes big bucks spent on radio promotion, retail placement, billboards, and paid display ads in national magazines to succeed. This mass media mindset is your ticket to success ... at hitting the fast track to failure.
5) Choose the Vehicle That's Right for You
If you have made the mistake of spending large amounts of money on traditional marketing vehicles that didn’t pay off, chalk it up to experience and don’t do it again. Question your faith in these vehicles. Notice how you, as a consumer, have been influenced by them. Gently acknowledge that, because you have been raised in a commercial consumer culture, you wanted major media attention (or for that matter, alternative media attention) for your work. Forgive your work, and yourself, if it didn't come your way. Protect your financial resources for your own ongoing stability and well-being.
Bonus tip: Never answer your email from fans, and rarely -- if ever -- log into your Facebook, MySpace or Twitter accounts. Better yet, don't even start these accounts.
In the absence of major marketing vehicles, communicate as well as you can with your fans, in the time that is available to you. If your fans are too numerous for you to maintain personal contact with (personally I think the limit is about 100), accept that fact and give yourself permission to stay kindly detached. Use social networking tools consciously and judiciously. Protect your "real life" time, especially time in nature, and be mindful of the addictive quality of electronic communication. Log off when necessary and for as long as necessary. Hans Selye (the Canadian stress researcher, now deceased) wrote: “The great art is to express one’s vitality through the particular channels and at the particular speed Nature foresaw for us.” Protect yourself against stress.
6) Promote Yourself Sporadically and Only When It's Urgent
If you have a mailing list (and with sucky email delivery and open rates these days, why bother?), be sure the fans on your list don't hear from you very often.
6) Keep in Touch
Maintain consistent and kind communication with the people on your list. Keep them informed about events and new music that’s likely to interest them. If your “open rates” are low, add more value to your mailings with relevant links and recommendations, inspirational quotes and other appropriate value-adds.
7) Know That Everyone Owes You Something Simply Because You Exist
Simply know that everyone will care as much about you and your music as you do. Understand that complete strangers will indeed listen to every note of your 70-minute concept album and read every word of your 10-page bio. Be sure to send long, in-depth emails and leave lengthy, rambling voice mail messages for the imbeciles who don't recognize your greatness. Also, be sure to insult anyone who doesn't get back to you within 10 minutes.
7) Respect Your Audience
You know what? I don’t believe that any artist--no matter how incompetent--is actually as ego-driven or self-centred as Bob suggests here. The joy of creative activity often blinds people to the fact that their work is inaccessible or unappealing to others; the impulse to share The 70-Minute Opus is, at heart, a generous and vital and deeply human act—and without that sharing, artists would never grow.
Remember the internalized negative judgments ("self-promoters are narcissists") mentioned in Point #2, that impede many artist's ability to promote themselves? They're implicit in Bob's last point. But I agree with what he's saying about respect, so I’d reframe his advice this way: Notice when your audience is engaged and enlivened vs. when they’re tuning out. Do what it takes to engage and enliven them. Make a conscious decision to treat the people listening to you with love and respect at all times, including when you send out emails, perform and seek gigs.
Bob's article contains two contradictory but true messages: 1) Go boldly forward and promote your work and 2) Few people may truly care about it.
Independent musicians today receive both of these heavily weighted messages, all the time. No wonder we're having trouble!
8). Embrace Paradox
The way I see it, in order to stay engaged and excited about any kind of public creative endeavor, we need to do two things at the same time: affirm the value of the creative work we do and offer it to people who can use it, and keep our work in perspective--a broader perspective today than ever before. Our songs are both very big (worth creating, worth sharing, worth selling, worth celebrating) and infinitesimally small ("your 70-song opus is one of millions in my inbox").
We have to embrace the "meaningful/not meaningful" paradox in order to keep our music alive, any way we can.
Thanks for reading.
1) Bob writes, tongue-in-cheek: Give Away Your Personal Power
The first step to destroying your music career is to realize that your destiny is in the hands of other people and circumstances beyond your control. Fully embrace the fact that you need to be in the right place at the right time to get your "lucky break" and be "discovered." Industry people and music critics must deem you worthy of success for you to have value as a musician.
1) Translation: Reclaim Your Personal Power
If you feel angry, sad or anxious that you haven’t been recognized by the “powers that be” (whether you see them as industry people, music critics, influential musicians in your community or others), acknowledge your disappointment, but then reclaim your power by doing your best work for the people who appreciate it--whomever and wherever they are. Return to the people who do value you and your work, even if they are few in number and in places that are not part of the recognized music scene.
2. Turn Marketing, Promotion and Sales Into a Huge Burden
…Start referring to marketing as a "necessary evil" quick. Realize that you don't have what it takes to "sell yourself" and reach more fans. In fact, there's probably a biological reason you hate promotion: you were born without the critical marketing gene that all those "gift of gab" people have. Therefore, you are destined to live a lifetime of hardship as you struggle with having to engage in the ugly chore of self-promotion.
2) Maintain a Gentle and Steady Pace with Marketing
It may be true that you find marketing yourself uncomfortable. You may be an introvert, or you may have internalized judgmental messages that “promoting yourself” is self-centered or narcissistic. Get those messages out into the open, realize that they are false, and affirm that what you have to offer is valuable. Strive to communicate well and consistently with the people who want to hear your news, even if this requires you to stretch beyond your comfort zone at times. Reframe the activity as “communication” and “invitation” (or other words that are helpful to you) instead of “marketing” or “promotion”, if those have negative associations for you.
3) Be Fearful of Being Perceived as a Greedy, Capitalist Pig
It would be best not to even make people aware that you have things for sale. Just wait till they come to you. If they're interested, they'll ask. And if you want to score extra points, when they do ask, tell them you left all your CDs and T-shirts at home.
3) Affirm the Value of Your Work
If you have difficulty seeing your work as a commodity, notice your own buying patterns and how happily you spend money on music, books and art that you love. If spoken affirmations work for you, use them to reinforce your belief in the products you have created. Listen to your own work (either the recordings or the songs) and notice how much you love them and how much they have been worth to you. Take pride in these beautiful things you have made.
4) Use a Lack of Time, Money and Connections as Your Biggest Excuse
Have convenient scapegoats based on scarcity. Tell anyone who asks (as well as a lot of people who don't ask or care) how lousy your career is because of all the lack in your life. Frequently use phrases such as "There aren't enough hours in the day," "If I had that kind of money, I'd be a rock star too," and "It's not what you know, it's who you know."
4) Do What You Can With What You Have
Despite the particular challenges you face, make a decision to do your best. Circumstances do vary. Some artists do have more time or money or connections than others. Do not compare yourself to anyone. Instead, ask yourself if you are doing the best you can, today, with what you have. When (not “if”) you feel frustrated by difficult circumstances, use them to deepen your understanding of all human struggle—which in turn will deepen your artistic work.
5) Market Yourself to the Faceless Masses Using Traditional Big Media
Realize that it takes big bucks spent on radio promotion, retail placement, billboards, and paid display ads in national magazines to succeed. This mass media mindset is your ticket to success ... at hitting the fast track to failure.
5) Choose the Vehicle That's Right for You
If you have made the mistake of spending large amounts of money on traditional marketing vehicles that didn’t pay off, chalk it up to experience and don’t do it again. Question your faith in these vehicles. Notice how you, as a consumer, have been influenced by them. Gently acknowledge that, because you have been raised in a commercial consumer culture, you wanted major media attention (or for that matter, alternative media attention) for your work. Forgive your work, and yourself, if it didn't come your way. Protect your financial resources for your own ongoing stability and well-being.
Bonus tip: Never answer your email from fans, and rarely -- if ever -- log into your Facebook, MySpace or Twitter accounts. Better yet, don't even start these accounts.
In the absence of major marketing vehicles, communicate as well as you can with your fans, in the time that is available to you. If your fans are too numerous for you to maintain personal contact with (personally I think the limit is about 100), accept that fact and give yourself permission to stay kindly detached. Use social networking tools consciously and judiciously. Protect your "real life" time, especially time in nature, and be mindful of the addictive quality of electronic communication. Log off when necessary and for as long as necessary. Hans Selye (the Canadian stress researcher, now deceased) wrote: “The great art is to express one’s vitality through the particular channels and at the particular speed Nature foresaw for us.” Protect yourself against stress.
6) Promote Yourself Sporadically and Only When It's Urgent
If you have a mailing list (and with sucky email delivery and open rates these days, why bother?), be sure the fans on your list don't hear from you very often.
6) Keep in Touch
Maintain consistent and kind communication with the people on your list. Keep them informed about events and new music that’s likely to interest them. If your “open rates” are low, add more value to your mailings with relevant links and recommendations, inspirational quotes and other appropriate value-adds.
7) Know That Everyone Owes You Something Simply Because You Exist
Simply know that everyone will care as much about you and your music as you do. Understand that complete strangers will indeed listen to every note of your 70-minute concept album and read every word of your 10-page bio. Be sure to send long, in-depth emails and leave lengthy, rambling voice mail messages for the imbeciles who don't recognize your greatness. Also, be sure to insult anyone who doesn't get back to you within 10 minutes.
7) Respect Your Audience
You know what? I don’t believe that any artist--no matter how incompetent--is actually as ego-driven or self-centred as Bob suggests here. The joy of creative activity often blinds people to the fact that their work is inaccessible or unappealing to others; the impulse to share The 70-Minute Opus is, at heart, a generous and vital and deeply human act—and without that sharing, artists would never grow.
Remember the internalized negative judgments ("self-promoters are narcissists") mentioned in Point #2, that impede many artist's ability to promote themselves? They're implicit in Bob's last point. But I agree with what he's saying about respect, so I’d reframe his advice this way: Notice when your audience is engaged and enlivened vs. when they’re tuning out. Do what it takes to engage and enliven them. Make a conscious decision to treat the people listening to you with love and respect at all times, including when you send out emails, perform and seek gigs.
Bob's article contains two contradictory but true messages: 1) Go boldly forward and promote your work and 2) Few people may truly care about it.
Independent musicians today receive both of these heavily weighted messages, all the time. No wonder we're having trouble!
8). Embrace Paradox
The way I see it, in order to stay engaged and excited about any kind of public creative endeavor, we need to do two things at the same time: affirm the value of the creative work we do and offer it to people who can use it, and keep our work in perspective--a broader perspective today than ever before. Our songs are both very big (worth creating, worth sharing, worth selling, worth celebrating) and infinitesimally small ("your 70-song opus is one of millions in my inbox").
We have to embrace the "meaningful/not meaningful" paradox in order to keep our music alive, any way we can.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The 100 Mile Artist Revisited
It's been over a year since I started tossing around this idea, and it's starting to catch on. I've also heard people talk about "Slow Music" (a la "Slow Food")...not to be confused with the tempo!
However you name it, the concept seeks to find new definitions for artistic & musical success by looking to the environmental movement for guidance instead of the commercial entertainment industry. I thought this might be a good time to re-post the "how-to" list. It is a work-in-progress.
"The great art is to express one's vitality through the particular channels and at the particular speed that Nature foresaw for us." - Hans Selye
How to be a 100-mile artist:
Primarily perform in your own hometown or geographic region.
Draw your inspiration primarily from that place, from your life and the lives of people you know.
Support local initiatives with your songs by performing at community events, sometimes on a volunteer basis.
Write excellent songs about people and initiatives in your community.
Apply a high level of craftsmanship to every song and performance, so that your songs are as meaningful and appealing as those of well-known artists.
Share your songs with others.
Become a more conscious and selective consumer of mass-produced cultural products.
Support other local artists by buying their products and attending their shows.
Reject messages such as “you have to be famous to matter” and “only mass distributed products are worthwhile”.
Reframe your assessment of your musical success, based on community-minded goals rather than commercially-minded ones: For example, “How can I bring people together?: is a better question than “How many people can I get to come out?”
Find complementary ways of earning income so that you can live sustainably and continue to grow and mature as an artist who enriches the lives of others.
However you name it, the concept seeks to find new definitions for artistic & musical success by looking to the environmental movement for guidance instead of the commercial entertainment industry. I thought this might be a good time to re-post the "how-to" list. It is a work-in-progress.
"The great art is to express one's vitality through the particular channels and at the particular speed that Nature foresaw for us." - Hans Selye
How to be a 100-mile artist:
Primarily perform in your own hometown or geographic region.
Draw your inspiration primarily from that place, from your life and the lives of people you know.
Support local initiatives with your songs by performing at community events, sometimes on a volunteer basis.
Write excellent songs about people and initiatives in your community.
Apply a high level of craftsmanship to every song and performance, so that your songs are as meaningful and appealing as those of well-known artists.
Share your songs with others.
Become a more conscious and selective consumer of mass-produced cultural products.
Support other local artists by buying their products and attending their shows.
Reject messages such as “you have to be famous to matter” and “only mass distributed products are worthwhile”.
Reframe your assessment of your musical success, based on community-minded goals rather than commercially-minded ones: For example, “How can I bring people together?: is a better question than “How many people can I get to come out?”
Find complementary ways of earning income so that you can live sustainably and continue to grow and mature as an artist who enriches the lives of others.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The 10-Minute Restart
Sometimes a song gets stalled. Maybe you have a good title line or a hook, and you're excited about it for awhile, but suddenly...nothing.
Your enthusiasm vanishes, the song can't find a comfortable groove, the ideas are flat and muddled. Ick.
When this happens to me, I have to reboot.
That means I put the original idea aside, for at least a whole day. Instead of working diligently on it, I completely drop it.
Then, a day or so later, I devote ten minutes of creative "prime time" (for me, that's first thing in the morning, around 9 a.m.) to the song.
And here's the really important part.
I don't go back my original idea. I start completely fresh, with new chords and melody and rhythm. In fact, I try to make it as musically different from my original idea as I can. (Often I recycle lyric ideas, but usually just the title line.)
Usually in that "10 minute restart", a new song emerges that is much better than the first.
Try it next time you're stuck.
Your enthusiasm vanishes, the song can't find a comfortable groove, the ideas are flat and muddled. Ick.
When this happens to me, I have to reboot.
That means I put the original idea aside, for at least a whole day. Instead of working diligently on it, I completely drop it.
Then, a day or so later, I devote ten minutes of creative "prime time" (for me, that's first thing in the morning, around 9 a.m.) to the song.
And here's the really important part.
I don't go back my original idea. I start completely fresh, with new chords and melody and rhythm. In fact, I try to make it as musically different from my original idea as I can. (Often I recycle lyric ideas, but usually just the title line.)
Usually in that "10 minute restart", a new song emerges that is much better than the first.
Try it next time you're stuck.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Picky, picky, picky
I wrote a song over the weekend and it's almost finished.
But I'm still fiddling with one line. It's an important line, right at the end of the song--and ideally it will sum up the point of the whole piece.
No wonder I'm being so picky.
I think it's worth going to this extra effort, to make sure the song is exactly right. Whenever I settle for something that's "close enough", I never shake off that unsatisfied feeling.
The truth is, I really care about what I say to my audience. I don't want to say something I don't mean (or something that doesn't make sense) so I work hard to be as precise as I can.
Sometimes it's really maddening process, because the precise words aren't quite conversational or don't fit the rhyme.
Sometimes I have to rewrite an entire verse to get it right.
I've read that Leonard Cohen has pages of unused verses for many of his songs. Needless to say, even his discarded lyrics are probably better than anything I've ever written.
His perfectionism may be extreme...but having high standards is a good thing. As the old saying goes, "Shoot for the moon and you might land in the stars."
When I feel a niggling feeling of dissatisfaction, sometimes I do shrug it off...but sometimes I ask myself, "What would Leonard do?"
And then I take another look at that verse.
But I'm still fiddling with one line. It's an important line, right at the end of the song--and ideally it will sum up the point of the whole piece.
No wonder I'm being so picky.
I think it's worth going to this extra effort, to make sure the song is exactly right. Whenever I settle for something that's "close enough", I never shake off that unsatisfied feeling.
The truth is, I really care about what I say to my audience. I don't want to say something I don't mean (or something that doesn't make sense) so I work hard to be as precise as I can.
Sometimes it's really maddening process, because the precise words aren't quite conversational or don't fit the rhyme.
Sometimes I have to rewrite an entire verse to get it right.
I've read that Leonard Cohen has pages of unused verses for many of his songs. Needless to say, even his discarded lyrics are probably better than anything I've ever written.
His perfectionism may be extreme...but having high standards is a good thing. As the old saying goes, "Shoot for the moon and you might land in the stars."
When I feel a niggling feeling of dissatisfaction, sometimes I do shrug it off...but sometimes I ask myself, "What would Leonard do?"
And then I take another look at that verse.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Jukebox in Your Head
Want to try an experiment?
Take a moment to notice if a song is going through your head.
(I have a theory that songwriters have a perpetual jukebox in their brain, all the time. But maybe everybody does! Is this true? Let me know!)
So...pause...and check which song is playing now. It might be one of your own, or it might be somebody else's.
Your brain is constantly on "shuffle". But I don't think it's random.
You see, the song that was playing in my head just now was Cyndi Lauper's "True Colours". Coincidentally (not!), it offers specific insight on how I need to approach a current challenge.
Earlier in the day, another "random" song in my head related directly to another task. I was mailing promo packages...and the song was one of mine called "Safe Arrival".
[Hmmm...I just realized something. Now those songs might be playing in your head...or at least Cyndi's because you're more likely to know it. If I re-programmed your jukebox just now, wait a little while until it naturally resets.]
Now, take a moment to notice the song playing in your head...and see if it's what you need to hear.
Take a moment to notice if a song is going through your head.
(I have a theory that songwriters have a perpetual jukebox in their brain, all the time. But maybe everybody does! Is this true? Let me know!)
So...pause...and check which song is playing now. It might be one of your own, or it might be somebody else's.
Your brain is constantly on "shuffle". But I don't think it's random.
You see, the song that was playing in my head just now was Cyndi Lauper's "True Colours". Coincidentally (not!), it offers specific insight on how I need to approach a current challenge.
Earlier in the day, another "random" song in my head related directly to another task. I was mailing promo packages...and the song was one of mine called "Safe Arrival".
[Hmmm...I just realized something. Now those songs might be playing in your head...or at least Cyndi's because you're more likely to know it. If I re-programmed your jukebox just now, wait a little while until it naturally resets.]
Now, take a moment to notice the song playing in your head...and see if it's what you need to hear.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Maybe your songs know the way
I just read another on-target blog by Derek Sivers, the indie music guru and founder of CD Baby. Today his thought-provoking article is called "Listen to my music and let me know what I should do."
It reminded me of something a friend told me years ago (no doubt when I was puzzling over what I should do).
She said: "All you have to do is listen to your songs."
To clarify: I don't think she meant that anybody else should listen to my songs to figure out their personal direction. She just meant that I should.
She was reminding me to look within to find direction, to trust my inner voice.
If you're a songwriter, chances are your inner voice will step out from time to time, onto a stage or onto a CD. (It can hide in those places too...and false selves do love the limelight. Maybe the inner voice is in a notebook, or a dream.)
When we tune into our inner wisdom, we'll be able to create work that's authentic and meaningful more often...and if we maintain our connection to that true voice within, we'll be able to more easily recognize an authentic path and follow it.
We'll be able to figure out what we're called to do next...
Without asking Derek Sivers.
It reminded me of something a friend told me years ago (no doubt when I was puzzling over what I should do).
She said: "All you have to do is listen to your songs."
To clarify: I don't think she meant that anybody else should listen to my songs to figure out their personal direction. She just meant that I should.
She was reminding me to look within to find direction, to trust my inner voice.
If you're a songwriter, chances are your inner voice will step out from time to time, onto a stage or onto a CD. (It can hide in those places too...and false selves do love the limelight. Maybe the inner voice is in a notebook, or a dream.)
When we tune into our inner wisdom, we'll be able to create work that's authentic and meaningful more often...and if we maintain our connection to that true voice within, we'll be able to more easily recognize an authentic path and follow it.
We'll be able to figure out what we're called to do next...
Without asking Derek Sivers.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Dave Carroll: A Songwriter Not Without Options
Here's a David vs. Goliath story that will get you cheering for the little guy and humming a catchy tune.
After Dave Carroll's $3,500 Taylor Guitar was mangled by United Airlines baggage handlers, at first he tried to solve the problem through the official channels. After getting nowhere for the better part of a year, he realized that "As a songwriter and traveling musician, I was not without options". (Here's the whole story.)
I love that. "As a songwriter...I was not without options."
Realizing that he had power--and a lot of it, actually--he exercised his option to write the song "United Breaks Guitars" and produce it as a video. (He says it's the first of a trilogy! As I've always said, anger is a great tool for writing songs!)
The song has now gone viral, his band Sons of Maxwell has attracted press coverage all over the world...and we can only hope that Dave gets a brand new guitar from United out of it, plus an apology, in addition to the well-deserved career boost he's getting now.
Meanwhile, may his lemons-into-lemonade story be a lesson to us all:
As songwriters, we are not without options!
After Dave Carroll's $3,500 Taylor Guitar was mangled by United Airlines baggage handlers, at first he tried to solve the problem through the official channels. After getting nowhere for the better part of a year, he realized that "As a songwriter and traveling musician, I was not without options". (Here's the whole story.)
I love that. "As a songwriter...I was not without options."
Realizing that he had power--and a lot of it, actually--he exercised his option to write the song "United Breaks Guitars" and produce it as a video. (He says it's the first of a trilogy! As I've always said, anger is a great tool for writing songs!)
The song has now gone viral, his band Sons of Maxwell has attracted press coverage all over the world...and we can only hope that Dave gets a brand new guitar from United out of it, plus an apology, in addition to the well-deserved career boost he's getting now.
Meanwhile, may his lemons-into-lemonade story be a lesson to us all:
As songwriters, we are not without options!
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Songs as Seeds
Right now, a number of my friends are job-hunting. At the same time, I've been seeking good homes for my songs. We've all been surveying the landscape, bravely seeking out new opportunities.
Meanwhile, I've been gardening.
If I think of songs as seeds, I notice that the more I share them (releasing them freely into the world without expectation) the more chance they have to take root and do some good.
Of course, sometimes they fall in places that can't nourish them, just as many perfectly good seeds land on concrete every summer day.
But at other times, and often when I least expect it, a song-seed will find its way to fertile ground and immediately bear fruit! Just the other day, for instance, I came upon a perfect new place to play, a ten-minute walk from my home. A welcome patch of green.
I'm a big fan of local gardens, but it's also amazing how far the gusty wind of the internet can carry a song. Write something original and truthful and beautiful, and you're likely to get an unexpected thank-you from thousands of miles away.
Who knows where these seeds will grow?
Meanwhile, I've been gardening.
If I think of songs as seeds, I notice that the more I share them (releasing them freely into the world without expectation) the more chance they have to take root and do some good.
Of course, sometimes they fall in places that can't nourish them, just as many perfectly good seeds land on concrete every summer day.
But at other times, and often when I least expect it, a song-seed will find its way to fertile ground and immediately bear fruit! Just the other day, for instance, I came upon a perfect new place to play, a ten-minute walk from my home. A welcome patch of green.
I'm a big fan of local gardens, but it's also amazing how far the gusty wind of the internet can carry a song. Write something original and truthful and beautiful, and you're likely to get an unexpected thank-you from thousands of miles away.
Who knows where these seeds will grow?
Friday, July 03, 2009
The small "i" on the iPod
Yesterday a friend wrote to tell me that her 9 year-old is busily loading up her iPod with some of her favourite music: Disney, Michael Jackson, Lynn Harrison!
I'm truly honoured.
(I wonder which songs will come up on "shuffle". Will Disney's "High School Musical" miraculously follow my "First Day of School"?)
I'm so glad that my music brings joy to this delightful girl--and I'm grateful it does so without all the entertainment-business machinery that surrounds my playlist companions.
After all, that machinery created "Michael Jackson", the brand, but it helped destroy Michael Jackson, the human being.
This is a good time to notice the benefits of being a lesser-known artist and to celebrate the wonders of small-scale production. It's wonderful that, in our time, we can create music that is easily reproduced and enjoyed on iPods everywhere. Imagine!
Produced on relatively small budgets, it may be "imperfect" by some standards...but it can also be meaningful, beautiful and whole. In the end, what else matters?
Alongside Michael Jackson's, our songs can live on, independent of us. Meanwhile, if we're lucky, we can create balanced lives that make sense of our various occupations. We can keep our egos in check and our expectations reasonable.
Hopefully we can accept ourselves as we are, and appreciate the miraculous days that we have.
Here's to the small "i"s on iPods everywhere...surviving just fine beside the big names.
I'm truly honoured.
(I wonder which songs will come up on "shuffle". Will Disney's "High School Musical" miraculously follow my "First Day of School"?)
I'm so glad that my music brings joy to this delightful girl--and I'm grateful it does so without all the entertainment-business machinery that surrounds my playlist companions.
After all, that machinery created "Michael Jackson", the brand, but it helped destroy Michael Jackson, the human being.
This is a good time to notice the benefits of being a lesser-known artist and to celebrate the wonders of small-scale production. It's wonderful that, in our time, we can create music that is easily reproduced and enjoyed on iPods everywhere. Imagine!
Produced on relatively small budgets, it may be "imperfect" by some standards...but it can also be meaningful, beautiful and whole. In the end, what else matters?
Alongside Michael Jackson's, our songs can live on, independent of us. Meanwhile, if we're lucky, we can create balanced lives that make sense of our various occupations. We can keep our egos in check and our expectations reasonable.
Hopefully we can accept ourselves as we are, and appreciate the miraculous days that we have.
Here's to the small "i"s on iPods everywhere...surviving just fine beside the big names.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Toronto We Know
A few months ago I started reading about a song contest being hosted by the City of Toronto. In honour of the city's 175th anniversary, a call went out for new songs that honour this place we call home.
Now that's a difficult challenge, I thought.
The word "Toronto" is hard to rhyme with, for one thing. And every song starts with a story... What kind of story could I tell about Toronto, in a song?
On a walk home from a friend's house in Cabbagetown, I started thinking about how other people in Canada sometimes say disparaging things about Toronto...how from time to time I've heard Toronto portrayed as a less-than-friendly, closed sort of place, and one that's somewhat large and frightening.
But that's not the Toronto I know.
I know a friendly city of diverse people who are open and generous and kind. ("It's not such a big and scary place, with so many different smiling faces.")
I know a city made up of smaller neighbourhoods ("growing strong, doing good") where people help each other out, every day, in large and small ways.
In such warm and caring neighbourhoods, difficult times can be overcome. ("Some see storms ahead, but we see the rainbow.")
The Toronto I know is also a place where people work together, and so it's fitting that in order to complete and produce this song, I needed to call on David Leask , a gifted songwriter and singer who hails originally from Edinburgh, Scotland.
By working together, we made a stronger song...one that has landed in the Top 10 of the City of Toronto's 175th Anniversary Song Contest. (Starting June 18th you can vote for it here .)
We hope you enjoy "The Toronto We Know" !
Now that's a difficult challenge, I thought.
The word "Toronto" is hard to rhyme with, for one thing. And every song starts with a story... What kind of story could I tell about Toronto, in a song?
On a walk home from a friend's house in Cabbagetown, I started thinking about how other people in Canada sometimes say disparaging things about Toronto...how from time to time I've heard Toronto portrayed as a less-than-friendly, closed sort of place, and one that's somewhat large and frightening.
But that's not the Toronto I know.
I know a friendly city of diverse people who are open and generous and kind. ("It's not such a big and scary place, with so many different smiling faces.")
I know a city made up of smaller neighbourhoods ("growing strong, doing good") where people help each other out, every day, in large and small ways.
In such warm and caring neighbourhoods, difficult times can be overcome. ("Some see storms ahead, but we see the rainbow.")
The Toronto I know is also a place where people work together, and so it's fitting that in order to complete and produce this song, I needed to call on David Leask , a gifted songwriter and singer who hails originally from Edinburgh, Scotland.
By working together, we made a stronger song...one that has landed in the Top 10 of the City of Toronto's 175th Anniversary Song Contest. (Starting June 18th you can vote for it here .)
We hope you enjoy "The Toronto We Know" !
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