WELCOME...

This blog is the outgrowth of a songwriting workshop I conducted at the 2006 "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival in Tillamook, Oregon. It presumes that after 30-odd years of writing and playing music, I might have something to contribute that others might take advantage of. If not, it may be at least a record of an entertaining journey, and a list of mistakes others may be able to avoid repeating. This blog is intended to be updated weekly. In addition to discussions about WRITING, it will discuss PROMOTION--perhaps the biggest challenge for a writer today--as well as provide UPDATES on continuing PROJECTS, dates and venues for CONCERTS as they happen, how and where to get THE LATEST CD, the LINKS to sites where LATEST SONGS are posted, and a way to E-MAIL ME if you've a mind to. Not all these features will show up right away. Like songwriting itself, this is a work in progress. What isn't here now will be here eventually. Thank you for your interest and your support.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

ANATOMY OF A WRITING...

I was asked on another writers' board, "How do you write a song?" The quick answer is every one's different. Some just pop out fully-grown, so to speak, and others take more tweaking with structure, and how words sound when they're strung together.

The long answer? Well, I just finished a song. Let me see if I can describe what happened.

First, there was music. There is always music, because I have what amounts to a gigantic 8-track player running in my head all the time. I refer to it as The Soundtrack From God. It's been playing a lot of blues and old-time rock 'n' roll lately, because I got asked last week to contribute lead guitar tracks to two online collaborations that were being recorded, one a Chicago blues, the other progressive rock (and something way outside my usual "box"). One of the guys involved in the blues collab had talked about wanting me to write lyrics for their next one, and I'm obviously interested--words are my strength, not my guitar playing.

And then two bullfrogs moved into the back yard. Actually, one moved into the neighbors' yard, so they're separated by a tall fence. And they call to each other all night. It's almost sweet. ("Touching" is probably a better word for it. Bullfrogs are *not* sweet.) It's the classic Pyramus and Thisbe legend popularized by Shakespeare--the lovers forced to communicate through a chink in the wall that separates them. Only with bullfrogs. And there's the lyric.

A blues, of course, with a good rock 'n' roll beat, because that was the music that was playing. And what these amphibian kids were croaking at each other just *had* to be the blues. It was originally going to be just a short and silly thing, that the abovementioned bluesmen could play off of and do lots of lead breaks to, but the song developed a life of its own (they sometimes do that), and grew from two short verses into something that had three verses (each with an extra line, so it isn't *quite* a 12-bar blues), plus a bridge. (It didn't have a chorus, just a tag line that was also the hook.) And when I recorded it, the whole thing, with just a one-verse lead break, came in at almost 4 minutes.

I both worry and don't worry about structure as I'm assembling the pieces of the song in my head. As a confirmed anarchist, I pay attention to rules when it suits me; I'm concerned primarily that when I'm done, what I've produced is a complete thought (so the listener can say, "Yup--I guess that's about all you can say about *that*"), and that it come in between 3-1/2 and 5 minutes.

(3-1/2 to 5 minutes? Both limits are arbitrary, really. 3-1/2 minutes used to be the maximum length you could fit on a 45-rpm single, and 5 minutes is still the maximum limit for submissions to a lot of song contests. I use it for convenience more than anything else. If a song comes in between 3-1/2 and 5 minutes with a lead break, I know it will be okay when I perform it solo, without a lead break. If it's going to be over 5 minutes with a lead, then I will probably not perform it with a lead. I've violated that limit only 3 times over the course of more than 30 songs, and done it only after a lot of thought. But the time limit ties into the "complete thought" rule. If I can't express a complete thought within that timeframe, then I shouldn't be doing it–or I should re-do it. It enforces an economy and preciseness with words that I think is important.)

My thinking is geared to the song being performed--by me, either solo or with a band--so I want to ensure it's both possible and easy to do that. I'll build in deliberate mnemonic tricks ('cause when I perform, I will not have any music on stage)--like having a word in a specific place sound a certain way so it will rhyme with a word Over There and remind me of what I'm supposed to sing Over There--and I'll build in spots where I can catch my breath without being obvious about it, and places where I can emphasize words, phrases, or even inflections I want people to notice. In this case, because I wanted to use the frogs as my backup singers (because they were so cute, and besides, they sound better'n me), I needed to keep the speed of the song at about what a bullfrog croaks at--which is 120 BPM, by the way.

Before I recorded anything, though, I did other things. It is my normal practice not to write anything down until it's done; however, they let me run a kind of stream-of-consciousness thread over on the MusesK.com board where I kinda thought everything through out loud (I'd done that with another song, previously) and invited people to chime in with suggestions (which they pretty much didn't). When the lyrics were in a form I was satisfied with (and I am hard to satisfy), they were vetted to the folks on MusesK and Just Plain Folks--and I did make one change based on the suggestions I got. *Then* I recorded it.

I hadn't played it on the guitar before then--just listened to the melody in my head. I was pretty sure when I played it on the guitar, it was going to come out country music, because they always do, and I was right. So it's a country blues instead of rock 'n' roll. A friend of mine in Texas has it right now, and she may add a *real* lead guitar, bass, and drums to it, and it may yet sound more rock 'n' roll--I don't know. I played it with our Friday Night Group, which was its first test-out on a live audience (and also its first playing with a Real Band). If the band and audience like it, to the point where they're requesting it again, then (and only then) it's a "keeper," and will become part of the Setlist and maybe go on the next CD.

Oh, and it doesn't have a title per se. I did give it a "working title," because I had to call it something, but I usually let the *audience* be the determinent of the title. When I play it, I won't tell 'em what it's called--I'll wait and see what *they* call it when (if) they request the song again. *That* will be the title. Those folks are much better at naming things than I am, so I let 'em.

And that--kinda lengthy--is The Story. Hope 'twas helpful.

Monday, April 23, 2007

THE WEEK THAT WAS...

It was a rather busy week... Got tapped twice to be a GUITARIST, of all things, recording a lead track to a blues collaboration and a progressive rock collaboration; apparently both parties are happy with the product. And got to write music to and record (guitar, vocal, and plinks) someone else's lyrics, too–"Global Warming Sandwich," by Gem Watson, who recorded bass, drums, and a pedal-steel sounding lead that gives the song a very 1940s country-swing sound. And it's getting a lot of attention, too.

The CONTEST ENTRIES are all done. "Oil in the Cornfield," which will go to the Woody Guthrie Song Contest, was finished this week, with piano and backup vocals by Vikki "Hummingbird" Flawith and bass, drums, Telecaster lead and mix by Vic "Mississippi Spud" Bonner. "Rotten Candy" has been sent to American Idol, which is supposed to announce their top 20 finalists May 2. "Prehistoric Roadkill" is done, vetted in the usual places, and recorded and posted; it will be "entered" by being performed live at the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival July 4.

And "Turn Your Radio On," recorded with members of the Friday Night Group, had already been sent off to Goodnight Kiss Music. (I did hear back from them, and the song was rejected, but not for the reason expected–turns out the song is still under copyright, by the author's family. There's time to submit another–deadline's been extended to May 31.)

STILL TO DO: "Tugga Paw," the Swedish country-music song, got its first base recording of rhythm guitar, but I'll probably want to re-do it, tweaking the dead space between lines a bit. The chord progression, alas, is the same as both "Prehistoric Roadkill" and "The Six-Legged Polka," and I'll have to play with the melody to make sure it comes out different. "The Reincarnation Song" and "Lord, Let Her Feet Be Real, Real Small" are still looking for more words. And I got some lyrics in the e-mail that the author would like put to music.

The LESSON in all this? (There's always a lesson, remember.) VERSATILITY is one way to put it: I'm already typecast enough as somebody who writes very traditional-format country songs (and dead-animal songs to boot); I want to demonstrate that I can indeed do other things–sing, write music, play lead guitar, &c.–well enough so I get asked to do those things for other people. It's also NETWORKING–the mutual back-scratching that seems to be essential in the music business. I've got a small network now of people I can call on when I need help with something (like the "Oil in the Cornfield" recording mentioned above). That network exists because I've been able and willing to help them.

Friday, April 13, 2007

THREE (NO, FOUR) CONTESTS...

Songs have gone out this month to two contests, will go out to a third, and are ready to go out to a fourth. I had planned on entering only two song contests this year, but the other two opportunities were too good to resist. In order of getting finished, they are:

GOODNIGHT KISS MUSIC: These are the folks who wanted the "traditional Gospel song" for a "theme" album. They got "Turn Your Radio On," recorded by me and four other members of the Friday Night Group at Gary Way's little studio in Bay City. I don't think the product was very good (and told the publisher so), but sent it off anyway. One of the insights from the exercise is that the Group needs to be recorded playing live; none of thjem are comfortable enough in a studio setting to effectively "let loose."

WHEELER COUNTY BLUEGRASS FESTIVAL: They award a prize every July 4 for the best song about Fossil, Oregon, the little town where the Festival is held. I'd planned on entering this one, because "entering" means performing the song live, and I think I do well in live performance situations. They got "Prehistoric Roadkill," which is about FOSSILS rather than Fossil (I couldn't resist the pun–and Fossil got its name because it sits in a big dinosaur lakebed). I think of it as the first song I'd written in a long time, but that's not true–I actually wrote two new songs in the lst month besides this one–but this one did take a long time to write. I got the chorus way back in October or November, and then verses gradually happened over time until last week. I tried for something that would be "timeless"–i.e., not useable just for the Wheeler Co. Bluegrass Festival–but we'll see. I'll play it this week for the Friday Night Group and see what a live audience thinks.

AMERICAN IDOL: Their contest was announced at the beginning of April, with a deadline of April 17. The producers are after something for the contestants to sing that'll show off their talents, and they'll probably get tens of thousands of entries. From me, they got "Rotten Candy," which CAN be sung by somebody with a good voice (I was channeling Dottie West at the time). It is probably way too country for their tastes; I am sure they're after more "poppy" music, and probably something more upbeat ("Rotten Candy" is just uptempo). What I figure I'll get for my $10 entry fee is the ability to tell audiences, "And this is the song that was rejected by American Idol..." And yes, I've decided that's worth the ten bucks. A lot of serious songwriters are entering this thing, despite the long odds and the contract that'll be offered the winners vesting all rights in the producers of the show–because it's a way to bypass the record industry and get exposure. Myself, I don't care if they steal the song–I'll always write more.

THE WOODY GUTHRIE SONG COMPETITION: The other one I'd planned on entering. In this instance, it's the finalists–3 of them–that will get to perform on stage in Woody's old home town in Oklahoma. They're going to get "Oil in the Cornfield," a song I penned back in 1976 which is one of my few serious songs and probably the only one that fits the "social-justice songs" requirement of the contest. The Collaborators did this one–actually, Vic "Mississippi Spud" Bonner (bass, drums, lead guitar and mixing) and Vikki "Hummingbird" Flawith (piano), with me doing rhythm guitar, vocal and occasional simple plinks on the Strat. The product is (expectably) beautiful.

And that's probably it for contests for this year: two I'd planned to enter, two I didn't that just happened, and all within one month. Contests primarily benefit the contest-runners and no one else; nobody's getting any record contracts out of these (that's not even offered as a prize any more in most contests), and the prizes that ARE offered–recording time, demos, equipment–aren't that attractive for someone like me. I've already got, or can get, that stuff at pretty low cost, and therefore am not impressed. What I look at in contests is (1) whether I've got an advantage that'll help me win, and (2) whether the prize is something that will help ME.

In the above cases, I consider being able to "enter" by playing the song live to be a plus; I do good in live performances. In the Woody Guthrie thing, I tried to submit them as good as possible a recording, in the hope I'll be one of the finalists (who get to perform live). Performing live is a good reward; what I'm after is EXPOSURE for the material, and I get that best by playing it in front of large groups of people in different places. American Idol, of course, is a long shot–but the winner's name is going to get mentioned a lot on T.V., even if he or she never makes a penny out of the deal (which is likely under that contract). And the music publisher? I just want to stay on her mailing list, and have her recognize my name when I submit her something (she may recognize it already).

UPDATES: Still two songs to finish writing (waiting on lyrics, they are); I haven't recorded "Tugga Paw," my and Leif Alderman's Swedish country-music song, yet, but I now have an offer for a BAGPIPE lead (St. Leif was also the patron saint of bagpipes) that I think will sound real impressive.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

MORE UPDATES...

Well, the "Turn Your Radio On" CD is done, but I'm not really happy with it. I'll send it to the music publisher, but I don't think she'll find it acceptable. Basically, we all could have done better. We DID do better, when we played it live, and together.

Which raises the question of how we'd do a CD of the Friday Night Group–which I'd still like to do. I think it'd be necessary to do it live, with the Sound Guy bringing his equipment in. We (which probably means me) would have to script it out beforehand, deciding who would play lead and ensuring they got miked separately (maybe). It might be sufficient to just use the guy's two big stage mikes–he does record stage shows with those.

And from my end? I am tempted to do a repeat engagement with Listen Studios in La Grange (who recorded and mastered the "Santa's Fallen" CD), and use the same set of musicians, rather than doing something new. All of the songs that are "CD material" work well with a bluegrass band, and I can almost predict the number of hours it'll take (which is good, when it's my money). The headache is the special trips to Eastern Oregon (now 350 miles away–and gas is NOT cheap).

"Oil in the Cornfield" is in good hands with The Collaborators, with piano by Vikki Flawith, bass and lead by Mississippi Spud, and rhythm guitar, vocal and plinks on the Strat by me. This one will turn out good, I think. The contest putter-onners may reject it, but it won't be for lack of a good product.

"The Six-Legged Polka" is getting good reviews. In a nutshell, this song entailed taking a limited set of parameters–St. Leif rescued the ants by taking them in and feeding them popcorn–and fitting them into the framework of a traditional dance. It probably couldn't have avoided being over the top–the whole idea is over the top–but I needn't have worried whether people would take it seriously. They don't. The music had to drive this one–a very fast 2/4, with fairly frequent chord changes (but only a handful of chords–I used three). The addition of Gem Watson's electric guitar, played through a drum machine and made to sound like a cross between a saxophone and an accordion–is what really gives the song its "polka" sound.

One concern–it wasn't obvious until after the song was done–is that the music for the verses of "The Six-Legged Polka" was taken bodily from the verses of "Prehistoric Roadkill." The choruses of the two songs are a lot different–but is that enough? Is there a way that "Prehistoric Roadkill" can be played so the similarity isn't obvious? Or will the music need to be redone?

On the other hand, I now have a second verse for "Prehistoric Roadkill" (it already had a first and third, and now needs only a final fourth), and it was probably because I was obsessing about the music in the verses being the same. I may be stuck with the melody–and the tempo, because the song does move pretty fast (though maybe not quite as fast as the polka). I probably have to concentrate on ways the "Prehistoric Roadkill" song can be made to sound different within those limitations. ("Prehistoric Roadkill" is also 4/4, not 2/4, which may help.)

Elsewhere, I solicited a bagpipe lead for Leif Alderman's "Tugga Paw" song that I'm writing the music for, and responded to a blind ad from the "St. Croix Music Society," in the Virgin Islands (I spent one summer in the Virgin Islands, back in 1975)–which resulted in my getting a free subscription to their on-line magazine (I get an e-mail notifying me of each new issue) AND a listing in their Band Directory, with the possibility of a feature article on me at some future date. I don't know if it'll turn into gigs or record sales or not. It's exposure. Remember what the guy said who was asked why he was throwing rocks at birds–he intended to leave no tern unstoned.