Thus, on the verge of recording, they must wear, or choose someone to wear the cap called “producer”. The producer’s job is to keep the song on course as it navigates the recording process, so it begins by asking the hard questions:

What is the essence of the song?

What is its style?

What is its structure and flow?

Are there definable parts, like chorus, verses, and bridges, and where do they begin/end?

What/who are the instruments and do they uphold the essence of the song?

These definitions guide the recording process, providing the producer (me, in this case) with a strong sense of the song so recording sessions run efficiently. The more people involved, the more creative energies there are to direct. Direction is key. Without it, my sessions would be a waste.

The production process tends to submerge a song into the sea of hands who all want a part in its journey-changing it for the better or destroying its true nature. That’s why I’m inviting you, the listener, to be apart of my songs; but I’d like to show you how to listen, in hopes that you will better appreciate all music.
A recording is a captured moment-and unlike a live performance, cannot draw upon the energies of others–so let that moment be what it is, and let its effect on you be known.

Motif’s Guide to Song Critique. Best if Used Immediately After Listening.

Tell me about the music video….any other visuals?

Would you give the song a second listen? If no, why not?

First impressions are stains that rarely lift, but an open listener knows that art evolves. Your critique allows these songs to develop and grow, so let it be constructive, and let it desire the best for the song. Remember that roughs are not perfect and I do not boast exceptional vocal nor instrumental talent. I’m really looking for whether or not the song’s emotion rings true within you. Feel free to add any other information you deem helpful, so long that it is specific and personal.

Though I ran my songs through this first phase of production, I realize that not all decisions are final, especially when they’re still labeled “rough”. So dig in, if you please, and try out motif music from the producer’s chair. Ask yourself to be precise in your response–remember, without a specific direction, we’re no closer to our destination of a final recording! Motif’s ongoing creativity loves your support! Thanks for it!

p.s. Lyrics are always helpful references for producers. I like to print them out and write on them. If you find inconsistencies in what you hear and what you read, let me know!

The clarity of song’s message depends on the same creative control–choosing a direction and sticking to it! Knowing what your song is about, where it ends up, and what it means will show through in your writing. Songs with a clear direction will make a lot more sense to listeners than a hodgepodge group of ideas.

Do you connect with songs you don’t get? Probably not. What about songs you can understand and relate to? Those are the keepers, aren’t they?

For a while, I liked to let my song run free even in its structure. I left a lot open to interpretation, which I thought was very multi-dimensional; however, listeners only found it confusing.

It can be tough to find and keep your direction; you get distracted by pretty (or ugly) thoughts along the way and soon enough you’re down some backroad you don’t remember turning onto!

At those moments, it’s helpful to put down my brain and write with feeling. Taking a few minutes to jot down ideas frees your mind to focus on what you’re really writing about.  I know if another paper doesn’t hold my ideas for me, I’ll waste energy trying to include them in my current writing–which ends up confusing my audience. But if I pause and empty my thought tank, I can track down my direction and write with purpose.

Simple Steps to Stimulating Songs (and anything else for that matter…)

Ask your brain:

-What is my purpose-why am I writing?

-What message or emotion am I expressing-what do I want to say?

-How do I want to convey my message/emotion? Should I use a metaphor? A story? Wit?

-How will the listener to respond? Do I want to endear my listeners or raise their eyebrows; stir up sadness or excitement; foster curiosity or awareness, etc…?

The essence of art weighs the shoulders of the artist, who without direction or goal will surely crumple under all his possibilities.

-Nola Forthwrite

Sure, it allows us to stay connected, market ourselves, etc; but how connected do you really need to be? And do people really need to be apart of your every thought? And do you need to be apart of mine?

I can read tweets on the computer, along with my emails, facebook crap, and RSS feeds, which already feels like too much to keep up with–so why have am I sending it all to my phone? So it can plague me 24/7?! Do I not have better things to do? Plans, housework, maybe even HANGING OUT with tweet-heads I follow? I think I do. </ RANT>
…
In all the madness, my frustration distracts me from writing because I get worn out. My personality resists processing so much stimulation. In a heavy-traffic lifestyle, it’s vital to stop and catch up with ourselves.
Do you remember breathing in your day? Probably not, since it’s something we do so involuntarily that we needn’t even consider it. But I tend to think about breathing a lot.

Here’s my reasoning:

Breath is life, right? You must inhale and exhale to live; you must inhale and exhale slowly not to stress your body.

Thought is apart of life, right? You must think to reason; you must control your thought not to stress your mind.

Anything that strips me of my breath control or mental control is probably something I don’t have energy for.

When you consider that breathing and thinking take up most of our time (because everything else kind of relies on them), doesn’t it seem silly that we don’t take time to think about our breath or mental state? Doesn’t it seem silly that we knowingly stress our bodies and minds by recklessly (and knowingly) plowing through life?

You’ll never appreciate what happens in a moment, and therefore never accurately describe it, if you never experience your own moments. Taking time to be still, breathe, and control your thoughts is essential to writing, focusing your mind and body on the moment’s task.

Songwriting is about expanding the physical senses and emotions of these moments so the audience feels like they’re apart of them. So chill out for a few and take it in. If it helps you to call it work, preparation for a future gig, or research, then you probably need to clear out for a spell (I suggest enjoying a tasty beverage somewhere serene!)… at least till play becomes pleasurable again. ;)

To avoid that bewilderment in our discussions of music and songwriting, we need a common vocabulary.

Lyrics on a page and notations in sheet music are symbols that represent song, just like letters represent sounds in our language. Though some differ dramatically, most song lyrics follow a standard structure:

Verse 1 (V1):

A steady rain is falling on your monogrammed umbrella

under which you write your last letter to me

Pre-med stationary is just lines on a page

and the answers for your silence are diagnosis made

from your books, from your new life

You’ll run away from me, crying as you go

and you’ll cry yourself to sleep every night you’re alone, but baby

A verse is a group of lyrical phrases used to set up the main idea and feeling of the song.
Verses are typically found before and after the chorus.

Chorus (Cho.):

If you let me

I will come to where you are

Even though I hate the weather

Sunny skies are so much better

But
 if you let me

I will bear Seattle’s gray

Just to see your face

If you let me
The chorus is the repeated lines that emphasize the main idea of the song. The most memorable line, or “hook”, is found in the chorus, bringing the listener back to the central thought or feeling in the song, and sinking the hook in deeper!
Verse 2 (V2):

A steady fire is reaching to the endless desert sky

under which you write your last of love to me

Combat letter paper is scarred brown with dust and rage

and hopes for our tomorrow are sad presumptions made

From this fight, from loss of life

You’ll run away from me, crying as you go

and you’ll cry yourself to sleep every night you’re alone

Notice there are common lines at the end of each verse, beginning with “you’ll run away from me/crying as you go”. This “prechorus” draws attention to the upcoming chorus. If you played the song in the sidebar, you’ll notice that the melody heightens with the prechorus, starting the music’s swing into the chorus.

Chorus:

If you let me

I will come to where you are

Even though I hate the weather

Cooler days are so much better

But 
If you let me

I will bear the ashy rain

Just to see your face

If you let me

Notice that each chorus is a little different. If you let me is pretty narrative (story-like), so it was fitting for me to lyrically sync each chorus with the verse (or bridge) above it.
Bridge:

What if we don’t survive and can’t go on

Will I still find you here to hold me in your arms?

Even if you have dreams you can’t see beyond

I will be here to love you when they’re said and done

When it’s all said and done

The bridge is a connection piece for songs that have a little more to say, or lose ends to tie. It arrives late in the song, serving the final thought before the final chorus.

Chorus:

If you let me

I will come to where you are

Even though I hate the weather

Life with you is so much better

If you let me

I will bear whatever comes our way

Just to see your face

If you let me

If the chorus changes throughout the song, the final chorus will wrap them up, bringing the song to a close. Here, all the talk about weather is summed up in the final thought: that life with the ones you love is more important than insignificant circumstances. It’s an awfully nice thought, don’t you think?

In an Origins post, I mentioned that form and structure developed later than song itself. Talking about a song’s structure, lyrics, or melody is like talking about plans for the weekend–they framework the experience to come, but they are not the experience.

That said, don’t get hung up on them! Write out your ideas before chopping them up into verses. Structure is a helpful tool, but as the writer you must let your song run free until it knows what it’s about and what it might like to become. Once you have direction, it’s much easier to distinguish your verses from your choruses, etc…

As I observe the trends in popular music, I can appreciate this striking metaphor about shoving our creativity into specific structures, just so it’s acceptable to critics. (If you have to read it twice, read it twice!):

In our modern days, we too often make our ideas to fit the forms. We put our guest, the poetic thought, that comes to us like a homing bird from out the mystery of the blue sky – we put this confiding stranger straightway into that iron bed, the “sonata form,” or perhaps even the third rondo form, for we have quite an assortment. Should the idea survive and grow too large for the bed, and if we have learned to love it too much to cut off its feet and thus make it fit, why do we run the risk of having some critic wise in his theoretical knowledge, say, as was and is said of Chopin, “He is weak in sonata form!” (1912)

Emotion is our reaction to the world we experience through our senses.  If our emotion is passionate, we speak, or yell, sing, or sob, depending on the emotion. We understand what these sounds mean, just as the tribes knew what their chants meant. As it gains meaning and feeling, sound becomes song, especially in nature.

The world around us is not quiet, even in the most far off places, because life does not reside solely under the skin, but in nature’s interactions: the “plop” of a nut as it falls into a pond, the symphony of raindrops on a lake, wind’s movement through tree leaves, the screech of cricket wings at night…these are nature’s song!

Song is an expression of sounds that have a beginning and end, and it still communicates emotion. What we consider “song” today traveled a long road, from ancient times when people listened and sang to nature, through strict religious purposes, to entertainment (and its business) as we know it today.

As humanity developed, we structured our traditions and ideas, giving them names (“song”), categories (“music”), and form (“iambic pentameter”). When we started writing with these structures in mind, we built a stereotype for song, which is probably why most of us think tribal chants sound like noise. Go figure, right?

Today, try opening your mind to all of life’s song. Don’t hear it as noise, but as nature’s melody in your ears! Who knows, you might like it…