It’s 9:30 am, and I think I’m on to something. I’ve borrowed a phase I scribbled on a legal pad a few years ago: Oh Lord, not now. I don’t think I had anything specific in mind when I wrote it. Perhaps it was in a moment of panic. But I don’t remember it that way.
I think it just popped into my head. I often write such things down: overheard remarks, or ideas or feelings that pop into my head. (Popping into my head is a notion that writers must all wonder about, and I’ll get to my musings on that later) Usually these phrases have a rhythm that appeals to me; they feel like they would work in a song or a poem. I read in an interview that David Bearn writes songs this way. (I got the impression he wrote entire songs with overheard phrases) I often think Dylan songs are like this. I know that he literally wrote some of his songs by cutting out phrases more or less randomly from the newspaper. (Everybody Must Get Stoned…) Surely he mixed them with connecting phrases, but in some cases I’m ready to believe he retained as much randomness as possible–on purpose.
I begin many songs in this manner, but I’ll build the whole song from one phrase instead of mixing them. Like I sometimes make wooden objects around a particular item that interests me–or happens to be available. I remember particularly a cabinet I made around a small door I picked up on the side of the road somewhere. But in that case, when I had finished, the woods didn’t match, so I ended up switching the door out with something else. I do the same in songs. It’s sort of like homeopathic song-writing.
The subject of this rant seems to be: song-writing hints. Or writing hints in general. I collect them. (Everybody knows that the Beatle’s Yesterday was originally titled Scrambled Eggs.)
Like carpenters must look discerningly at houses and cabinets, I always am trying to learn, or hone, my craft in this manner. I take songs apart in my mind. Let’s see, this song is AABAB (verse, verse, chorus, verse, chorus) (take the song I wrote yesterday, for instance). Or: He adds a bridge after the third verse…interesting. Though it’s not. That’s another all-too-common pattern.
I’ve read a few books written by well-known song writers. Though by and large, their advice is only moderately useful to me. Sure, I’ll pick up an idea here or there that serves me. But usually I find I already do what they are doing–or else I don’t want to. I find many song-writing habits are idiosyncratic. They are what makes a particular writer’s songs unique. And being unique is a major concern to artists of any ilk.
But I do like reading interviews with song-writers I like. The question everyone gets asked is, Do you write the music first, or the lyrics. And it seems most song-writers fall on one side or other of this question. Personally, I tend to jot down lyrics first, but very soon I’ll sit down with my guitar and try to find some chords that sound good with what I’ve written. Then the lyrics and music evolve together. Though in all honesty, I’ve done it every which way. The full lyric first; or the music first. I wrote My Mini Van–one of my most popular songs–that way. At least the first verse and chorus came out of a piece. (As an aside, I wrote that song a few days after the World Trade Center bombings, looking out on the parking lot of my work, and seeing all the American flags on the cars.) Another, which isn’t on a record yet, is Swept Away, which I’m very proud of–and which is being song by some people around town…okay, one person. (But still a thrill) That lyric was complete before I tried to put it to music. (I actually wrote Swept Away for a play that never got written, but that’s another story)
Then many songs start out with a verse, say, and I’ll put that to music. And then I’ll build the other verses on top of the music.
I know most of what I’m writing will be dribble to most people, and only of interest to other song-writers. But it feels good to share something so vital to me, so I press onward. In the meantime, I have a song to write!