I love my kids. But I’m sure enjoying the free time (time to write) while they’re at camp.
As the heading suggests, I have just written and recorded (and posted to rapidshare.com) a song in the unmistakable style of the father of modern country music, Merle Haggard.
The song is called Dear Father, and started as an open letter to my late dad. (BTW if you missed my birthday party, my dad committed suicide at the same age (50) that I just turned) (Wow, that’s my second song that is an open letter to my dad–maybe two’s enough)
Dear Father(c) by Tom Wernigg
Dear Father,
You never told me about the things you did
when you were just a messed-up a kid like me
Did you sneak your old man’s cigarettes,
did you lay in bed and cry yourself to sleep?
You never showed me how it looks to see
a strong man who is brave enough to cry
I had to grow up on my own
I had to wait for someone close to me to die
You never taught me to be bold in love
You never should me how to look for love at all
Did you waste your youth in fantasies?
Did you always wait for someone else to call?
You never showed me you could break up
and still wake up to a bright new shiny day
I had to grow up on my own
I thought the pain would never go away
I didn’t need you to teach me how to catch a ball or catch a big ole’ bass
But I needed you to show me how to stand and fight or sometimes just to laugh
I don’t mean I don’t appreciate that you stuck around to keep our family fed
I guess you did the best you could, and I can’t expect more now that you’re dead
Dear father,
You never told me how you lived your life
Did you live it day by day, or planned with care
Was mom more than a fling?
Did I come along because of the love you shared?
You never showed me how it looked to see
A man who had a passion or a dream
I had to grow up on my own
And I pushed my own needs down ’til I had to scream
Chorus
I guess you did the best you could, but I can’t help but wish that you did more
I had to grow up on my own, and you ain’t here to help me anymore
And for those who have musical interests besides (and perhaps excluding) Country…I plan to make a concerted effort to veer in other directions over the next several days. Though I do have a couple more songs that need recording and uploading…perhaps they are a little Country…
It’s funny how I feel the need to apologize for my musical styles. I think it’s partly because most of my friends don’t listen to Country music…my mom sure does, though. Mom, you out there?
Which brings me to the topic I wanted to discuss today, in reference to songwriting: musical styles.
I addition to convincing me to follow my dreams more eagerly, Jewel also encouraged me to find an agent of some sort, an idea my wife has pushed for some time.
I’m inclined to agree with them, and I am now officially looking for someone to peddle my songs. The question is: should I be focusing my writing in a particular style? Or should I broaden my style so as to maximize my potential audience?
The fact is, my songs span many styles. Primarily I consider myself a folksinger. But I’ve written a couple jazz pieces, several blues songs, bluegrass, of course, then some ballads, of various persuasions.
As to the songwriting, I usually do sit down with a style in mind. Curiously, it seldom ends up the way I plan. The last song I wrote, Will it All Come Together…?, was supposed to be a rock and roll number in the style of Chuck Barry. Instead it ended up folk, as in John Prine. (BTW overall it’s unusual for my songs to land so solidly in the style of a particular artist, as the last two did)
I’ll share a secret, for non-musicians: a given song can be sung in practically any style. I particularly enjoy the current fashion in bluegrass to cover popular songs. For instance, Dark Side of the Moon, and other unexpected pieces. (I think a bluegrass band actually covered that entire album!)
However, a particular style generally lends itself better to a given song. The reason Will it All Come Together…? left the school of rock and roll to join John Prine in the world of folk is because it plain didn’t fit as a rock and roll song. And once I tried it the other way, there was no doubt.
I think mood has something to do with it, as far as songwriting in a particular style goes. And then there are influences. I grew up listening to Conway Twitty and Tammy Wynette on the car radio long before my arms were long enough to change the chanel. Blame my mom.