“Bach in Wartime”, and New Song!

One thing Brian Eno points out, is that art should be an extension of an artist’s philosophy of all life. Some might say that the effect is similar to the observations of anthropologists who note that members of a culture are unable to accurately perceive their own culture. Many times this is done unintentionally; we don’t take time to self-reflect and parse the weeds to suss out a “life-philosophy”.

But we artists ARE communicating something.

What is that something?

Is it the same thing that I’d want to communicate?

It could be chaos and its descendants. Punk rock. Rock n roll deconstruction from nihilism made sound waves.

It could be the excruciating and exact reproduction of the image of a ship (like the Neo-classicists).

It could be transcendence through beauty. (Like the Existentialists/Romantics)


Maybe Dadism and Surrealism strikes your fancy? Letting anti-art wash over your mind, allowing neural pathways to try to create order where there is none.


So you can see where I’m going—philosophy influences style.
Shoenberg, Webern and Berg needed a way to communicate the heartbreaking horror of the Holocaust, and they settled into atonal 12-tone serialism.
In her fantastic collection of reflections Walking on Water, Madeleine L’Engle comments that folks love Bach in wartime because even tempos, fully functional harmony, and deliberate cadences gives us a sense of structure, rigidity, and security. In peacetime people can dance. They can experiment.


What other examples can you think of?
There’s a musician I’m familiar with that only uses modular synths from a certain era ALSO is a Quaker and tries to put the Quaker view of plainness and simplicity into all his work—something I found very interesting and to my point.
Limitations for a Creative System
As I’ve mentioned, I’m in the deep of tracking a new full length record, Precious Melodies Against Satan’s Devices, and it should be released by the fall! I’m very stoked on the new songs, and I discovered years ago that creative limitations help the whole thing go quicker. I generally make records by myself, and limitations help create the “voice” of other band members, dissidents, opposing view points from which to carom—without ever talking to a soul. I look at the “Fredkin Paradox principle—(your decisions take longer the more similar your options) which I’ve written about before, and I use the creative limitations to create riverbanks for my creative stream to flow through.
The last record (Unreliable Narrator) I had a few limitations:
  • No electric guitars (broke this one, but that’s ok)
  • Always choose the weird way – between two choices, I’d choose the one more elaborate, baroque, or rabbit-trailed
  • Drum programming over live drums
If you’ve listened to the previous record (Slingblades of Husbandry) you may notice an inverse relationship. Slingblades centers around electric guitars, economical pop songwriting, and live-band drum and room sounds. Many of the artistic/musical movements listed above are reactions to other movements on that list. In fact, ALL artistic movements are reacitons against other philosophies, trends, and movements.
Current Limitations for Precious Melodies Against Satan’s Devices
now I’m trying a few different things, I have a type of album-structure archetype that I like to follow, mostly dynamically and a “vibe” kind of thing. Maybe that’s a whole ‘nother blog for the future.
  • Thinking about a fictional band and sticking to a lower number of tracks for the arrangement.
  • Try to use more “live” instruments: MicroBrute, Juno, rather than in-the-box instruments. But if they sound better, then hey.
  • I wanted to use a Rickenbacker electric through a Vox AC-30 for the backbone of most tracks. I wasn’t able to get my hands on one (if you have one you’re looking to lend me or sell, hit me up!) so I’m borrowing an SG. I’ve been sticking to single-coils the last decade or so, especially my Jazzmaster.
I like fast ones, slow ones, that means really upbeat/driving, and at least one acoustic one thrown in there to really bring down the whole dynamic level. I actually tracked that one yesterday, and here is a link to an unfinished version, just for the followers of this site! It’s called “Shine for You”.


Watching: Orange Is The New Black – S3
Listening: Candy Butchers – Hang On Mike
Reading: Just Do Something by Kevin DeYoung
Playing: Alien Isolation (XBOX 360)

Practical Magic

How do we use technology without it letting it use us? Been thinking about this idea lately, some recent films have thrust this theme to the forefront (like the superb Ex Machina) and smart men like Stephen Hawking and Elon Musk’s implicit cries not to develop a high-level artificial intelligence give me gooseflesh. But has there been a recent shift in the way technology has been approached in filmmaking?

Maybe we’ve reached critical mass?

Maybe we’re learning to use technology and not let it use us–letting every action movie smear into a Michael Bay-brown?

Tech used to make us feel like we could do anything, now it has its own trademark, which becomes limiting.


Each one of Mad Max Fury Road’s vehicles was a functioning car. Maybe the functioning cars were from the mind of a demented 8-year-old’s Cirque de Solie fever-dream, but all the vehicles ran and stunt drivers actually drove them! Director George Miller wanted the grounding of practical FX to anchor his far-fetched future.

Going to Zaxby’s


And then there’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens. As a Star Wars devotee, I was guardedly optimistic about the new J.J. Abrams-helmed trilogy. The prequels gave me buyer’s remorse (although if you are a serious fan, this “Ring Theory” has been making the internet rounds this week and it’s worth a look) and I believe in Abrams so so much, just based on his previous cinematic history, both on the silver screen and the small.

Here’s a passage from Vanity Fair’s SWTFA production observations that beautifully surmises this “grounded” approach:
The several minutes of footage I saw backed Willams up, as much as any several minutes from any movie could. Case in point: At the effects session, Abrams was demonstrating his commitment to the more retro, more tactile filmmaking Kasdan had talked about. One scene featured an alien creature that abruptly pops up out of the desert landscape with glowing, flashlight eyes that make it look like a distant cousin to the Jawas of A New Hope. Abrams later called it “a classic, old-school seesaw puppet. We just buried it in the sand, and Neal Scanlan, the creature guy, pushed down on one side and the thing came up on the other side.” At the session, the scene, with the alien suddenly sticking its head over a dune, got a big laugh. Some perfectionist suggested a few digital polishes, but Abrams was wary. “It’s so old-school and crazy,” he said. “We could improve this thing, but at some point do we lose the wonderful preposterousness?” – VF (ht i09)

Family reunion at Zaxby’s


Also working on the films is screenwriter Rian Johnson, who puts it this way;

“I think people are coming back around to
[practical effects]. It feels like there is sort of that gravity pulling us back toward it. I think that more and more people are hitting kind of a critical mass in terms of the CG-driven action scene lending itself to a very
specific type of action scene, where physics go out the window and it becomes so big so quick.”

I’m no luddite, but how can we use tech in music production, writing, etc. and not let it “use us”?

Deep, Deep, nerd stuff, but the DragonAge Inquisition characters quote this line all the time: “Magic was made for man, not man for magic”

I wish I could be John Vanderslice, only recording to analog tape at Tiny Telephone Studios, but it’s financially prohibitive and I need to use what I have. And that said—let it not use me.
I’m taking a break from trouble-shooting my M=Audio FireWire 410—my Mac’s not recognizing it and I can’t uninstall the software in order to re-install. I’m hoping that my day won’t be spent down-grading back to OS 10.10.1 (after I just went up to 10.10.3 yesterday). The demos for the new record are almost done, and they’re being sent to the geniuses involved in the project. Be very stoked.


Listening: New Tame Impala singles

Reading: Marvel’s Civil War 
Watching: The Staircase (RIYL Serial)

Write Smarter, Not Harder: Bro. Andy Paens the Praise of Evernote


My fourteenth semester at Visible Music College has concluded, and I’d like to roll out the time to plan and plot. However, a two-year-old bio-terrorist in the twins’ class brought a lice outbreak to their classroom, and now I’m just trying to keep cheese on the cracker.

But. On to this week’s lesson and musings. I know you’re excited.


Today I’m going to show you how the organizational process I use to write and save songs.
It’s crucial to write down and record every song I write. I audition scores of scallawags for the college’s Songwriting Division who simply rely on their own memory devices to recall all the songs they’ve written. Let’s give our brains a break. Our minds feel relaxed and open to new sources of information and inspiration when they feel they don’t have to “hold” on to previous data. That’s basically the scuttlebutt on one of the primary ideas behind Morning Pages.

Up until about three years ago, I’d transcribe chord charts in Word/Pages/Finale and save them in a “Music” folder within Documents on my laptop’s hard drive. Inside that there would be different folders corresponding to a bevy of bands, projects, or years (if they were songs-without-a-home). This helped with organization as far as archival, but not helpful when it came to quickly finding something I was looking for, or juggling in-progress ideas. As I normally work on two or more songs at a time, this weakness was crucial to fix. Also, trying to access the songs anywhere besides my hard drive was a drag. I’d need to print off on paper or email a file to myself in order to open it on my phone (where I do most of my work on-the-go).

Next, I’d sing musical ideas into the VoiceNotes app in iOS, or just throw down a rough take in GarageBand. As far as  on-the-go lyrical ideas, I’d use an iOS note feature like MagicPad, since it had more text editing features than Notes, (although the Notes feature of syncing-with-iCloud is really attractive).

I needed ONE primary source to aggregate all my inspirations, works-in-progress, and finished ideas. Not countless computer folders that I can only access on my Mac, not three different was of recording. Not even two. ONE.


ENTER: EVERNOTE
I’ll forever sing the praises of Evernote. All my files live in the cloud, so I never lose information whenever my computer or phone crashes, AND I don’t need to worry about re-copying material across multiple devices. Basically, you create documents called “Notes” that you can put in formatted text, photos, audio, etc. It is not limited by page breaks or tight margins, so I feel like I’m writing on a giant whiteboard, not a typewriter sheet. For some reason, that stimulates the ol’ Newton noggin. In fact, I write all of these blog entries in Evernote, then once edited, I upload them to the WordPress interface.


WORKCHAT
Since Evernote’s WorkChat feature has been added, the possibility of collaborative songwriting efforts right in the program are realized. I’ve used it a couple of times in teaching songwriting lessons, but not yet in something that I’ve worked on with somebody. (If you want to collab on something, email me!) The only thing I feel WorkChat is missing is a markup history, ala  GoogleDocs, that way I could follow who made which changes. It definitely decreases the amount of steps needed to share a saved file between people, whether it is a song chart or a saved web article.

NOTEBOOKS
On the organization/archival front, Evernote lets you create “Notebooks” that contain notes on a certain subject. For the topic of “Songwriting”, I actually have three: Songwriting Tips, Songwriting Ideas, and plain ol’ Songwriting, where I have works-in-progress and completed songs. Evernote’s tagging feature helps me further organize the minutia.
Here’s a simple songwriting workflow.

Sample Songwriting Workflow


Full disclosure: when I’m in a pinch, (aka driving) I’ll still open up iOS voice notes and quickly throw an idea in there, but if I can focus long enough, I depend fully on Evernote.

I’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to the capabilities of the program, but I wanted to simply outline the way I use it for my songwriting workflow. I’ve chosen Evernote because hey, you can’t beat free, but ultimately I would encourage you to find some method that helps you 1. Record and archive every idea

Watching: Whiplash
Listening: The Delivery Man – Elvis Costello

The Auteur and LISTENING to Music

When was the last time I simply listened to music–without doing anything else?
I’ve been really enjoying Mark Salomon’s Never Was podcast. Last week featured Copeland frontman Aaron Marsh, and he talked about when he was young, his friends would call and ask what he was doing, and he would reply, “Listening to music.”
Just—“listening to music.”
When did that stop for us? Maybe it never stopped for you. I hope that’s the case. I may say “I’m reading.” Or, “I’m watching a movie.” But how difficult is it to just close my eyes and focus on a record for its own sake? Not driving and listening, not making dinner and listening, not bathing the kids and listening, not working out and listening but just…simply encountering the work. It’s actually my dream for people to encounter my work that way. On a great hi-fi system or with headphones—I’ll come to your house and give your dog a swirly if you listen to my records on those infernal laptop speakers. I’m serious. They call me “The Wet Bandit”.
But you know me–I appreciate the auteur. I love how David Lynch sent specific projection instructions to cinemas.
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So the other morning, I awoke naturally, and my kids were gone, the wife snoozing blissfully beside me, and I listened to the incomparable Songs of Pain and Leisure by TW Walsh. There’s another guy with the “auteur” touch–his fingers are apparent on any project he writes, co-writes, mixes, or masters.
Please love yourself this week and actively listen to music, at least one time this week. Who’s with me? Hey, why not start with my latest album. Haven’t heard it? It’s right here:

Listening: TW Walsh Songs of Pain and Leisure

How Hoarding Can Help Your Songwriting/Writing

I tell people my twins are “thirty-three months old” because, duh, it’s hilarious to watch people’s faces while creating living satire. Maybe I’m getting older and suddenly I’ve devolved to that 8th grade history teacher that quotes Simpsons references just for their own amusement. Well my thirty-three-month-old/two-year-old daughter bojangles behind the whole fam when we take walks. She’ll find rocks, dandelions, forgotten lego pieces, and teeth from drifters she’s murdered and tries to bundle them all in her hands and pockets (with cumbersome success). My wife says this is a typical girl phenomenon called “collecting”.
I call it “hoarding”.
I walked into her room the other day and next to her My Little Pony collection there were five stacks of yellowed newspapers yay-high, a pile of old phone books, and 8 black trash bags full of McDonald’s-limited-edition Beanie Babies. Gotta get that toddler an intervention.


When it comes to songwriting/writing how can it be to our advantage to collect and hoard? The more you have, the more you have to draw from. Don’t sit there and try to brainstorm ex nihilo. We descend from the Information Age and with the world’s collected knowledge at our fingertips, our songs and prose should be savagely different than the last couple of centuries.

I’ve been accumulating ideas for years, My Evernote is Smaug’s horde, huffing around as a dragon amongst seas of gold doubloons. Where do these ideas come from? This list about sums it up. I read once that every quarter or so we should go through our backlog of ideas to see if our psyche can make the coveted connections that we call “inspiration”.
I did this very thing recently. So I I had an original (failed) song draft of that was more a noir crime story, but the plot wasn’t compelling enough. I re-wrote with aggression, digging into my steamer trunk of “good” and “inspired” ideas, dumping as much as I could into one song. I guess it was an event of spring cleaning. The song evolved into more of an impressionistic owl pellet of ideas. You ever have to dissect one of those in grade school? We did in 6th grade in northern-lower-peninsula Michigan. The owls eat mice, rats, and bowls, digest the usable proteins and cough up the unusable bones and hair in a compressed pellet. Yes, another dissection story. My mind seems to absorb inspiration and ideas over time and eventually combine them into an owl pellet of finished work.

Here is the result:

Superbowl Sunday
It was this Superbowl Sunday
I took a jawbone of an ass
I went in to the house of jackals
Took a deep breath of laughing gas
Walking through a thicket of antlers
I thought I smelled somebody telling truth
Then you flashed your Cold War glamour
And said “We’ve been expecting you”
I was fumblin’ thru the wreckage
Thought ’bout Jesus and his dad
It was last Super Bowl sunday
The best that I ever had
It was this Super Bowl sunday
“Dharma bummed” in your parlance
You were my burnside companion
A friend of friends of friends
A man born under hunches
I fought up into welterweight
Though I retired in the Winner’s Circle
But caught the Legionnaire’s Disease
Autopsy showed no foul play
But I know something had
On last Superbowl Sunday
With Jesus and his dad
I’ve continued cleaning out my personal inspiration horde/hook book because I feel like my mind has become stagnant. My boat is waist-high in grouper, why would I need to cast my nets overboard? I’ll put my mind in a place of need for more, and my subconscious should begin collecting the items I need for me to write down in Evernote. Why Evernote, you say? Well, that is a post for a different day…

Does anyone know of any studies done on the the fact-gathering/holding phenomenon that our brains have?


Listening: The Descendents – Everything Sucks
Reading: The Voice of the Heart, Chip Dodd
Watching: Netflix’s Bloodlines

“Gimme Something Good” Analysis

Ryan adams
Something I’ll do occasionally here on the blog is deconstruct great songs for our songwriting learning purposes. I love anytime others do this, whether it’s this blog, or Owen Pallett’s analyses of pop hits for Slate.com.

I want to look at Gimme Something Good from last year’s superb self-titled release. This song has a number of music theory magical elements at play here, but I’m going to zero in on one in particular—the effect of where the rhythm of the lyric lines begin.
Here’s the tune:


The primary electric guitar riff firmly establishes a strong assertion on beat 1, forcing the song to feel very grounded, while a blues-influenced vocal line sashays around the verse. The verse lines come in on beat 3, which establishes an assertive mood (beats 1 and 3 are the “strong” beats).
Verse 1 
Line 1: enters on beat 3
Line 2: + of 2
Line 3:+ of 2
Line 4: 2
Line 5: 3
Line 6:+ of 2
Line 7: 3
Line 8: 2
Chorus: There are two two-measure lines at the top of the chorus that enter firmly on the downbeat of beat 2.
Line 1: (beat 2) All my life…
Line 1: (beat 2) Holding…
The title/hook line appears directly after these “set-up” lines on beat 1. This is the first time we’ve heard any line fall on a beat 1, and it assumes a position of power in the listeners ear. Whether intentional or not, placing the hook/title line on beat 1 creates an undeniable mental cementation.

Gimme Something Good (chorus analysis)
bt 1 Gimme something good
bt 4 Gimme something good
bt 3 Gimme something
bt 1 Gimme something good
bt 4 Gimme something good
bt 3 Gimme something good
THEN the primary electric guitar riff slams on beat 1 of the re-intro to verse 2, leaving the listener very satisfied.
This is idea is reminiscent of Frank Black/Black Francis’ writing for Pixies’ choruses to provide an addictive and disorienting 3-over-2 chorus feel. They’ll use a 3-bar phrasing in 4/4 time. See: “Wave of Mutilation” and “Hey” (this article goes into great detail on this concept). Also, Jimmy Eat World’s “For Me This Is Heaven” achieves the same effect, over a linear drumset pattern for even more unruliness.
The good ideas don’t end there—, that last “Gimme something…” before the end of the chorus leaps up a minor 7th from the B to an A, leaving the listener with a feeling of urgency.
Anything anybody else wants to add to this analysis, or disagree with anything I said? Comment section, y’all!!


Listening: Ryan Adams, S/T
Reading: The Voice of the Heart, Chip Dodd
Watching: Daredevil, S1

Rube Goldberg Songwriting


As I’ve written about many times before, I like the idea of creative systems.
I think I first picked the idea up on my radar from Brian Eno and his work with Peter Schmidt on the Oblique Strategies card deck, and he’s spoken about the subject at length in his published journal A Year With Swollen Appendices. The late poetry professor Richard Hugo speaks about a this phenomenon in his essays on creative writing, The Triggering Town. For a poetry final exam, he gave his students a poem project with an insane amount of restrictions, and then says that, without fail,
Too many beginners have the idea that they know what they have to say–now if they can just find the words. Here, you give them the words, some of them anyway, and some technical problems to solve. Many of them will write their best poem of the term. It works, and I’ve seen it work again and again. While the student is concentrating on the problems of the exercise, the real problems go away fro a moment simply because they are ignored, and with the real problems gone the poet is free to say what he never expected and always wanted to say (pg. 31).
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This week, I also gave my students an assignment with an hearty number of restrictions. The idea is to put your inspiration through the system of your craft, rolling around the creative restrictions. Think of a Rube Goldberg Device (funny name, serious sandwich). I first saw one when I was a young lad on the opening to a moralistic show about a boy with a cartoon friend only he could see.


The assignment: Choose one of Kyle Thompson’s photos from his online gallery and stare at it–generating a large amount of unconscious inspiration. Start with your gut feeling and describe the emotion you are feeling. Keep the emotional content heightened for your chorus. Maybe take out another piece of paper and free-write words and other images evoked by the photo. Form: Must follow this order:
V1
V2
C
V3
C
1/2 VERSE
C2
Special instructions -Must include an instance of contrary motion between the melody moving against the opposite direction of the harmony. (i.e. There She Goes, by The La’s)
Must also include an internal rhyme in the penultimate chorus line, leading to the final title line. Ex. You thought it was fine/to take what was mine
But now you’re just — killing time

I liked this series NPR did called Music Project Song where they’d bring in songwriters—sometimes individually (as in the case with The Magnetic Fields’ Stephen Merritt), sometimes a team (Moby + Kelli Scarr), and sometimes a couple that have never even met before (Chris Walla (ex-Death Cab) and Jawbox’s J. Robbins). They’d let them choose from a series of pictures and a series of words, and then write an record the song in two days. The stuff of thrills.




Reading: The Voice of the Heart – Chip Dodd
Listening: Fugazi – The Argument

The Hulk, Wearing Purple Pants Everyday, and Decision Fatigue


Cartoon characters–from Daffy Duck to Pooh–wear the same thing every day, right? My son smashes the day away with an Incredible Hulk action figure, and recently I found myself scrutinizing Hulk’s signature tattered purple pants. I realized that Bruce Banner must be wearing purple pants everyday when he turns into the Hulk in order for the Hulk ALWAYS to wear the aforementioned eggplant slacks.  Maybe they’re his most hated pair of pants, and since Banner knows he’s gonna hulk-out after brunch, he doesn’t care if they get destroyed, and thus purposely wears them. Maybe Banner is a genius—(he IS the world’s most leading scientist on Gamma radiation, after all). Or perhaps Banner is familiar with “decision fatigue”, and with only so many usable hours in the day to do research-y stuff, he is going to stick to the purple slacks and white lab coat.


“Hulk smash below belt!”


With our limited amount of creativity and willpower, let’s conserve it for the things that matter—your creative work, your relationships. This idea of “decision fatigue” haunted Madame Bovary writer Gustave Flaubert, who said,

“Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”

In one of my favorite books, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, Mason Currey outlines Flaubert’s austere schedule which he used while he wrote Bovary. 

The president does the same thing. Interviewing President Obama for Vanity Fair, Michael Lewis records Obama saying,

“You’ll see I wear only gray or blue suits. I’m trying to pare down decisions. I don’t want to make decisions about what I’m eating or wearing. Because I have too many other decisions to make.’ He mentioned research that shows the simple act of making decisions degrades one’s ability to make further decisions.”
We can think of other creative “greats” who have latched onto a similar idea. Steve Jobs’ signature black mock-turtleneck, blue jeans and white sneaks.

Mark Zuckerburg, (while not lauded for the choices) commits to a daily grey tee.

One of my favorite comedians, Jason Mantzoukas (aka “Dirty Randy” on The League), has a whole Tumblr devoted to his uniform of white BDCO’s and blue jeans.


I drink the same coffee every morning at 8:45. Gone are the days of experimenting with alchemic variations of shot and syrup ratios. During a recent summer, ago I ate a Cobb salad every day for lunch from the little bistro counter that occupied the lobby of the First Tennessee Bank on Third St. What daily decisions can I establish as sacrosanct so that I don’t have to decide? I’ve started using templates as I demo songs in Logic X, that has saved me a lot of time. I mainly stick to the same drum, guitar, and keyboard sounds at first, and let’s me focus on writing and arranging the actual song.
The fall of 2001 I didn’t get to go away for school, and I was flipping carpets at a Persian Rug department at a furniture store. I wore a size small (yeeeesh) black Hanes tee everyday. I did like it at those times. But now, opening a closet to one outfit feels a little soul-killing–“variety is the spice of life”, they say. I’ll think about it.

Listening: Gasoline Heart, Thanks for Everything
Watching: House of Cards, S3
Reading: Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy (trying to finish the last 40 pages)
Playing: Battlefield for Xbox

Hot Yoga, and Leonard Cohen Tells The Truth

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“I’ll be there for you”


A new Planet Fitness opened around the corner from my house, and I decided to try something new and become a member. I totally love going, and going as often as I can. Kinda surprised myself. Am I becoming a gym rat? I just like going for the drugs. Get all those juicy endorphins, dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin flowing like wine. Keep away the haranguing depression and anxiety–a pox on you! This morning they actually gave out free bagels, so I made sure to replace all those beloved calories that I had just burnt off. I was a runner for almost ten years…I loved the high and the freedom of the wind blowing betwixt my whiskers. Running’s not for everyone. My wife hates running. I respect that. I hate hot yoga. No, not Bikram Yoga, hot yoga. Practicing two feet away from a lot of other sweaty, farting, bodies in a 100º room. Yoga rules. Love yoga. But I hate being hot. It’s difficult enough surviving in the Memphis summer heat, my tongue parched and pores screaming for moisture—except for the 80% humidity, ahhh that’ll do the trick. But she loves it. And since my knees staged a body mutiny, I stick to the gym machines. That is a truth.

Been plagued by this idea of “truth” in songwriting (and “regular” writing), ever since I read Leonard Cohen’s interview in Paul Zollo’s Songwriters on Songwriting. I wrote about this interview a couple of weeks ago, but this idea of truth has emerged like a weed in many songwriting conversations the past couple of weeks. Maybe it’s not a weed, but a blossom.

Cohen starts by actually stating the opposite point of truth (pg 334):
Some songs take a decade to write. “Anthem” took a decade to write. And I’ve recorded it three times. More. I had a version prepared for my last album with strings and voices and overdubs. The whole thing completely finished. I listened to it, there was something wrong with the lyric, there was something wrong with the tune, there was something wrong with the tempo. there was a lie somewhere in there, there was a disclosure that I was refusing to make.

Zollo keys into this and follows up with,
PZ: Earlier you said that you couldn’t sing an early version of “Anthem” because it had a lie in it. Does this mean that the songs have to resonate in truth for you to be able to sing them?
LC: They have to resonate with the kind of truth that I can recognize… (pg 339)

My mind’s been orbiting this thought in one way or another for the better part of this month, with (two posts ago) about point-of-view and value. Maybe that has something to do with it, as well—being authentic with your POV and your values. Bringing everything into focus, like the focus wheel on binoculars. I’m trying to strive for this…this, focal truth—I’m throwing overboard the word authentic because it stinks of co-option by marketing boardrooms. Writing songs this month committing to not having lies in them.


Reading: Song: The World’s Best Songwriters on Creating the Music that Moves Us ed. American Songwriter Magazine
Listening: Giant Sand
Watching: House of Cards, S3