So here’s the deal…

A couple of months back, I released my second record in as many years (third in as many years if you count the Already Taken record—and you should), and I really should be doing things to promote that. And I still think I will. That’s on the agenda.

But I am not a promoter. I’m a musician and a writer. I make music, and I write stuff. So, naturally, I’m already starting to think about—and write for—the next project. I do have, of course, a jillion songs from the past that I can and want to record… but I always want to be working on new stuff. Even when I had slow periods in my musical life where I didn’t have any outlet for anything I was writing, I kept writing nonetheless. That’s how you end up with a backlog of songs a-plenty, I suppose. But mostly, it’s just what I do. I once read something that said, “Why do writers write? Because they have to.” I think this applies to any type of writing, including songwriting. Anyway…

I remember when I was a young, young child, maybe 4 or 5, making an early observation about how many songs were about “love” and/or contained the word “love” in the title. I think it’s funny that that was such an early “5-year-old epiphany” for me, because I can’t really remember off the top of my head of any songs I’ve written that have the word “love” in the title. And yet, these first two songs in this new batch both do! Sort of… they have derivations of the word.

The songs are called “Song for an Unknown Lover” and “Loved by the World.” They’re not done, but they’re getting there; they’re starting to take shape.

Here’s how it usually works with me:

It’s usually a series of steps that a song has to pass through before it’s finished. And it can be aborted at any time.

It usually starts with an acoustic guitar and me trying to come up with a good vocal melody. Sometimes I have chords first, but usually not. The chords and the vocal melody are usually developed at the same time because one relies on the other. They have to work together, right? I can’t write a killer melody and then play completely different chords that have nothing to do with that vocal line… and vice versa.

If I feel like nothing is happening, that’s where it ends for that particular day. I put the guitar down, shake my head, and go do something else. It’s the musical equivalent of walking back to the dugout after taking a few swings and striking out.

Sometimes, though, I’ll sort of like what I’m coming up with. It’s rough, it’s embryonic at this point, but I’ll feel like there is something there. If that’s the case, I pick up my phone and record it on the “voice memos” app so I won’t forget it. (In the old days, this was a boom box cassette I’d record it on, if you go back that far. And in between, there were other things… The point is that the technology changes over time, but the process seems pretty consistent.) Sometimes I have some rough lyrics done; other times, I’m just scat singing or making up words on the spot simply to help create a musical plan of sorts.

Now that the rough “just remember this idea” is put down, it serves another purpose besides the intent of simple recollection. It allows me to listen with fresh ears at a future time. Sometimes that’s later that night before I go to bed. Sometimes it’s the next day. Sometimes it’s the next week. Sometimes it’s months later. Sometimes I completely forget about it and even rediscover it years later and think, “Hmm… I think I can work on this old idea…”

Anyway, whenever that is, I’ll pull it up and try to flesh it out more. If I have any lyrics, I’ll try to refine them or add to them. I’ll come up with other parts, because more than 9 times out of 10, the first “get the idea down” recording is just one or two parts—a verse, a chorus, etc.—but almost never the whole thing.

So at this point, I try to make the song grow, and I’ll usually end up with 3 or 4 versions of the same concept described above, all living in the voice memos section of my phone—each one advanced just slightly more than the one before it. They’re all still super rough. They usually contain multiple passes of me attempting to get the ideas down, and they frequently include me cursing on the recording and getting annoyed when things go wrong (a dropped pick, a botched chord, a lyric sheet falling on the floor while I’m trying to read it, whatever…).

On the subject of things like the aforementioned lyric sheet falling to the ground, it’s common for me to stumble like that, because when I get focused on the musical idea, everything else shits the bed. Sometimes the guitar is out of tune because I don’t feel like interrupting myself for 10 seconds to go get the tuner; I don’t have a proper notebook because I would rather write on whatever scrap I can find; and I certainly perform acts where I balance that lyric scrap of paper on piles of clutter and crap in the studio, not a proper stand or desk. I’m not saying it’s a good way to work, but I have to admit it’s what I do. Ironic, because I’m a very organized person in my approach to most things, but when I’m in this particular creative mode, that all goes out the window for me.

Anyway… as I live with this succession of recordings over the coming days, I may start to get excited by what I hear… or not. If not, then it’s over. Aborted. At least until I come across it in the future and have more ideas on how to further it.

But if I do like what I’m hearing, it usually gets to a point where I open a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) and record the basic scratch parts in tracks, so I can play the music without singing simultaneously and then sing over it later, or sing harmonies to myself. I’m still fleshing out ideas, but arrangements are coming together, and I now have a project file I can work with, instead of just recording into my phone anew each time.

That’s where I am with these two songs tonight; that’s the point in the process we’re at. Which is still very early in the game, all things considered. We’re still not past the point where I might scrap the song. I’m still making recordings that are not designed for anyone except me to hear. It’s just a more workable canvas I have now to massage the idea further.

But they’re getting close at this point to having a set arrangement and parts and being something that can be considered a completed, if not fully produced, song. When the basic chords, the lyrics, the melody, and the arrangement are set, you have a song. It might not be a good one, and it might need a lot more polish, but it’s been born. It’s arrived. We’re not there yet with these two new songs, but we’re close.

After that, there will be lots of refinements, lots more work on coming up with musical parts beyond the basic chord structure (guitar leads and breaks, for example), vocal harmonies, etc. There will be more realized demos with full instrumentation. They’ll still be rough recordings, but demos in the literal sense of the word: DEMOnstration Pieces to share with bandmates, musicians, recording engineers, etc. to help communicate ideas. It’s like a spring training baseball game—it’s not the one that counts for anything yet, and it’s still just a practice run and has that feel and approach, but it is looking more like what the real game is going to be.

And after all that is done—if it gets that far—it still might land in the “throwaway” pile: a song that sits on the shelf, not played too much by any band I’m in, not chosen to be recorded, etc.

Which, I guess, is why a songwriter should keep on writing. It’s about having a catalog of work, a canon of creations, not any one piece.