Career Songwriter

When I began writing songs, I remember the fear of sitting down in front of a blank page. There was a certain amount of trembling expectation, a sense of humility as I’d attempt to express myself through lyric and music. Nowadays, I still feel those same jitters, but with a great deal more foresight and confidence as I move through the writing process. Looking back, I realize it was not one moment of realization, one tool of the craft, or even one song that single-handedly sparked a growth spurt. It was the culmination of many beginnings, many first tries, failed bridges, stumped second verses, and flopped choruses that allowed me to emerge an experienced writer (who still sometimes writes failed bridges, stalled second verses, and flopped choruses).

I’ll be the first to admit there is a lot left to learn. I hope there are songs I have not yet written that will blow my other songs out of the water. I know there are ideas I have no yet had because I lack the experiences and the breadth of mind to conceive of them. But, that’s the beauty of an art that evolves as I evolve.

That said, I am sometimes asked what some of the most common pitfalls of new writers are. I’m sure the question is of particular interest so that those asking can evade the pitfalls and skip that step in the process of honing the craft. However, the most common pitfall is not writing frequently enough to understand where the other pitfalls lie, and so it’s a bit of a catch-22.

If you are writing a song a week, or at least a few songs a month, you’ll find yourself moving along a path to becoming better. Some of the scenery you might encounter along the way is generalized lyrics, strings of songs that are beginning to all sound the same, a lack of ideas, complex or difficult melodies that fall short of being memorable, disconnected harmonic progressions, etc. Which combinations of these depend on our musicality, training, our influences, our listening habits, and so on. With practice, we can improve no matter what our foundation.

But one particular pitfall I remember so clearly from my own experience (or lack thereof), had to do with the lyric content of the songs. I wrote the typical themes, love lost, love found, being the angry dump-ee, and being the self-righteous dump-er. As a whole, I suppose the lyrics weren’t particularly bad, but just not particularly memorable. The themes were universal enough, but what was missing was heart. My heart wasn’t in them. As years went by and I started writing for life events and experiences closer to me such as death in the family, or a celebratory song for a wedding, an interesting shift happened. Instead of the songs becoming less accessible because they were so much more specific to my situation, they were becoming more universal because they were specific and purposeful. It didn’t matter that my description of canning peaches as a little girl with my Grandma wasn’t a universal idea. What did matter was that by revealing personal and vulnerable details with the listener I connected us for a moment in time. I was singing about real situations, believable situations.

Now, one could argue that songs about canning peaches with my Grandma aren’t commercial. Indeed, it may not fit the mold. However, while I was writing detailed songs about my own life experiences, I was becoming fluent with a tool. I was involving words and situations I didn’t normally use in love songs, and taking risks with content beyond the ‘we met, we got married, we had a child’ formula. Eventually, that tool became a part of my process without my having to consciously think about its use. That’s the whole point with studying a songwriting process and gaining new tools. The tools themselves are merely vehicles for getting where we want to go. We’ll employ different tools in different songs, depending on what we need to accomplish.

Whatever pitfalls that keep us all from writing what we feel are our greatest songs, all can be conquered or at least minimized by exercising our writing muscle. Write often, and write without hesitation.

If you’ve ever wondered about writing songs for the film and television markets, you might find this article answers a lot of your questions. Mike Todd, a wonderful resource and staff member in ASCAP’s Los Angeles office, shares some conversations he has had with several music supervisors about how to enter this exciting side of the industry. As an independent songwriter, this is just one more avenue for getting your songs out there and over time, generating a decent source of income. Check it out at:

http://www.ascap.com/playback/2002/december/features/songsfilmtv.aspx

For a more detailed explanation of the tools I’m about to share, please refer to Popular Lyric Writing: 10 Steps to Effective Storytelling.

The chorus of a song is for some of us the first section that begins to take shape during the writing process. Whether we start from the title or a theme, focusing the chorus to sum up the main point of the song is essential for any great purpose to form. If the song is worth writing and listening to, the chorus proves why.

In my opinion, what makes choruses so difficult to write is the responsibility that section has in summing up my point. If I make the listener wait too long to get to that main point, or if that point is vague, I stand to lose the attention of my audience completely. The chorus has to capture the essence of what I’m trying to say, and in a way that is immediately accessible to all the ears that have waited a minute or more for that essence.

When I already have a title idea, the first step I take in writing a memorable chorus is positioning that title in the power positions. Depending on the structure, those positions are the first line, the last line, and sometimes the middle of the chorus section. Take a listen to some of your favorite tunes and notice where the title line sits.

Next, I speak the title line out loud, noticing the highs and lows of the language. The stressed syllables falling on stressed beats of the measure allows the lyric to sing as naturally to the melody as it speaks in conversation. This idea of conversational quality is so important to the title line. If the way the title sings upsets the natural flow of the words or syllables, then the listener will be paying more attention to ‘how’ I’m singing rather than ‘what’ I’m singing. The result is my song becomes less believable. For more details on stress placement, refer to Pat Pattison’s course ‘Writing Lyrics to Music.’

After I’ve set my title to a catchy melody and tried out a few power positions, I’ve got to write some of the developmental lyric that falls between those title lines. I like to give some thought as to how I’m going to recolor the title at the end of the chorus. The key line in recoloring is the line before the last repeat of the title. That line holds the responsibility of twisting or adding dimension to the final title line. As an example, here is the chorus from a song of mine “Kaleidoscope” off my CD, Breaking Even.

Power position Not anymore
I’m letting go
I’m not gonna
be a kaleidoscope
I’m saving my life
or what’s left to lose
And taking it back from you
I was afraid
of some kind of change
Power position But not anymore

In order to frame the chorus in the title, I needed to allow the last line title idea to finish off the sentence I started in the second to last line. That new idea of being afraid of a change offered just a bit more insight into my final point, ‘not anymore’.

Once I’ve brainstormed a bit on those power positions and how to close the chorus section with a powerful final idea, I start to think about the internal lines, the developmental ideas in the chorus. Line one introduces the melodic hook I’ve chosen to become the ‘motif’ of my chorus section. Line two repeats that melodic motif, as well as line three. The lengths of my lines reflect that repetition of the melodic motif, and so I’ve used structure to help me decide the phrase lengths. For more information and a listening example, refer to my blog ‘A Short Songwriting Lesson, Part 1 and 2.

With lots of repetition in the melody, a rhyme scheme starts to surface. In your own choruses, a great idea would be to listen to the chorus sections of some of your favorite songs and note the structures. Listen for the rhyme scheme and any melodic repetition. Then, write your own chorus using the same or similar structure.

As for the lyric ideas, I use a process called ‘destination writing’ to develop those internal line ideas. Very simply, I journal about the very theme and title I’m writing about. From this paragraph of conversational ranting, I lift lines and throw them against the melodic hook. I look for any rhyme potentials, like ‘afraid’ and ‘change’ or ‘kaleidoscope’ and ‘letting go’. There are gems hidden within the journaling that make the process of constructing the chorus much easier than if I had plodded along line by line from top to bottom. For those of us who feel more comfortable talking out loud rather than writing our thoughts, try recording yourself talking about the idea or title. Just find a quiet and private place, and let your mind drift as you delve down into the core of what makes that title worth writing. What you’re looking for are those big thought ideas, as if you were standing outside the situation looking in. Try these sentence phrases to get you started:

All that really matters is…
What I really want is…
If only…
If things were different I’d…

Challenge yourself to write a chorus each day. Finding out how you move through your own writing process will come as you write consistently. Try new processes, and continue to refine as you feel what stalls and what encourages your creativity.

Have fun,

Andrea

One really wonderful way to continue honing our craft and staying inspired is to attend a songwriting retreat. If you’ve never been, songwriting retreats, camps, or conferences can open up a world of creativity and networking opportunities that nurture our craft and our spirits.

There are many retreats to choose from, some in the backdrop of white water rafting in the Grand Canyon, some as long weekends portaging in northern Minnesota, and still others as single day experiences at a college or university. There is one retreat in particular that I’d like to talk about, called The Swannanoa Gathering, Contemporary Folk Week, held at Warren Wilson College in Asheville, NC.

Throughout the summer, The Swannanoa Gathering offers several retreats all focusing on a different style of music and culture. The retreat for songwriters that I highly recommend is Contemporary Folk Week, held this July 27th thru August 2nd. Last year I was honored to be an instructor at the camp, and spend 6 glorious days surrounded by songwriters and performers who regularly take one week out of their schedules each year to take part in this event. What makes the retreat so special is the opportunity to connect with other writers outside of the fabric of the industry. During this time, I couldn’t help but to return to the reason why I began writing songs in the first place – because I simply love it.

Participants can choose from several courses offered by esteemed writers and performers in the industry who have been invited to share their insights. During the days you’ll find yourself bulking up on your tools for the craft, while evenings are spent listening and sharing songs in the round with instructors and other participants. And all of it happens among the beautiful green landscapes of a quaint North Carolina town.

If you’re looking for a chance to get away this summer, to focus on your craft just a little more, or rekindle some excitement lost among the busyness of everyday life, take a moment to check out this retreat. It truly was an experience I will remember for a lifetime.

One really wonderful way to continue honing our craft and staying inspired is to attend a songwriting retreat. If you’ve never been, songwriting retreats, camps, or conferences can open up a world of creativity and networking opportunities that nurture our craft and our spirits.
The Swannanoa Gathering: Contemporary Folk Week

On staff this year are: Vance Gilbert, David Wilcox, Peter Mulvey, Kate Campbell, Brooks Williams, Cliff Eberhardt, Anais Mitchell, Kyler England, Siobahn Quinn, Ray Chesna

The first time I heard Thom Schuyler it was at the Bluebird Café. He was strumming along a little ditty in the round with songwriting greats Mike Reid and Don Schlitz. I was watching and listening from the ‘pew’ section of the café, the churchy benches in back where budding songwriters often go to catch a little inspiration without having to pay the minimum drink fee. It was three legends of the business, all of whom had been around since the 70’s and watched the industry cycle through good times and bad. Songs like Kenny Rogers’ ‘The Gambler’, Bonnie Raitt’s ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me,’ and Lacy J. Dalton’s ‘16th Avenue’ sprung from their guitars as fresh and effortlessly as if they’d written them yesterday.

Years later while writing with Thom, I got to experience his mastery first-hand. Aside from being a top-rate songwriter, he is a genuine example of how quality, honesty, and authenticity can be retained over a long career in the industry. His warmth and sincere interest in inspiring those poised at the starting line in their career sums up what I have learned to be at the core of this songwriting legend. Whenever I need to remember why I got into this business, I go back and read these words of one my most revered songsmiths, Thom Schuyler.

Great Songwriters

“The King James Version of the Bible is full of rich imagery and flowery
language that is often difficult to interpret. For instance, a passage from
the Gospel of Matthew reads: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye
of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.” Simply
translated it means that heaven will be full of songwriters. A rough
calculation would lead to the conclusion that fewer than 10% of those people
who have determined to call themselves songwriters will succeed in earning
even a modest living from their work in that field. On the other hand, a
chosen few will be rewarded handsomely for their pursuits. The gulf that
separates these two groups is full of tens of thousands of songs that are too
long, too short, too country, too pop, too complicated, too ordinary, too
hard to sing, too much like another song, not quite right, too good, too sad,
indistinct, unnecessary, ill-conceived and probably lost forever. And, back
to the scriptures for one last tortured image: Why is it then that “many
be called, but few chosen?” Well, I think there are three reasons: Timing,
talent and tenacity. The talent, however, is the key.

Great songwriters, I believe, have remarkable gifts. Clearly there is a
fundamental understanding of and instinct for melody and harmony, rhythm,
chord progression and other musical components that fit together to create
the popular song. And, although I will say little more about these musical
components, I suspect that most folks are initially drawn into a song because
of its melody or beat or the instrumentation in which it was set or because
of a particularly stunning vocal performance. Song structure, that is the
verse, the channel, the bridge, the chorus, etc. is easily studied and
learned. For me it is in the story-telling that the cream rises to the top.
Great songwriters look at the world through two eyes: One is the eye of a
prophet, one is the eye of a child. They listen to the world with two ears:
One is the ear of a poet, one is the ear of a spy. Great songwriters seem to
be, at the same time, standing right in the middle of everything and yet
somehow just outside. They are preoccupied with the subtle twists and turns
of language. They thrive on irony, consider pathos their own, fertile field,
elevate the simple to the sublime, depend a great deal on the word blue and
regret that there are fewer than a half-dozen pure rhymes for love. The work
itself is tedious requiring equal amounts of spontaneity and patience. I
would call it something like mystical labor. Most writers will tell you that
they had very little to do with the best songs that they produced other than
having the wisdom to stay out of their way. Then again, they’ll also tell
you that you’ve never heard the best songs they’ve ever written because they
haven’t been recorded and likely will never be. Great writers write 8 hours a
day, 40 hours a week. Others write only when they are inspired. Some
succeed because they are diligent craftsmen. Others have such deep resources

that great songs seem to just roll out of them. They draw from their own
experiences, reflect on the experiences of others and they also make shit up.
They have earned money from masterpieces and they have earned money from
tripe. They are not messengers, they are not ministers, they are not
counselors; they are songwriters. And, great songwriters, I believe, have
remarkable gifts.

Harlan Howard, Bob McDill, Dave Loggins, Hugh Prestwood, Tony Arata, Don
Schlitz, Bobby Braddock, Dennis Linde, Gary Burr, these are not the best
songwriters in Nashville; they are the best in the world. I use their names
for several reasons. In the 24 years that I have walked the streets of Music
Row these gentlemen have been the most consistent, most diligent, most
commercial, most profound, most enduring, most studied, most appreciated and
most successful of them all. There are more, many more but, these men have
climbed the mountain, they have found their own voices and those voices are
distinct. And, guess how they found their own voices? They worked alone.
Somehow the collective wisdom of Music Row has determined that if we put two
or three or even four songwriters together in a room the result will be a
song that is two or three or four times better when, in reality, the creative
process is diluted, the focus blurred and the result is an innocuous little
ditty that has all the right parts and then some unrecognizable 24 year old
kid from Oklahoma will record it, a promotion team will run it up the charts,
someone, somewhere will hear it on their car radio and think to themselves,
“That sounds just like the last song they played,” and then the song will win
a BMI Award, the songwriters and publishers will make money and so the
publishers will encourage the writers to write more of these ditties, the
promotion team will urge the A&R department to get the kid from Oklahoma to
record more of these kinds of songs because they can run them up the charts,
the guy in the car will start listening to the Top 40 station because, “He
just can’t stand this shit anymore,” the head of the sales department will
tell the label head, “That kid from Oklahoma may be having hits but, he’s not
selling records,” the kid will be dropped, staffers at the label will be let
go, the songwriters’ option will not be picked up, stand-up comedians will
make jokes about country music and, eventually, we will all die. This, in my
opinion, is the unnecessary result of co-writing.

Finally, let me say this about Garth Brooks. There is much spoken and
written about his remarkable accomplishments but, our opinions of him,
positive or otherwise, are irrelevant. The people have voted. He has
reached them. He did it with shrewd, global marketing, with an astonishingly
exciting live show and with a very vital, world-wide partnership with his
record label. When it is all counted up, factored out, studied and analyzed,
may it be remembered that he also did this:

And now I’m glad I didn’t know
the way it all would end
the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could’ve missed the pain
but, I’d have had to miss The Dance

Of all the wonderful opportunities that have been afforded me in this
town, in this business, it fills me with the greatest joy and satisfaction to
be able to say that I am a songwriter.”

Thom Schuyler
http://www.thomschuyler.com/discography.html

I recently ran across an article on HallofFameMagazine.com that describes with beautiful sincerity the difficulties of being a songwriter in the major music markets. D. Vincent Williams is a name you’ll hear often up and down 16th and 17th Ave., Nashville’s Music Row. But he wasn’t always so popular. In fact, as most hit songwriters will admit, there was a time in our all careers we couldn’t get a song recorded to save our life. D. Vincent’s story is a familiar one, to me personally and to my friends and colleagues who have stuck in the industry long enough to find our ‘big break.’ From the outside, it seems that stars are made overnight. But from the inside, we know that the moments we hang in there are what put us in position to experience the turning points in our career. I hope this article renews your fighting spirit, and helps you to appreciate the shining jewels you hold within that just haven’t been discovered yet.

Andrea

http://www.hofmag.com/content/view/305/29/

Nashville, TN is the stomping ground of some of the best songwriters in the world. If there were graduate degrees awarded in songwriting, no doubt Music Row could sprout universities with top-notch professors as quick as major labels lose money. Because of the little big town feel, affordable living, and high quality of craftspeople living and breathing songwriting, I felt Nashville was the obvious place to go to hone my craft. That was 10 years ago now, and in that time, I’ve had the pleasure of learning from some of the most incredible craftspeople I know.

Unless you regularly skim the liner notes of country records, you may not be aware of some of the lesser-publicized names in the industry. To listen only to the singles released on the radio limits our view to those middle-of-the-road tunes that may or may not be representative of the songwriter’s style and I’ll say it - quality. Take some time out for an afternoon, and scour the internet for the song titles and writers that grace the tracks on the album you’re not as familiar with. It may help you to think differently about your own songs, the ones you write inbetween the big hits that seem to come much too infrequently.

There are a few writers I’d like to share with you here, directing you to their myspace pages or elsewhere for some listening fun. Each one has had a single on the radio. These are the folks who are writing 2-3 if not more songs a week, because they love it, and because they know to write a hit, you’ve got to write the hundred songs that came before it.

John Kennedy

Anthony Smith

Bobby Terry

Tony Lane

Barry Dean

Whatever stage you are in as a songwriter, artist, producer, engineer, studio musician, touring musician, or jack of all trades, you’re probably starting to develop a strategy for receiving criticism. If you’re out there working your connections at all, whether it be performing, asking co-writers to write with you, or wading through all the possible ways to promote yourself as an artist, you are inevitably forming your personal perspective of the music industry. The industry itself is wide and multi-faceted, and it’s no wonder two artists can have completely different paths aiming for the same success.

Students in my online classes often ask me ‘what’s my story?’ In other words, we want to know how another writer got where they are so that we can do some of those same activities that may get us where we want to go. The trouble with this thinking is that we are setting out into a completely different landscape with new people and new and different opportunities. The industry itself has changed, but even more importantly, the people we meet along the way will not be the same. The only thing that has ever earned me any success comes down to just one person. That one person was someone who believed in my music. There have been several ‘one persons’ over the years, but I hang my gratitude on those few I had to sift through the haystack to find. Without my searching, I may not have found them. But without their ability to hear me and see some potential in what I do, I wouldn’t have been able to expand my career.

I began this blog by talking about a strategy for criticism, and that very idea of criticism leads me to the thoughts I’ll try to verbalize here. It’s very easy for us ambitious artists, songwriters, and musicians alike to become overwhelmed with the amount of work that can be done to promote ourselves. The seeds we plant today often sprout several months or more often several years later, and that’s a long time to wait for a harvest. Being a creative person, I spend quite a bit of time reflecting, deriving great pleasure from finding new ways to express myself and share myself with others. I am not alone on this creative island, and so I wish also see my expression received by others, affecting others. This is why the idea of writing songs that never leave my living-room is like death to my creative spirit.

With my business so closely linked to my creativity, like most artists I have had to develop a strategy for living and working that nourishes my happiness rather than starving it. As we can see in the entertainment industry, many have not found working strategies. But the strategy itself is not a ‘goal’ that is achieved, but one we consistently have to commit to day after day. The business is constantly changing, and so are my creative goals. While I’m doing all the things I know are good for moving my career forward, such as writing, performing, and networking, I also make decisions about future activities based on the following.

What give me energy?
I’ll be honest, sometimes taking the day off and going to the beach is what I need to do to forward my career. There are times for writing when I don’t feel like it, or going out to shows and networking when I’d rather stay home. But there are also times for slowing down and erasing my agenda. If I lose the energy to believe in what I’m doing, then I lose my effectiveness in getting what I want.

Is what I’m doing busyness or opportunity?
There is a difference, and I constantly assess what projects I may become involved in that are going to lead me somewhere, and ones that are simply filling time or my pocketbook. It’s easy to get caught up in the talk that flies around in the industry. People talk about the next big thing and then that thing flickers flat like a damp firework. The only true question I need to answer is if the project is worth my time. Whether it’s worth my time depends on my specific goals. If my goal for the moment is to make money, then I make choices based on that. If my goal is to invest in a project I believe strongly in, then I make choices based on that. Sometimes it’s a balance, but I always try to make those choices intentionally.

Pretending I’m managing my career as an outsider, how do I view where I am, and what are some steps I would make to further my career?
This idea has been so invaluable to me. Stepping outside of myself and looking at my career from a distance enables me to see more clearly the way things really are. I sometimes have ideas about new opportunities I can make for myself when I’m not tethered to my own hesitations and concerns. I can also extend to myself more acceptance and forgiveness when I see clearly what things are within my control, and the things that are not.

I encourage you to continue practicing what you enjoy at least a little while each day. When weeks go by and we find ourselves constantly focusing on business ideas rather than writing, it can suck the energy and purpose right out of us. Take some time each month to evaluate new goals and aspirations as you unearth new opportunities. Allow yourself the flexibility to change as you grow in your art. In an industry where persistence is the name of the game, keeping our self healthy and happy is the smartest decision we can make.