Career Songwriter

Rhyme is an important structural and sonic element of great lyrics. When used well, rhyme helps us to control the pace of the lyric, where the listener feels conclusion of our thoughts, and distinguishes song sections from each other through contrasting schemes. Great rhyme pairs let the listener stay focused on the content rather than the rhyme. Poor rhyme pairs steal the focus away from the content and result in cliche or contrived lyrics.

A great tool for broadening your scope on rhyme is Pat Pattison’s instruction on the 5 types. (For more in depth study, refer to Lyric Writing: Tools and Strategies and Commercial Songwriting Techniques. Being able to recognize rhymes outside the small circle of perfect rhyme broadens the content available to us as we write. But I’d like to share with you a simple technique for finding rhymes that requires no pre-thought at all. You might find you’ve been doing this all along in one form or another, and the switch to being more intentional with your technique requires very little effort.

Using a style of free-writing called Object Writing or Destination Writing, the search for rhymes can be quite simple. The goal here is to find rhyme pairs within our original thought, not forcing ideas inconsistent with those original thoughts. To begin, do a few minutes of Object Writing or Destination Writing, using your senses to arrive at highly sense-bound language. If you’ve taken Berklee’s online lyric writing courses, or read Pat Pattison’s books or my own book, Popular Lyric Writing, you understand that this style of free writing focuses around taste, touch, sight, sound, smell, and movement.

Now that you’ve got a page or two of sensory focused writing stemming from an object or location, you can look within the sentences for possible rhymes. Taking directly from your original language, you may find many assonance or consonance rhymes that wouldn’t ordinarily occur to you. The rhymes are also directly related to the subject matter of the song that will come from the free-writing itself. Below is an example:

I watched the condensation slip down the sides of the plastic cup, beading on the surface like a snake shedding skin. A green straw slid into the slits on the lid, diving into the icy water and plunging to the bottom where I’ll find sweet relief on a humid September day in LA. The faint sting of chlorine singed my tongue as the roof of my mouth retreated into a numb stare. The hollow tingle of ice cubes floating like life savers on the surface riding the waves as I set the cup down on the sticky metal table. Starbucks in the afternoon, skateboarders clicking over seams in the concrete sidewalk, students with laptops, purple blossoms half decomposed littering the ground…

From this bit of writing I can set the scene for the next song I write. For rhyme and line ideas, I can look within the paragraph and find a few of following:

lid – skin – click – slip – slits – singe
shed – bead
sweet relief – chlorine – green – retreat – seams – bead
plunge – numb – tongue
laptop – sidewalk
roof – ice cubes
faint – LA – day – savers – skates – waves
water – litter

These are some of the rhymes available to me as I start to construct my verse sections of my song. You can use the same technique for chorus writing. This technique and many others are studied in the online course Commercial Songwriting Techniques and companion book Popular Lyric Writing: 10 Steps to Effective Storytelling.

Happy writing,

Andrea

Awhile back, this question was posed and I thought it well worth a blog.

What would you do with a song that stubbornly refuses to offer up a chorus, or am I expecting something too substantial (other than just repeating the song title)? Sometimes, within one or two verses the point is made, and I’d rather be sharp and concise than meandering or boringly repetitive.

If verses are the veins and arteries of a song, the chorus is the heart. It pumps life throughout the whole tune, and when that section is struggling, the whole song struggles too. Without going too deep within the study of choruses in a blog setting, I’d like to offer up some simple ideas that may help our choruses come easier, and serve the song more effectively at the same time.

Let’s first define the function of the chorus. Very simply, the chorus delivers the main message of the song. Sometimes it’s one word, or one phrase, repeated over and over. Sometimes it’s a section as long or longer than the verses with the title set in various power positions such as the first line and last line. Another important idea with the chorus is that it’s singable for the listener. The more singable, the easier it will be to remember.

When a song is stubbornly refusing to offer up a chorus, I think a good first step is to take a look at the verse sections. When our verse sections seem to ‘say it all’, what can be happening is they have overstepped their boundaries as verses. The function of a verse is to set up the scenario for the chorus. If the chorus is the answer, the verse is the question. More clearly stated, the verses tell ‘how’ the story happened, and the chorus tells ‘why’ that story matters. Check to see whether your verses are making big statements that seem to sum up the bigger picture rather than provide details about what happened within the smaller moments leading to that big picture.

One neat technique taught to me by Pat Pattison is flipping the verse sections. The tendency is to write that first verse with kid gloves – gentle and vague instead of specific. Second verses (after the first chorus) often carry that quality of becoming less specific, more centered around the big picture. As writers, it’s often this second verse where we start to become brave enough to give away specifics, and really delve into the details of our story. So in this idea of ‘flipping verses’, we might try using verse two as the real verse one, and verse one as the real verse two. Or, try using verse two as verse one and writing a new verse two for after that first chorus. The main idea here is to make sure we stay specific in verse one so that we don’t tread on that big message chorus material.

Sometimes it’s helpful to write the chorus first. To do this, you might try talking out loud, as if you were in a conversation with a good friend. Sum up the moral of the story, and why this story is important to hear. Think about what you want your listener to walk away knowing. I like to record myself talking, so that I can play it back and copy many of the phrases word for word into my lyrics. Many times it’s my internal editor that tries to convince me the way the words came out is not ‘clever enough’. But for choruses, often the most effective lyrics are those that just say it like it is.

One final thought about choruses – don’t beat around the bush. Use that section to speak boldly and clearly to your listener. If you’re finding this difficult to do, then take a few moments to clarify what you’re really trying to say. If we’re not clear as writers what our main point is, then the listener won’t be either. One main point is stronger than several smaller points. Don’t be afraid to lay it all out on the line. You can always draw the language back later if you need to.

For anyone interested in deeper study and practice writing choruses, I suggest the online course ‘Writing From the Title’. In it, you’ll discover how rhythm, rhyme, structure, and other tools provide excellent brainstorming fuel for that critical song section.

Happy writing,

Andrea Stolpe

Co-writing can be a truly freeing experience. In a good co-writing relationship, we can expect to come upon ideas together we wouldn’t have normally thought of on our own, broaden our lyrical and musical scopes, finish songs faster much less finish them at all, and just plain have a good time. Even co-writing relationships that last only a short time have monumental benefits for each writer. It’s not unusual for two writers to come together and without a previous meeting or relationship, write a truly fantastic song.

As with all working relationships, co-writing requires some special skills on both sides. At some point both parties will need to be flexible, to trust the other’s judgment, and keep a commitment to work on the song until it satisfies both writing partners. Sometimes the pacing of each writer is different, one writer accustomed to tossing around ideas quickly, and another more comfortable with processing an idea internally before offering it up for consideration. There’s no wrong way to write if it yields good material, and so it is with co-writing. What works for one pair may not work at all for another.

But what about those situations in which the relationship goes sour, or disappears into thin air when there is half a song in the balance? Who owns what? What if one party wants to demo the song and another doesn’t? Who pays for the demo? What if you’re not proud of the song, but your co-writer is playing it everywhere for everyone with your name plastered all over it?

There may not be rules, but there are some good guidelines of conduct we can apply to these situations. The first guideline is to sit down with your co-writer before beginning to write and discuss how you both wish to divide up the song. Whether you’re a lyricist and don’t write any music, or both you and your co-writer are both chipping away at lyric and music ideas at the same time, a very common split is 50/50. That means that even if you’re writing with an artist, and that artist simply says ‘yes, I like that’ or ‘no I don’t like that,’ the split is still 50/50. The reasoning here is that over time, all of us are more or less helpful in coming up with song material during a writing session. What goes around comes around, and to count words or count notes that belong to each writer just complicates things and adds unnecessary stress to the relationship.

It’s not uncommon for the writers to lose steam mid-way through the song, and the tune sits unfinished for months on end. If the idea is really as good as you thought it was when you started it, you’ll know after hearing it again for the first time. If you’re bound and determined to finish a tune and your cowriter is MIA, you don’t have to scrap the tune. What I’ve done in the past is let my co-writer know through an email and a phone message that I’d like to finish the tune, and to please let me know when is convenient to get together. If I get no response, I leave another message and email, this time with a deadline after which I will finish the song on my own if he/she doesn’t respond. Now, if we’ve signed a split sheet agreeing to a 50/50 split, then that agreement still stands. If no agreement was signed, I let my co-writer know that I plan on finishing the song as 50/50 (if I intend on keeping what we wrote together). If I want to scratch the whole tune, keeping the title I brought into the co-writing session, for example, then I let my co-writer know that is what I intend to do. His/her lack of communication is an acceptance of the terms.

When it comes to demoing, it gets a little tricky. I don’t expect a co-writer to chip in 50% of the cost of the demo for a song he/she doesn’t believe in. So if I feel very strongly that the tune is worth recording, I’ve got to eat those initial costs myself. Certainly, if the song gets placed and makes money, I can bring half those initial costs up with my co-writer again. But one word of warning – if your co-writer isn’t totally psyched with the song, consider why. Is the song really as strong as you think it is? Is there is a disconnect in how you view the direction of the lyric or the music, and you need to record a simple rough piano/vocal or guitar/vocal to get your thoughts across clearly? It can sometimes be easy to ride on the excitement of a collaboration and start to believe a song is better than it actually is. Nothing heals this better than time. Give it a few months, and see how the song hits you as you listen more objectively. If either writer is bound by a publishing contract, then the publisher should be involved in the decision of whether to demo the song. After all, if the publisher believes in the song enough to invest a little demo money, it suggests the publisher believes the song is worth pitching. If the publisher doesn’t think the song is marketable, then the writers may decide it’s a better idea to go back to the writing room and work up a song everyone can stand behind.

Finally, if your co-writer thinks the world of the tune you wrote together but you’re on the fence, don’t sweat it. If you’re not keen on contributing to demo costs, suggest a simple piano/vocal demo or guitar/vocal demo instead. Explain that you like to write several songs before taking them all into consideration for which are the top tunes to be demoed. If the writer is so pleased with the tune that he/she is constantly playing it for folks, don’t sweat that either. If you’ve got stronger songs, that reputation will precede you, so you simply stay the course striving for better tunes, a bigger network, and more opportunities. Other songwriters understand we are the sum of our body of work, not just one song. One song can as easily be chalked up to serendipity as it can be the result of consistent, hard work. I’m thankful for those songs that fall out without much effort, but grateful for those that come from my desire to create a specific and intentional experience.

Happy writing,

Andrea Stolpe

When I tell people that I teach songwriting courses for Berkleemusic.com, it always inspires an interesting conversation. The first question usually is, ‘can songwriting be taught?’ followed closely by ‘how can one teach songwriting online?’

Having been on both sides of the fence with a music degree from the brick and mortar college and now teaching online, I’ve had the benefit of seeing the inner workings of each. I’d like to try to outline some of their value, and talk about which path a songwriter desiring a career in the industry might follow.

Music is often viewed as an elusive art, as something that speaks to the soul rather than something understood by the mind. My experience as a songwriter in the commercial music industry has taught me that whether I enjoy it or not, at some point, my brains do need to be involved. From understanding my own strengths and weaknesses as a writer, taking feedback from my publisher and applying those suggestions, pitching to specific artists looking for songs, and expanding my business network through co-writing and other opportunities, I realized early on that I would never stop learning. I learned from co-writers how to craft songs, from publishers how to rewrite and rewrite again, and from meetings with label executives where my own perspective on the pitchability of my songs drifted from the industry’s perspective. Many of these opportunities to learn were available to me because I had a foundation of tools for the craft that I had gained through my music degree.

This foundation included basic tools and strategies for songwriting, the very same tools taught in Berkleemusic.com’s online songwriting program. Integral to any songwriter wanting to write better songs is consistent practice. With consistent practice comes greater awareness of our own strengths and weaknesses, and how we use or don’t use elements that are effective in songs across all genres. With this awareness comes the ability to control these elements, and that means better songs more of the time.

What I received as part of my music degree was personal, weekly feedback on my writing from an experienced writer. I also received peer feedback, and had the opportunity to give feedback as well. I began to grow the confidence I’d need to start promoting my own music in the field. I had the opportunity to visit my instructor during a weekly office hour to discuss any questions I had regarding my writing, my goals, and my future. I attended the brick and mortar school because I wanted a true 4-year college experience, and that is what I got.

Comparing this brick and mortar experience with an online experience, we find similar elements and some additional perks. We have the opportunity to play our songs for peers and experienced instructors for feedback. We have weekly chat hours where a relationship with these peers and instructors can be built. What’s more, we have daily writing assignments instead of weekly assignments, flexibility to complete the assignments when it is convenient throughout the day, and an opportunity to network with others with similar goals. We can even find co-writers and support groups to keep us writing and pursuing our art, whether that be as a paid writer or as a hobbyist looking for greater fulfillment through the process of creativity. Its drawback is also its benefit – those looking for a 4-year college experience won’t find it online. What they will find is a supportive, diverse community and quality education they can access from the comfort of their own livingroom. There is no need to uproot our family or our jobs, and the financial commitment is light enough to help us take one step at a time towards our songwriting goals.

If you’re on the fence about whether to take the plunge and enroll in an online songwriting course, take a few minutes and talk with an enrollment adviser. Discuss your concerns openly and gather more information to make an informed decision. Many aspiring artists and writers are surprised at how easy it is to get involved, and how far-reaching are the benefits.

A few courses I recommend as you’re getting started:

Lyric Writing:
Tools and Strategies
Writing From the Title

Music and Lyric:
Commercial Songwriting Techniques
Songwriting Workshop: Melody
Songwriting Workshop: Harmony

Andrea Stolpe

When I tell people that I teach songwriting courses for Berkleemusic.com, it always inspires an interesting conversation. The first question usually is, ‘can songwriting be taught?’ followed closely by ‘how can one teach songwriting online?’

Having been on both sides of the fence with a music degree from the brick and mortar college and now teaching online, I’ve had the benefit of seeing the inner workings of each. I’d like to try to outline some of their value, and talk about which path a songwriter desiring a career in the industry might follow.

Music is often viewed as an elusive art, as something that speaks to the soul rather than something understood by the mind. My experience as a songwriter in the commercial music industry has taught me that whether I enjoy it or not, at some point, my brains do need to be involved. From understanding my own strengths and weaknesses as a writer, taking feedback from my publisher and applying those suggestions, pitching to specific artists looking for songs, and expanding my business network through co-writing and other opportunities, I realized early on that I would never stop learning. I learned from co-writers how to craft songs, from publishers how to rewrite and rewrite again, and from meetings with label executives where my own perspective on the pitchability of my songs drifted from the industry’s perspective. Many of these opportunities to learn were available to me because I had a foundation of tools for the craft that I had gained through my music degree.

This foundation included basic tools and strategies for songwriting, the very same tools taught in Berkleemusic.com’s online songwriting program. Integral to any songwriter wanting to write better songs is consistent practice. With consistent practice comes greater awareness of our own strengths and weaknesses, and how we use or don’t use elements that are effective in songs across all genres. With this awareness comes the ability to control these elements, and that means better songs more of the time.

What I received as part of my music degree was personal, weekly feedback on my writing from an experienced writer. I also received peer feedback, and had the opportunity to give feedback as well. I began to grow the confidence I’d need to start promoting my own music in the field. I had the opportunity to visit my instructor during a weekly office hour to discuss any questions I had regarding my writing, my goals, and my future. I attended the brick and mortar school because I wanted a true 4-year college experience, and that is what I got.

Comparing this brick and mortar experience with an online experience, we find similar elements and some additional perks. We have the opportunity to play our songs for peers and experienced instructors for feedback. We have weekly chat hours where a relationship with these peers and instructors can be built. What’s more, we have daily writing assignments instead of weekly assignments, flexibility to complete the assignments when it is convenient throughout the day, and an opportunity to network with others with similar goals. We can even find co-writers and support groups to keep us writing and pursuing our art, whether that be as a paid writer or as a hobbyist looking for greater fulfillment through the process of creativity. Its drawback is also its benefit – those looking for a 4-year college experience won’t find it online. What they will find is a supportive, diverse community and quality education they can access from the comfort of their own livingroom. There is no need to uproot our family or our jobs, and the financial commitment is light enough to help us take one step at a time towards our songwriting goals.

If you’re on the fence about whether to take the plunge and enroll in an online songwriting course, take a few minutes and talk with an enrollment adviser. Discuss your concerns openly and gather more information to make an informed decision. Many aspiring artists and writers are surprised at how easy it is to get involved, and how far-reaching are the benefits.

A few courses I recommend as you’re getting started:

Lyric Writing:
Tools and Strategies
Writing From the Title

Music and Lyric:
Commercial Songwriting Techniques
Songwriting Workshop: Melody
Songwriting Workshop: Harmony

Andrea Stolpe

I am a new songwriter (I am 17 and have been doing it for a little under a year) Do you have any tips for “turning off the editor “. I have found that I am too frustrated to write because I am way too hard on myself. How do I write material that I will enjoy playing?

For many of us, we write songs because we enjoy the art of writing, singing, playing, performing, or simply fooling around on an instrument and pairing words with chords to express ourselves. I can remember a time when just listening to music I enjoyed was enough to vault me into a new dimension of satisfaction and joy. Sometimes music was my escape from a difficult environment, a comfort, and a healer in good times and bad.

I remember writing my first song when I was in my teens. I remember the feeling of being quite impressed with myself, very proud of the fact I could construct a verse and a chorus that was as beautiful (to my ears) as the verses and choruses I loved on the radio. I approached the song with a certain knowing, though I was not educated in any of the tools and strategies I now use to write tunes. I knew what I liked, and I knew what I thought was beautiful. And that was enough for me to take pride in what I had created.

Now when I write songs, I can very easily slip into the worry that what I’m writing isn’t good enough, marketable enough, cool, slick, dumbed-down (for certain markets), or smart enough (for other markets). I have a clear idea of where I’d like the song to go, like an insecure parent hoping to find my own success in the accomplishments of my ‘children.’ If I’m not successful at finding that song a home on a big record somewhere, I have obviously failed at my job.

This kind of thinking will eventually always lead to burn-out. When my writing becomes something I expect will serve and love me instead of me serving and loving my writing, it becomes a reminder of all I am failing to accomplish. 17 years old is much too young to come to this place, but it’s certainly a sad place for us to be at any age.

There is a fantastic book I highly recommend on the subject of allowing ourselves to love our art of expression again. Written by Kenny Werner, the book with included CD is called Effortless Mastery. Kenny is a highly regarded jazz musician, whose love for playing extends beyond almost anyone I know in the industry. But it wasn’t always that way. So to begin your process of softening your opinions of yourself and your art, I recommend starting with that book.

We all go through periods where writing is difficult. Maybe the ideas don’t come easy; maybe we’re in a phase where nothing sounds original. When I find myself in that place, I make special effort to simply keep writing, giving myself permission to write what I doubt is ‘good’ songwriting. I write 10 poor songs, full of clichés, embodying some of my most boring ideas. I start object writing or destination writing, and do it for 10 minutes every day. I sit down for a week and only write melodic motifs, record them, and file them away on my computer for a rainy day. I allow myself to let go of what drives me to critique my songs so harshly – even if it’s just for 5 minutes while I write out some lyrics.

Consider that those you are writing for need only to be reached at soul-level, to believe that what you are saying in your songs is true and real. I’ll be trying to do the same every day, whether it’s for 10 minutes, or 2 hours.

Good luck – and get that book!

Andrea Stolpe

I was recently asked the question, ‘how financially stable is being a songwriter?’ As the inquirer suspected, the answer is dependent upon many factors. But just in case your daydreams about being a songwriter involve large bags of cash, I thought it might be interesting to talk about the realities of the career. Don’t get me wrong – some realities do involve bags of cash, but it’s also true that most don’t. All in all, songwriting is something that if you don’t love the process, you probably won’t see the career through to the end of the rainbow. If you do love the process, however, then the risks are always going to be worth it.

One of the ways in which songwriting can be lucrative is that a song may be recorded over and over, generating money over the course of our entire career. When this happens, we’re receiving royalties years down the line for just 3 hours or 3 days of writing – depending on how long it takes you to finish a tune. Like any career, the bulk of the hard work is done up front. After the time invested in networking and writing a significant catalog of songs, we can become known amongst circles looking for the music we create, thus making it easier to get placements, etc. We also improve our writing skills and write better songs, meet writing partners we gel better with, etc. But there is no guarantee that after getting some placements we’ll continue to get placements. I’ve known hit songwriters of the past to use pen names while pitching their material now, just to avoid any assumptions made by producers and A&R about the songs they’re writing. It’s an unfortunate reality that what is ‘new’ is viewed as hot, and whatever is ‘old’ is, well, old.

The point I’m trying to make, though rather clumsily, is that our careers as songwriters can drag, pick up again, and then slow down again to a barely audible hum. Because we never know when our next song will be picked up, when we’re going to meet someone who will be instrumental in our career, or how the industry will change around us, it’s very difficult to determine whether all our efforts will pay off like we hope. In Nashville, for example, it’s common for writers to get signed, get dropped, and get signed again to another company awhile later. During those unsigned months, our job remains the same – to continue writing the best songs we can write and make ends meet until the next gig. For performing artists and independents alike, the job description doesn’t change.

On the upside, it is entirely possible that you as a songwriter find yourself in a situation that is somewhat stable for a period of time. That might be a publishing deal, or it might be writing as part of a team working on projects for pay. Again, it all comes down to working the opportunities you see before you, and letting them carry you to broader and broader circles.

If we’re looking for something stable, perhaps we should look elsewhere than songwriting. But, if we’re truly inspired to create songs, then no matter how we make our money we’ll find a way to put pen to paper and pick to guitar.

Good luck –

Andrea

The group I’ve helped develop has been together for a couple of years now and has been financed by a production studio in New York. The music is getting recognized by many important connects, but the image and sound of the group is not as successful. Since we have an abundance of songs, we were looking into getting some of them published. How do we go about that? Also, is there any way to apply for a staff writing deal at a major music publisher?

This is a question I received in response to a previous blog, ‘Becoming A Staff Writer,’ and I’d like to share with you a few of my thoughts in the hopes it’s helpful to others as well.

Here is a unique situation where the songs of a group are getting recognized beyond the image or sound of the group. Typically, groups are formed specifically for their image and niche, rather than because of the quality of the songs. So, if your songs are getting attention, consider that a serious strong-point. Working out a unique image and brand of the group can be significantly easier when the songs are already taking shape.

The question here is about how to promote the group as writers and not only as artists. Becoming published writers means that the writers are represented by a company who is willing to promote their songs to industry opportunities. Publishing companies depend on their writers to deliver songs appropriate for their pitching needs. So, finding out which publishers are right for you takes a clear sense of what kind of songs you write and what niche those songs could be marketed within. Pursuing those important connections that the group is already accessing is a perfect step in finding interested publishers. Use those connections, asking them specifically for what you need. There’s no shame in letting your contacts know you’re interested in finding a publisher who believes in the songs of the group. Your contacts know you’re looking for opportunities, but getting specific about what kind can jog their minds and bring their own contacts to the surface they may not have ordinarily thought of.

Music publishers are tapped into current opportunities. They are in the know about what artists are looking for songs, what kinds of songs they’re looking for, and have some power to connect writers with artists interested in co-writing. Because of this function, we writers often mistake a publishing deal for the golden ticket rather than a step along the way to getting our songs recorded. Publishers can indeed broaden our connections significantly, but it is always the responsibility of the writer to continue networking and getting involved in promising opportunities.

You may find my blog on publishing relevant here ‘Publishing Your Own Songs.’ Getting a deal does not mean getting songs recorded or placed. It simply means a publisher is willing to invest in your career, providing you a little time and money to write material they may pitch and get placed in months and years to come. There are many ways you can go about finding music publishers. The best ways are through personal referrals and personal relationships. Unless you are already getting your songs placed on your own, in which case you may not need a publisher, you are going to be a significant risk for the publisher that signs you. So, a publisher needs to get to know you first, watch your writing over time to make sure you’re consistently prolific, and get an idea how you will fit into the company of writers already signed.

Consider also the Film/TV market. A good additional income, the result here is exposure, and so you’ll want to pinpoint those music supervisors who need the kind of music you create. Think of the shows that use the kind of music you make. Watch the credits for the music editor and supervisors and do some research on the internet to find contact information, etc. The more clearly you understand what they’re looking for, the more you can become an asset to those placing the songs. If you can serve up your music hassle-free without a lot of paperwork or clearance, you’ll find doors opening up here as they are for many independent artists. One issue you may consider is that if you retain your own publishing, it is easier for music supervisors to work with you. All the clearance they need to place the song they can get from you, rather than a large company demanding significant time and money to get the placement rolling.

Keep broadening your circle of contacts, and learning about what a publishing deal entails. Many writers who are successful in publishing deals have the ability to change colors like a chameleon, and enjoy doing so. Writing for others, especially when we don’t particularly enjoy the music we’re collaborating on, requires some unique skills. Writers who are also artists sometimes find these challenges tough, and not worth the effort when considering their final goals of pursuing their own artist careers. Much of the songs we write as staff writers don’t make it out of the dusty catalog shelves in the basement of the publishing company, simply because there are so many songs out there vying for the same placements. You’ve got to believe wholeheartedly in what you’re trying to accomplish. The goal is not to get signed, but to have an influential and lasting career doing what you do best and enjoy in times when the only reward is the music itself.

Andrea Stolpe

…I love the part of your book where you said the greater the detail, the less time has passed. I think we live moment to moment, so it makes sense songs should too.
But one thing that came to mind is, once you have zeroed in on a particular moment with detail, where do you go from there? Do you string together different moments with each verse, or do you keep defining the same detailed moment throughout?

This is a great question pertaining to the craft of writing with external or ‘showing’ language as opposed to internal or ‘telling’ language. When we draw a listener into a specific moment, we’re drawing a picture in which we can evoke certain emotions. Those emotions draw their importance from the scene we’ve set, and so the question is how to craft the song around that scene to make our main message truly believable and powerful. I’d like to show you how to use a few techniques from my book Popular Lyric Writing: 10 Steps to Effective Storytelling, and Commercial Songwriting Techniques, the online www.berkleemusic.com course, to apply this kind of imagery to your own songs.

I’m going to give you an overview of the process rather than outline each step.
First, to use imagery effectively we need to be aware of what kind of mood we’re trying to create. In other words, if we’re trying to evoke compassion and tears in the heart of our listener, we wouldn’t begin by describing a beautiful sunny summer day. Our details determine the feelings our listener will experience. Let me work with an example to pick this apart.

You look around, the room’s a mess
with dirty plates and empty cans
you spend your days just flipping channels
round and round

This is the first verse of a song I was working on awhile ago. Consider the details I’ve used here and what mood they create. The way I began writing this verse, and the way I begin writing many of my songs, is by choosing a location. When I’ve chosen that location, I begin to describe the things I see around me. In the case of this song, I may see shades pulled, morning light slanting in thin strips across the stained carpet of a ratty one-bedroom in LA. I see dirty dishes and a frayed couch sitting 5 ft. from a dated TV, I smell stale air and hear the drone of the neighbors through card-board thin walls. These details are simply drawing the picture so that my listener can feel what I feel instead of just take my word for it. When I go to write the actual verse, I simply choose the details that I want to include. Here, those details were, ‘room’s a mess’, ‘dirty plates’, ‘empty cans’, ‘flipping channels round and round’, which were all part of my original Destination Writing. (For more on Destination Writing, see Popular Lyric Writing: 10 Steps to Effective Storytelling).

Once we’ve set the scene, our internal ‘telling’ language or ‘thoughts and feelings’, can make a bigger impact. The listener has context in which to feel what we feel instead of just being told how to feel. Here is verse two, in which I use much more internal thoughts and feelings:

She is gone and it’s a fact
you saw the truth a long time back
this was one that wouldn’t last…but

Now I’ve come to the chorus section. Here, my chorus starts as a pick-up to beat one, and so that fills in that missing fourth line of verse two where you may have noticed verse one and verse two do not match. Choruses are typically thoughts and feelings instead of images. The reason is that with imagery, we’re describing a moment in time rather than commenting on the big picture. Choruses describe the big picture, giving the whole song purpose:

Wasn’t she worth it
wasn’t she wonderful
the heaven and the hell that she was cursed with
But wasn’t it brilliant
just for a moment you felt
everything alive that you could hurt with
Wasn’t she worth it
now that the worst is almost done

Now we’re at that point in the song where we’ve got to figure out how to keep our listener interested. The dreaded second verse (verse after the first chorus and in this case, my third verse) can be tricky. But, when we think in terms of ‘showing’ details, we need only choose another location to get started again. Since my first verse was set in an apartment or room, I figured that to return to describing that room would be slightly redundant. So, I decided to move my main character outside. Notice how the ‘moment’ is not as specific here. Apart from the first line, my details are more broad, commenting on a bigger moment.

You walk the streets but in your mind
you turn the pages back in time
and all the places seem to fade like
another lifetime

But such a sweet and perfect lie
and you believed it for awhile
she broke you down and built you higher…but

I could have described more of what this person sees as he walks the streets. Maybe there is a specific place that captures a memory. Those ideas would be effective as well in creating an interesting verse. But here, I decided to stay on the surface of the image. The important idea to notice is that we can stay more surface for later verses as long as our first verse sets the stage. All of what we think and feel will be understood in the context of the initial scene.

When we’re writing with imagery, we can keep coming back to specific moments to generate song material. I suggest trying to get specific as often as possible, considering the location and then describing taste, touch, sight, smell, sound, and movement. Don’t be afraid of becoming too detailed. As you rewrite, it will be much easier to pull back into generic thoughts and feelings than to become more detailed where you’ve only skimmed the surface. Finding that balance between imagery and thoughts/feelings takes some skill that you’ll develop over time working with these tools. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to see how many ideas you have, and how you can capture the listener’s attention with more intensity as you work imagery into your songs.

Happy writing,
Andrea

If you are Object Writing or Destination Writing each day, you’re undoubtedly coming up with lots of material you can turn into songs. Many times we think we’ve got to start with a theme or topic clearly outlined to get a good tune. But, I’d like to show you how you might burst open another pot of ideas just by pulling interesting words and collisions out of thin air.

Whether or not we have a theme, we can start by choosing an ‘object’ to be the center of our song. I might look around the room and make a list of objects I see, like this:

Chimney
Wicker chair
Loveseat
Fax machine
Keys
Painting

Next, I’ll describe those objects in more detail with some taste, touch, sight, sound, smell, or movement ideas:

Chimney: puffs of smoke, exhaust, burning, fireproof, clogged, cords of wood, soot, ashes, brick, mortar

Wicker chair: Lacquer, hard, weave, cushion, pattern, frayed ends, peaceful, summer

Loveseat: Soft, worn in, cushion, bright pillows, sagging, beige, velvety, lived on, inviting, stuffing bursting

Fax Machine: buzz and beep, signal, flashing light, out of paper, cable, call, tray, jam, frustration, test

Keys: clink, hang, lost, sawed edges, unlock, secure, jingle

Painting: vivid color, texture, paint, brushstroke, curve, impression, wavy, outline, frame, gold, black, reflection, fine art

Now that I’ve got short lists of some of the characteristics of each object, I can draw some comparisons. I’m going to choose a few universal song themes and throw them against my nouns. Some universal themes we all know are finding love, losing love, longing for love, moving on, taking on the future with optimism, etc. So I’ll start with the first:

How is love like a chimney? In what ways does love burn, turn to ash, feel like brick and mortar, send up smoke signals, leave a layer of soot? We’re not talking literally here, of course, but metaphorically. This love could rage like kindling, could burn out and leave nothing but wisps of ash, the memory of it caked like thick soot, or block me in like brick and mortar.

How is love like a wicker chair? This love is woven tight, is weathered and hard from years of wear and tear, frayed on the edges. Or, it’s playful like a summer vacation, comfortable, peaceful and unassuming.

How is love like a fax machine? What kind of relationship runs out of paper when you need it most? How about has trouble connecting, requires a progress report, rings but there’s no-one on the other line, gets jammed?

The trick here is to let your imagination run, lengthening your list of characteristics of your noun and tossing each against the thematic idea. Though you may start with the same theme each time, such as love, you’ll get quite different song ideas depending on the noun you choose.

We can use this technique to brainstorm our song beginnings, or we can choose to return to metaphor to liven up a second verse, for example. After the first chorus, we move back into verse territory, and metaphor can provide excellent content that allows the story to progress while adding weight and purpose to the story. Just be careful to choose metaphor that stays relevant to the mood of the song. In other words, keep your metaphors consistent. We’re painting with a specific palette of color when we’re using metaphor, and changing that palette midway through the song can feel like switching out our main character for somebody else. If you begin with a wicker chair, consider the mood you’re creating. Then consider what other objects also reflect that same mood. If ‘wicker chair’ symbolizes comfort and hope, I may disrupt that mood if I later use ‘sleek business suit’ as a metaphor. Instead, I can move to a metaphor in which ‘wicker chair’ still has context, such as ‘leather-bound book,’ or ‘tea cup.’ Give it a try next time you’re searching for that unique perspective making your universal theme songs different from any other.

Happy writing,
Andrea