Follow-up to Building Your Song

THANKS

I had a plan for what I wanted to post this week, but I am going to put that aside for the moment and address some issues raised by last week's post, which, thanks in large part to some Redditors over at /r/WeAreTheMusicMakers and /r/Guitar, EXPLODED. I deeply appreciate anyone who read the post, let alone commented, cross-posted, retweeted, or otherwise shared it. I can't tell you how great it feels to know that someone was able to benefit from my experiences. Thank you.

Because I'm responding to some of the topics from last week, what follows may not be the most structured post. Apologies.

GENRE

I should have specifically mentioned in the article, and perhaps on the Work the MIC website in general, that the things I have to say about music are aimed at musicians who are interested in writing songs for the "mainstream." By that I mean "commercially viable" Rock, Alternative, Indie, Singer-Songwriter, Country, Pop, Folk, Metal, and even Rap, that kind of thing. So, some of the things I said and will say about structure, checklists, and hooks will not apply if you're doing, say, house music, improvisational Reggae, or experimental Acid-Rock.

VERSE/CHORUS

Some people complained about the "tired" verse/chorus structure. Look, every song has parts. Call them "A," "B," and "C," or "verse/prechorus/chorus/bridge," the names don't matter. The point is that you do not want to play one note or repeat the same 4 bars over and over for 3-4 minutes. People like change in their music, but not too much change.

You shouldn't feel limited by this structure. Remember that the Wright Brothers' Flyer and the Space Shuttle both have an engine, wings, and landing gear, but one traveled a few feet, and the other makes regular milk runs to space. There's lots of room to play within the verse/chorus structure. It's been around for a LONG time, and it's not likely to go anywhere anytime soon. I didn't make these guidelines, I just study and practice them.

A couple of commenters complained that "so and so" famous artist put out hit songs that didn't observe the traditional structure. My response to that is that:

A) In almost all of these cases, and certainly in the examples mentioned, the artist was already famous, or at least had an audience. When you are comfortable with the size of your audience, you can write whatever you want.

B) These examples are so few as to be irrelevant to this conversation. As with any art form, learn the rules before you break them.

DON'T TAKE IT PERSONAL

Quantity breeds quality.

Some people resonated with my method of brainstorming multiple songs in a single session, while others thought it was ridiculous. Someone even said, "that's a good way to write crap." You can write as little or as much as you want, but my point is this: don't get emotionally attached to your work, especially too early on. If you've seen any behind-the-scenes documentary about a band going into the studio, you will invariably see that they went in with something like 14, 16, or 20 songs, and came out with 10. That's just the way it works - quantity breeds quality.

Imagine that a major record label down in Nashville hires you to be an in-house songwriter/producer. They're bringing in their latest Pop starlet for a writing session tomorrow at 2pm, and they want you to bring your best ideas to pitch to her and her team for a new single. You will be 1 of 4 other writers in the room all vying to get that 1 track recorded. Are you only going to show up to that meeting with 1 song idea? If the starlet rejects your idea, then what? Are you going to scream "but I worked really hard on it!" then stomp out of the room, go hide in a closet, and quietly sob? OR, are you going to say "no problem, here's my next idea. What do you think?"

I treat my band writing sessions as if they were that kind of record-label pitch meeting. I show up with 2 or 3 ideas that I've put some decent time into. If 1 is rejected, or needs work, we have other things to try out. We have our eggs in many different baskets. (Don't get me wrong, I still cry in a closet if my ideas are rejected.) If the song goes in a different direction than I imagined, then so be it. There's no harm in trying something new. We can always circle back to the original idea if it doesn't work out.

ARE WE ARTISTS OR ARTISANS?

To be a good songwriter, you have to put some blood on your guitar strings.

Judging from a few of the comment threads I saw, some people seem to think the song should just fall out of your brain fully-formed and ready to be turned into a gold record, as if anyone can write a great song anytime they wish. I disagree. Real songwriting is craft. It is hard work. It is learning, trying, failing, and trying again. It is taking a huge slab of marble, and hammering and chiseling away for days and weeks to reveal the beautiful statue hidden inside.

You have to have vision, inspiration, and skill, but more importantly, you have to have persistence. You aren't going to pick up a notepad and a guitar for the first time and wow the pants off of everyone within range of your voice. If you want to write, you have to put some blood on your paper and your guitar strings.

If you do this right, you will get tired of it. You will get frustrated. You will get so angry that you'll want to push a piano off of a rooftop. When that time comes, I suggest taking a short break. If you're not drained as a result of the work you put into your music, then you're not putting enough work into your music. If you get up on stage and play something you just threw together, it will show. If you don't believe me, ask Ernest Hemingway, who said, "the first draft of anything is shit."

Rodin worked on "The Gates of Hell" for 37 years. Does that inspire you, or tire you?

I recently went to the Rodin museum in Philadelphia. Rodin is famous for his statue "The Thinker," which I discovered was actually part of Rodin's larger masterpiece, called "The Gates of Hell." It's a set of doors that includes several scenes from Dante's "Inferno," and is an unbelievably impressive piece of art. I was stunned to learn that Rodin worked on this single piece for THIRTY-SEVEN YEARS. Does that inspire you, or do you just feel tired thinking about that? Tell me again, how much time have you put into your songs?

LEAVE THEM WANTING MORE

In an ideal situation, there would be a song-editor to keep every songwriter in check. Authors, journalists, and filmmakers have editors. Why don't we? We do have Producers, but those of you who are recording at home don't typically have access to them, and even if you do, they usually don't come along until very late in the process.

In the mean time then, someone has to take the raw materials created by the original artist and find a way to translate it into a clear and cohesive story, told in the most entertaining way possible. Unless you have a Producer, we have to come up with other methods to trim the fat, which is why I suggested getting feedback from songwriting circles, pros, and friends, etc. in last week's article.

Broad-appeal songwriting is sort of like writing for Twitter in that you are forced to be as lean as possible. You can still say a lot with 140 characters, and the same goes for a 3-minute Rock song. But, you have to cut ALL the fat. When it comes to trimming, my co-writer likes to remind me of a tip he heard from [a famous musician whose name escapes me now]: "Take your finished song, and chop out every other line. Does it still make sense afterward?"

Do you really need a 1:45 intro? Do you absolutely have to have a 1:30 solo that just repeats the same part over and over? Always leave the audience wanting more. Give them an action-packed trailer instead of the movie, the deleted scenes, the cast interviews, and behind-the-scenes documentaries. I just went to see a Rock show last week, and the band (who are fairly well-known) spent a large portion of almost EVERY song just repeating the same 2-bar instrumental part over and over while the singer traipsed around the stage. That's not jamming... that's padding your set.

SUMMARY or, for Redditors: TL;DR

If you want to be an effective songwriter, you have to put in serious time and practice. You will not improve as a songwriter with a Playstation controller in your hand. You have to learn how to cut the fat, and more often than not, you gotta cut deep. Get someone to give you good feedback on what they think could be cut. Don't take cuts personally. As many famous authors have said, you have to "kill your darlings."

5 Steps to Building Your Song

There are as many different songwriting methods in the world as there are chicken dishes at your average Chinese buffet. It doesn't matter if you prefer General Tso's chicken, chicken on a stick, or black pepper chicken, you're going to reach the ultimate goal of stuffing yourself 'til you're sick no matter what.

Now, if I had marketing savvy, I would probably label this as "5 guaranteed steps to write a hit song!" but that's ridiculous. There is no formula, no matter what anyone tells you. As with Chinese chicken, don't limit yourself to one set of rules or one method when it comes to songwriting. Pick your chicken... I mean method. Pull from here and there. Find what works for you. Just get writing. Here's what works for me.

I think of songwriting in terms of building a (very simple) house:
Step 1: gather the materials, let's say it's lumber
Step 2: build the frame
Step 3: take care of the internal stuff: pipes, wires, furniture, whatever
Step 4: get it inspected
Step 5: live in it

STEP 1: GET THE LUMBER

QUANTITY THEN QUALITY

Songwriting, like any other skill, demands practice. Lots of it. If you only write 2 songs a year, you're going to get very tied to your precious little gems of creative expression. You won't want to change the parts that aren't working. You'll worry so much about making it perfect that you'll never actually finish it. You won't be very open to feedback, because you've invested so much time in it. You may spend 6 months or a year polishing a turd. To hell with that.

When I'm in songwriting mode, I might bang out 2 or 3 in a sitting. Not 2 or 3 per month. Not 2 or 3 a week. A sitting. At this stage, you are Paul Bunyan, chopping down trees indiscriminately, and piling the lumber high on your big blue ox. You're not worried about the walls of your home yet, and no one's giving a single thought to the light fixtures or the kitchen sink. You want rough sketches of music and lyrics, not finished masterpieces.

DON'T YOU DARE EDIT (YET)

Like I said, this phase is about the RAW materials. Don't worry about a little issue here or there. That chord at the end of the first verse sounds weird? Circle it, and come back to it later. Stay in the big picture. Let it all out. Editing at this phase will kill the creativity, and we don't want that. There is no judgment in brainstorming! Come up with a chorus and two verses, then move on to another song. Don't sweat the lyrics, don't freak out about where the organ solo is going to go.

SAVE THE BRIDGE FOR LATER

I almost never write my bridge during the lumber phase. I intentionally save that for another day. I want there to be enough space between me and the song that I can come back with fresh ears and make the bridge a wholly separate part. I've noticed that when I've written bridges the same day as the other sections, it ends up being too similar to the verse or chorus.

WRITE IT DOWN

It is greedy to assume the universe will send you a gift a second time.

Some people like to just fiddle around with chords or lyrics for a few minutes, and just see if it goes anywhere. Then they go about their day without writing down their idea. Then, surprise! They can't remember what their idea was. Or, they wake up in the middle of the night and think "ooh, I just dreamed the perfect melody!" and then they roll over and go back to sleep, without humming the melody into their phone's voice recorder app. The next morning... no more idea.

That is foolish. Brains aren't too good at the whole remembering thing. Remember that "the dullest pencil is better than the sharpest mind." If you get a creative idea, it is a gift from the universe, and it is greedy to assume that the universe will send you these gifts a second time. When fate hands you a present, appreciate it. Put it somewhere safe so that you can get back to it later. You can determine if the universe gave you gold or a pile of donkey crap tomorrow.

STEP 2: BUILD THE FRAME

EDIT THE CRAP OUT OF IT

Yesterday, you wrote two verses and a chorus. Today, it's time for you to go back and and play through what you have. Inspect your logs. Which ones are rotten? What logs are perfect right from the get-go? What logs are in pretty good shape, but might need some more chopping, or shaving, or whatever it is lumberjacks do? These logs are the supports for your home - you have to be brutal. Re-write the entire verse if something's the least bit out of whack. If a lyric feels rushed, deal with it now. Don't wait.

Think of the bridge as, "Oh you liked the chorus? Well, you're gonna LOVE this!

If everything is working, come up with a bridge. Try to make it a wholly unique part that could stand on its own. It should have its own hook. It is not just a pause to get back to the chorus. Think of the bridge as, "Oh, you liked the chorus? Well, you're gonna LOVE this!"

SAVE EVERYTHING

If the song just isn't working, see if there's any parts worth saving. Put them somewhere safe. Then shelve the song and move on. Don't trash it. You may decide that it's worth revisiting a few years later.

I had a song that wasn't working in 2007. We recorded it (at great expense, mind you), and the producer just wasn't feeling it. I shelved it, and we replaced it on the album with another song. The band and I revisited it circa 2009. Still wouldn't come together. Oh well. Back on the shelf. Skip ahead to 2012. The band (now with different members) and I were tinkering with stuff, and for some reason I pulled out that old non-working song. It immediately clicked. It went on our new album, and it got decent radio play. You just never know.

PLAY IT THROUGH (THE WHOLE WAY)

In terms of the song's overall arrangement or flow, the best way to see if it's working or sucking is to play the song all the way through. Is there a smooth, natural transition from the intro to the verse to the chorus to the second verse to the bridge to the outro? Or are there awkward moments where you can't quite get to the next section without stuttering? Play through from start to finish as many times as you possibly can.

STEP 3: THE PIPES AND THE WIRES

CHECK YOUR SECTIONS

Do you have a(n):

• intro
• verse
• chorus
• bridge
• outro
• lyrical hook
• melodic hook
• instrumental hook
• bonus options:
• prechorus
• post-chorus

This is a checklist of essentials for any song. If something is missing, go back and add it. You might think that having all of these parts is formulaic. Well, every house has a foundation, walls, a roof, and a way to get air and people in. That being said, there's a million different ways to construct a house, and those same fundamental components make up everything from a hermit's mountaintop shack to the palace at Versailles.

RECORD IT AND PLAY IT BACK

Make a rough recording however you can. Use your phone or a digital recorder. Hell, use an 8-track Tascam for all I care. Just get it out of you, and onto something else. Play it back. What does it sound like? Does it sound like a real song? Is there something that sounded great in your head, but sounds like crap on the recording?

STEP 4: GET IT INSPECTED

If you've done the necessary work of writing the song's various parts, editing it, re-writing, re-working, checking the structure, adding in the missing components, then you'll probably start to get a bit bleary-eyed. You will also start to develop emotional attachments to various chords, phrases, or sections, etc. You're no longer impartial. So, it's time to get your home/song inspected by a professional to make sure everything is intact.

Whether you play this song for a friend or a professional is up to you. But, you need to get it heard by someone else. Someone who can give you clear, objective, honest feedback. Write down what they tell you. If you decide to integrate some of their feedback into your writing, don't trash or write over the old version. Start a new Word document. Get out a clean piece of paper. You want options to fall back on later when you're more objective.

STEP 5: LIVE IN IT

This step is the simplest. Once you've written the parts, hacked them out and replaced them with better ones, fine-tuned the best stuff, and played it for someone that you trust, you now need to get out there and play it for the world. You need to go to open mics, or songwriters' circles, and play it live. Lots.

Do NOT get up on stage and say "I just wrote this song this afternoon"

Do people pay attention when you play? Do they mentally check out? Do they pay attention for the intro then start talking to their neighbor when you hit the verse? Does anyone compliment the song when you come off stage? If they comment on it, do they sound genuine, or are they just being kind?

In order to be able to read the audience like this, you need to know the song well enough to do it from memory. Do NOT get up there on stage and say "I just wrote this song this afternoon." You need to know that song cold. No sheet music. No crutches. You burn that song into your brain and hands until your muscles and voice could play it without your help. Say nothing about when you wrote it. You don't want to give yourself or your audience any reason to forgive the song's flaws. Either it works, or it doesn't.

The key to this phase is repetition. You should never make an expensive recording of a song before you've played it live a number of times, if you can possibly avoid it. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, will test the quality of a song like playing it live.

SERVE THE SONG

You have to remember that songwriting is about WRITING THE BEST SONG POSSIBLE. It's about serving the song. It is not about serving your ego. It is not about showing off. It is about making a song that will stick in people's heads so that they will want to hear it again. The ultimate test of the song is what I call the hum test. You play a song for your friend. When you're done playing, go and do something else for 20-30 minutes. Play ping pong, or do the dishes, eat a burrito, I don't know.

Then, without warning or preparation, stop in the middle of whatever you're doing. Point at your friend, as if to accuse them of something. Ask them to hum the song back to you. Can they? Ask them if they remember any lyrics. Any part of the melody or lyrics will do. If they can't remember ANYTHING, if they can't even get close... you've got a lot of work to do. BUT, if they've got something, anything from what you've played them... you've got something to build on.

Be a Mensch

If you liked anything you've read, please share, repost, or quote. I appreciate your support.

Follow-up

This article generated a lot of discussion, so I wrote a companion article to respond to some of the issues it raised.

Your Mom Loves Your Music... Should You Give a Flying Crap?

Last week, we talked about getting feedback on your songs from a professional. Now, let's talk about getting feedback from "unprofessionals"... your family and friends.

There's an understandable tendency (particularly among younger/newer musicians) to want to go to those closest to you and ask them what they think of your music. I think that's a dangerous proposition, after all...

...WHAT THE HELL DOES YOUR MOM KNOW ABOUT MUSIC?

I don't know what music your parents listen to. Maybe they have great taste in music, or... maybe they're like many people over a certain age who get stuck in musical ruts and can't stand any of this "new-fangled dance shenanigans the kids are listening to these days." That kind of sentiment isn't limited to parents who grew up in a certain decade.

They all feel like that, no matter what their kids listen to. My grandmother was a rebel for listening to Swing. My parents were rebels for listening to Elvis. I was a rebel for listening to Nirvana. Parents these days are freaking out about Miley Cyrus or whoever. This dynamic isn't likely to change anytime soon. Don't believe me? Here's the science to prove it: How Our Taste in Music Changes Over a Lifetime

When I was starting out as a musician, my parents were listening to a classical music "best of" compilation albums, church hymns, and African children's choirs. So, their musical framework wasn't particularly helpful in guiding my attempts to merge the Gin Blossoms, Alison Krauss, and Ryan Adams. Their response to my music was, "why can't you sing about something happy?" ...even if the song was about something happy.

...GOOD TASTE DOESN'T EQUAL HELPFUL ADVICE

But hey, maybe the music gods bestowed you with cool parents (or brothers, sisters, friends, etc.) who listen to new stuff all the time. They know who's been rolled off the Disney, American Idol, Nashville, or X-Factor conveyor belt this week, or they listen to the "new" station on Pandora or Spotify. Maybe they keep a close eye on musical blogs and new release Tuesday.

Does that mean they can articulate differences in song structures? Can they express their feelings regarding a particular melodic choice, a mix, or an instrumental tone? Do they know what a rhythmic pocket is? ...How to chop frequencies to seat a voice in a crowded mix? ...About intros, outros, channels, and bridges?

I know lots of people who have GREAT taste in music. They put me to shame with their awareness of who's hot or a has-been, and can tell me who's going to explode this time next year. Some of these people are even hobbyist musicians. However, that doesn't mean they can articulate what they like or don't like, about what's working or isn't in a given song.

It's been my experience that they often interpret my songs in terms of what they know: "It sounds like ______ artist combined with ______ artist. I like it!" or "I don't know, I'm not feeling it... it's a little ...I don't know..." This kind of information is not particularly helpful.

On occasion, I've noticed that because these people have really strong preferences for what they like and don't like, they might (unknowingly) try to skew me in a strange direction. "Have you listened to ______ dance pop band? It might help you make your songs more dance-able." All fine and good... if you want to make dance songs. Not so much if you're an acoustic singer-songwriter.

...EMOTIONS CAN BLIND THE SMARTEST PEOPLE

Your cousin may be a plaid-shirted, bowtie-wearing ultra-hipster who has a diverse library of music, and is on top of every new release. They may be able to perfectly articulate their feelings on A A B C A structures as opposed to A B A B C B. However, they may look at you, their precious little cousin clutching her sweet little guitar, her puppy dog eyes as wide as they can be, head bursting with dreams of stardom, and they may not be able to find that delicate balance of objectivity and frankness. They may say, "hey that sounds really good" and send you on your way so they can protect their poor widdle cousin's feelings.

Or maybe your cousin is really good at giving concise, honest, informed, objective feedback. But maybe when they do, YOU remember how they used to throw rocks at your head when you were little, and you begin to let that experience color their advice. "I think you need to separate the chorus from the bridge," they tell you. "And try bringing the tempo down by 2 or 3 bpm to let the melody feel more natural." Great advice. But to you, these are just more rocks flying at your head. And the next thing you know, you're seeing red, and getting carted off to jail for assaulting your cousin with the shards of a shattered Takamine.

SO NOW WHAT?

If you want feedback on your songs, try to find someone who doesn't have a stake in your personal life. Like, seriously, none. They don't know you, they don't date your sister. They don't mow your lawn. Someone who has good taste. Someone who can be clear and honest, and won't protect your feelings. Someone who knows something about how to play and write music, not just listen to it. Someone who knows your style, and what you're going for. If at all possible, it would be nice if these people play or have played music for people, and people like it.

You're not the first musician in your genre... these people are out there. Look on forums, go to open mics, go to smaller shows and introduce yourself to the band, talk to your musician friends who might know people higher up the music food chain. When you take their advice, put it through your filter. Only you can decide if their advice is worth taking.

Stop and think before you play your songs for your family and friends.

DON'T FORGET THE BIG PICTURE

Each step of your musical career, no matter how insignificant, warrants thought and preparation. Stop and think before you play your songs for your family and friends. If and when they give you feedback, consider if you want to take it at face value.

Beyond that, think about ways you can get good, clean feedback from someone who knows what they're talking about. Plan your route, watch your steps, and keep an eye on your surroundings. It's a difficult balance, and there's plenty of musicians who can do one of those things, but not the others. The good ones do all three.

THE WORLD NEEDS YOU. I NEED YOU.

If you could take 5 seconds to share this article with other musicians and artists, I would appreciate it. Thank you for your time!

Feedback from the Pros Ain't Always Pro Feedback

I GET GIDDY

A few of the most exciting experiences I've had in my musical life involved getting my songs into the eyes and ears of some pretty famous musicians/industry people. When I say "exciting," I mean that these moments are the closest I've ever come to being downright giddy. Keep in mind that "giddy" is not a word that I, or anyone who knows me, would use to describe my highly-introverted personality, so understand that this giddiness is a big deal.

These were hands shaking, voice cracking, sweaty pits-type moments. I'm across from this person, this legend/hero, and they're about to tell me what they think about MY SONG. In each case, my thoughts were relentlessly going back and forth between "What if they like it?" and "Oh my god, what if they hate it?!" "But what if they LIKE it?"

These situations are distant relatives to those times when you play your song for a significant other, family member, or friend, except that instead of hearing "are these lyrics about ME?!" or "why can't you write something happy?" these famous people, no... these STARS, with their connections, knowledge, and experience could give you that one comment or criticism that changes EVERYTHING.

LET ME DOWN EASY... OR, YOU KNOW, DON'T

If you're a fan of sports metaphors, (and who isn't?!) then this is the turning point when the kid who's never played foosball in his life gets pulled into the game with 2 seconds on the clock to throw the grand slam that will determine if the team makes the semi-regional-quarterfinal-bowl. The crowd is hushed. The clock starts ticking. The kid takes a deep breath, and swings the ball, and against all odds SCORES the wicket or whatever, and then the crowd... quietly gathers their belongings and heads for the nearest exit at a reasonable and orderly pace.

There was no 'oh my god' eureka experience.

That's what it was like for me anyway. There was no "oh my god, this is pure gold!" eureka-type experience. Nor was there a "get out of here, kid, you're a hack" public shaming. In almost every case, it was more like a "yup." For example, the moment I was most excited about was when I got a response from a member of one of the bands that inspired me to become a musician. He had heard approximately ten demos of mine. His feedback? Something akin to:

"Good structure. Good songs."
"Anything we should change?" I asked.
"Nope. Good stuff."

That's it. Wait, seriously? That's it?! The hard work, time, money, and sacrifice of writing and re-writing 10 songs got me 4-5 non-committal words from a personal hero. Of course, that's just one experience, right? Nope. There were others. I hired a well-known and respected producer to work with another batch of songs. I paid him a lot of money. He heard 12 demos. His response? Pretty similar to the above. Actually, all four of the situations I have in mind went almost the exact same way. Coincidence? Not likely.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?

It's my theory that these responses are not the ones that these people WANTED to give, but rather the ones they have trained themselves to give after going through what must be hundreds of situations in which someone handed them a demo and asked if they would check it out. (For reference, see the interaction between Jonah Hill and Russell Brand in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall.")

In each case, the famous person must know that the demo-hander is hoping that any or all of their songs will cause the famous person to uncontrollably shout, "oh my god, we've discovered the next big thing" and then ask them to hop on back of their gold-plated rocket to fortune and fame.

Music is personal. You tie emotions into it, even if it's something you didn't write. I can't listen to a song from my high school days without cradling a yearbook and sobbing a river of tears onto the glossy pages filled with "have a nice summer" messages and awkwardly-posed photographs.

When someone writes a song, they might as well be pouring their soul onto a piece of paper. So, if someone tells a writer, "the chorus needs work" you're pretty much saying to that person "your soul is hollow, you should burn your guitar, and you have no reason for living."

I've been a feedback-giver in a few situations. Some people take your feedback with some wincing, others say "thanks" but ignore it altogether. Others get angry. Like seriously pissed. Others get hurt. Like, you might be surprised just how hurt.

I believe that true Pros have learned their lesson and walk the safe line of "not bad" because it saves them the pain and hassle of having to watch yet another aspiring musician angrily snatch their CD back, stomp off to the bathroom, and try to drown themselves in the sink.

SO WHAT

The moral of this story is, you have to decide whether you're going to let this feedback impact you, for better or worse. If someone tells you they hate your work, does that mean you should quit? If they tell you they love it, does that mean there's no room for improvement? If they are totally "meh" about your work, what does that mean for you?

It wouldn't hurt to prepare for these situations before they happen, as awkward as that might seem. Think through your response if the person trashes your work, or praises it, or if they say something like "not bad."

BE SOCIAL

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Recording Your Shows Is a Bad Idea (Part II)

Let's continue our discussion about whether you should record your shows. You can catch up on the first part of the discussion here.

THE ONE GOOD PART

There IS an upside to recording live performances... it gives you a loose (and if you're recording with a phone, I do mean loose) idea of what everyone in the band is playing, and allows you to make decisions about structure, parts, arrangements, and mixing.

If that's what you're going for, it might be better to capture a rehearsal, where you're not competing with crowd noise, and you're not obsessing over cringe moments like when you said something really embarrassing from the stage or when the vocalist went flat on the chorus of your best song. Your negative feelings about those moments could color your opinion of the rest of the recording. However, if you hear those moments in a rehearsal recording, you'll be much better off because you can just say, "thank god no one heard that."

That brings me to what I view as the most important consideration about recording live performances: we humans are subjective, emotional beings, and we have poor memory-recall abilities. In some cases, that's a good thing.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MUSICAL FAILURE

Let's say you have a terrible show. Everybody's got 'em, so don't feel too lousy about it (unless you've been having terrible shows for 11 years... then you may want to reevaluate some things). Maybe your drummer drank too much and dropped the beat a couple times. The singer couldn't hear herself in the monitor, so her pitch was all over the place. The sound guy was watching a ball game on his phone instead of paying attention to the mix. (All of these things will happen to you if they haven't already. God knows they've happened to me too many times.)

Now, if you didn't record that trainwreck of a show, your imperfect memory will gradually gloss over all the bad stuff, and you'll eventually come to a place where it doesn't bother you that basically shamed yourself in front of a bunch of friends, fans, or coworkers. You'll probably even laugh about it, if you remember it at all. Without that crippling shame of failure, you'll just go about your musical career, happy as you please.

"If you record a bad show, you have a permanent reminder of just how sh%&ty you really were...

Not the best thing to have if you want to convince yourself to get on stage again."

HOWEVER, if you did record the show, you now have a great and semi-permanent reminder of just how shitty you really were, and if you're anything like a lot of us self-conscious musicians, you'll put that thing on repeat and beat yourself up for years to come. Maybe not the best thing to do if you ever want to work up the courage to get back up on stage again.

This is especially true if you're just starting out, because there's going to be some crappy shows... maybe even a lot of them... and it takes a certain amount of self-deception to keep plugging away and getting better. Having a hard copy of your failure is going to make that all the more difficult.

MR. FREEZE

Another thing a lot of people don't think about is the observer principle as it relates to your recording. There's some sort of crazy brain magic that causes many people to just freeze or panic when they see a camera. If you know that your performance could be posted on YouTube for millions of people to watch you miserably and utterly fail, you might start to notice your voice tightening up, or your guitar player sweating abnormally, or that suddenly the band is plowing through the stops in every song, or playing in double time.

DON'T WORRY, IT'S ONLY BECAUSE YOU SUCK

Some people might argue that if you don't want to record your show, it's because you're not "pro" enough, and if you were legitimately talented, you'd be okay with any show you play representing you as a performer.

Bullshit. If you pay attention to your favorite band's live album, you will most likely hear them fading in the beginnings or fading out the endings on certain tracks. In some cases, this is because they are cutting out breaks or banter, or sound problems, but in a lot of cases, it's because they're patching together 2 or 3 performances, or even an entire tour into one good show. Nobody's perfect all the time.

IT'S YOUR FUNERAL

Recording shows is your decision, but hopefully I've given you some things to think about. And if you ARE going to do it, do it right, something we'll talk about in a separate post.

(If you like what you've read, please share or quote freely. I appreciate your support.)

Recording Your Shows is a Bad Idea (Part I)

I'M A JERK

I am an absolute tyrant about the fact that I do not want anyone recording my band's live shows. Friends and fans will tell you that I have asked them to take cameras off of their tripods, or delete recordings from their smartphones and social media pages.

Am I jerk? Am I killing my chance for free promotion? Am I alienating friends and fans? Probably. But I've got my reasons. Many musicians rush straight into recording their performances only minutes after they've learned their first chord. It's a natural inclination to want to hear how you sound. However, I believe there are some compelling reasons to leave the camera at home.

RECORDING QUALITY

There's this idea that a recording, regardless of the equipment, the technique used, or the skill of the person doing the recording, is an objective version of what you actually sound like. That's a nice idea, unfortunately, it is total bullshit. Let me tell you why:

MUSIC IS MORE THAN SOUND

Let's compare sound to color, since we can't see sound. When you're listening to music in a live setting, you are absorbing a wide prism of "colors," whether you're listening to a solo instrument, or a full band. The primary color of an upright bass is beautiful on its own, but mixed with another primary - maybe a tight kick drum - you now "see" an equally pleasing secondary color. (This all assumes that the band and sound guy know what they're doing, but let's just put that aside for now.)

"A smartphone can't capture the warm fuzzies of a great performance."

The colors these instruments produce are reflected off of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, absorbed by the bodies of the audience, altered by the shape of the stage, and filtered through your highly subjective emotional and mental state. Your feelings about the music and the experience are affected by the energy of the crowd, and the charisma of the band.

A smartphone will funnel that wealth of information through a mic the size of a pin, and produce a tinny, compressed, clipped xerox copy. It cannot capture the warm fuzzies of a great performance. It would be like watching your favorite movie, but you're only able to see one color... Godfather in Blue. Who wants that?

(DON'T) BRING THE NOISE

The other thing to take into account is that if you're recording in a crowd, the people around you are much closer to the mic, so their conversations and screams, the sounds of them moshing, or the sounds of them talking smack on the band, are going to compete with the sounds coming from the stage.

You'll also be introducing the handling noise from the recordist fumbling around with the device, something that drives me absolutely nuts. If you set the recording device on a table or chair, you could also be introducing a whole new form of unpleasantness as the sound bounces off of the surface and into the mic.

PUT YOUR MUSIC IN THE RIGHT HANDS

If you really do want to record your show, there's a gigantic difference between trusting an experienced sound tech who's familiar with your type of music, and is using a 32-channel digital rig with high end mics and preamps, as opposed to using a camcorder held by your best friend. And, if you've got a soundguy who REALLY knows what they're doing, they'll probably have the ability to throw the tracks they capture into a sound editor (like ProTools or Reaper) and work some magic on what they recorded. Generally speaking, that's the kind of thing you're used to hearing on live albums. It's a lot of work, and a lot of expensive gear. Can your little camera compete with that?

There's some additional thoughts to consider, but due to time constraints, we'll have to save that for next week.

(If you like what you've read, please share or quote freely. I appreciate your support.)

Are You Ripping Off Other Artists? (The Answer is Yes)

Whenever my band and I are working on new songs, we'll play through some chords, and I'll hum whatever melody pops into my mind. Without fail, my lead guitar player Matt will say "that sounds just like that song from so and so." It absolutely kills my creative flow, and I usually have a mini-meltdown and insult him as revenge. But guess what? I need to get over it. And if you ever find yourself experiencing something similar, so do you. Why? 

Because, in the words of director Jim Jarmusch: 

"Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination... ...things that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic." Here's the best part: "Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent." 

Jarmusch then quotes director Jean-Luc Godard who said:

"It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to." 

Now, Jarmusch and Godard are two men who have created some of the most "original" films in the history of cinema, and their statements perfectly translate to the music industrial complex. Take this quote from Woodie Guthrie: 

"The words are the important thing. Don't worry about tunes. Take a tune, sing high when they sing low, sing fast when they sing slow, and you've got a new tune." 

Everything a human creates is built on the foundation of the people who came before you. If you genuinely believe the work you've created is original, that means you need to listen to more music, because eventually, you're going to come across a song that gives you a sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize that, yeah, someone else did it first. 

There's a famous saying: "good artists copy; great artists steal." I'd like to give credit to whoever came up with that quote, but, if you do a little research, you'll find that it has a long history of different forms and variants that are attributed to several famous creators. The reality is, we have no idea who ACTUALLY said it in the first place. 

And when you come down to the core definition of art, that's really what it is - a copy of a copy of a copy. We're all stealing. We just use a nicer word for it: "inspiration." If you really want to find the original author of anything you've done, at some point, you'll come to a pre-human who saw a painting that another pre-human made, and was "inspired" to recreate it. He may have changed his version slightly, but the idea wasn't truly is. 

Let's look at two more quotes. In a brilliant TED Talk that helped to inspire this post, Kirby Ferguson says: 

"Creativity comes from without, not from within." 

My advice to you as a creator is, embrace your complete lack of originality. Reject the myth that you're only an artist if you're "original." Here's one last quote... Derek Sivers, the creator of CDBaby, one of the most successful businesses in the music industrial complex said:

"Humans are imperfect mirrors... you know that song you love, that you wish you wrote? Copy it. ...even if you try to imitate something, it will turn out much different than the original. Maybe better."  

There are trillions of songs at this point, and there are probably trillions of humans throughout history who have created all kinds of art for the entirety of human civilization. There are millions of other rock bands, millions of other acoustic singer-songwriters, rappers, even re-mixers, all making music every day for the past however many years. You literally cannot create something new. It has all been done. And that's okay. 

Let's face it: Bob Dylan ripped off Woodie Guthrie. The Beatles ripped off American blues. Your parents ripped off the Beatles in their high school garage bands, and you'll rip off the things you listen to. That's okay. We should all accept this fact as a community of creators, and just get on with our lives. 

Take your inspiration from everywhere, ANYWHERE. Go to art museums, go to festivals, go to your grandmother's house, and translate the things you experience through your artistic filter. And the next time someone says to you, "that sounds like that song from 'Radiohead' or whoever..." own it! "It's a great song, and it inspired me. If YOU want to copy it, go ahead!" 


(If you like what you've read, please share or quote freely. I appreciate your support.)