How I Philosophically Changed My Approach to Songwriting
For context, it might be helpful to first read the previous entry, How Logic Pro X Changed How I Write Music.
After recording I’m Not Enough & That’s Okay, I didn’t know what to do next. I did know that no one cared about my music. I didn’t have any budget to promote it and I didn’t have any desire to start playing shows. I didn’t even really have any desire to play those songs again. I felt like I needed to make that record, and now that I had, I had closed some kind of door on that chapter of my artistic life. So, other than the dozen people who I call family and friends, no one cared.
I did know two things: (1) I had some good fragments of songs from experiments I had done, or things I had stumbled upon, and (2) because no one cared, I could do whatever I wanted.
And damn, that felt good.
The Approach
I decided that I would just explore sounds and if a good song came from it, I’d release it. If I had some that fit together, great, but if not, I’d release it as a single. I’m not looking for a career in the modern world of playlists and disposable art. If something hits, fine. If not, this is what I do so I’m going to do it.
Everyone who knows me knows I’m a Nick Cave Stan. Especially from about thirty onward. While I had long been a fan, seeing him twice at Coachella in 2013, both with Grinderman and the Bad Seeds, changed the way I thought about things. I didn’t see myself in that light at the time, and maybe I’m not even fit to stand in his artistic shadow now, but it won’t be for lack of effort. I hated performing, but if the opportunity presents, I need to step into that fear and anxiety. I felt like I had to write a certain way in order to protect myself from criticism or those who wouldn’t understand. I knew now I had to step into that fear. I had to start viewing myself as an artist and not just as a songwriter. It’s okay if no one gets it. It’s fine.
Nick’s records, starting with Warren Ellis taking a more prominent role in songwriting, have really given me permission to do this. Push the Sky Away and continuing on, this was what I wanted to do. Not clone him, but make something that I put all of myself into, not just part of myself. Watching him on film multiple times over the last decade as he makes records and puts his life out there for us to observe, it’s been endlessly inspiring.
I was/am still using somewhat of a traditional structure for songs musically, but only as some bones to flesh out. I have paid no attention to the length of songs or how many choruses or how wordy the lyrics are. If I like the minute and a half intro, it stays. If it bores me, I cut it. My first concern is, “Does this sound like how I feel?” and then, “Does this need anything else? If so, what?” I try not to add anything that doesn’t need to be there. Don’t play notes that aren’t asking to be played.
Lyrically, the approach is the same. “What do I have to say?” or “Does it need to be said?” Sometimes, those answers are “nothing” and “no”. Sometimes I have a line that’s good and I just file it away in my notes and leave it for a time when I know what it means.
In Practice
Because I wrote more traditionally, I was always concerned with meter and rhyme, but no longer. I still find myself reaching for rhymes, old habits die hard, but I don’t let not finding one stop me anymore. Because I am now writing words and music completely separate, if a lyric isn’t finished, but what I have fits a particular piece of music, I can sit there and work on where the song wants me to take it. Often the music gives me permission to say less, which for all who know me, is not something I’m so good at on my own.
Nick Cave said in his most recent book with Sean O’Hagen, Faith, Hope and Carnage, that he often sees his songs. He has visions. Not with his eyes, but in his mind. I sometimes have this as well. I can see a scene in my mind and I try to paint that scene with words and music for others to hear. It’s not about telling you about it, I want you to see it too. My desire for you to see this is greater than my need to fit the audio painting onto any certain size of canvas. Maybe there’s no need for a chorus, just a refrain. Maybe it’s just a few details presented in verses that support the chorus as the focal point of the song. The bridge is just there for context or perspective.
At the end of the day, just write it down. Whether it’s one phrase or a Kerouac style novella from a vomiting of words, just write it down. If it sucks, the delete button will always be there for you, but don’t edit while you write, edit later.
In Summary
Every artist needs limitations. Necessity is the mother of invention. However, be wary not to limit yourself too much. I once read, after the release of Bloodflowers, that Robert Smith had limited himself to a range of 10 bpm and 2 keys to write in. Personally, I don’t know if I could do that or not, but then again, I do tend to work around 60 bpm and 120 bpm and in the keys of G, D and C (C most likely started on the piano!).
My reward is no longer in the finished product, but in the work itself. My reward is the absolute joy and peace I get from sitting in a dark room at the keyboard. I seek no one’s acceptance or validation. I am free from the expectations of others. In this ever-accelerating world of anxiety, my mind is free to do what it pleases in the background. At best, something floats to the surface with a sense of urgency and it gives me something to work on. At worst, I simply get up and walk away a little better of a man than the one who sat down there a few hours before.
The goal is making the best music I can make. The goal is spending as much time as I can working on that music. Once I hand them off for mixing and mastering, I get an opinion, and after that, they’re free. I can spend time and money marketing them, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor obviously, but whatever time I spend doing that is time I’m not being creative. I have almost no control over whether or not I’m successful, as viewed by the world. But I am successful in the only way that matters. I do it.
JC