Some cool folks I'd like to share!

First of all, I'm just thrilled that my blog and articles seem to be circulating...I'm hearing from people from all over and it's very gratifying! So here are some links to some fine folks who have featured my work and I want to acknowledge them as well.

GuitarPlayerZen: great guitar resource with new articles posted regularly.

Guitar9 Records: a home on the web for shredders everywhere:

And here's my new friend Anne and her site My Guitar Buddies.

I'm told there's other stuff getting out there, but I'll make the announcements when the articles are posted. In the meantime, thanks for reading and for spreading the word!

Songwriting And Rhythmic Identity

(As published in Susan Tucker's Songwriters E-Tip Newsletter of 7/19/08. Subscribe by sending an email to songconnection@aol.com)


I’ve focused a lot in my articles about rhythm and how important it is in songwriting. Previous posts have established that having a wide rhythmic vocabulary can diversify the sound of a writer's catalog and allow you to pitch to a variety of artists and markets.

As a musician that plays multiple styles, my contributions in a cowriting session often lean more towards the musical than the lyrical....I’m not the type of writer that keeps a journal or a book of ideas. (Perhaps I ought to start, but that’s another matter). And we know that every cowriting situation is different....sometimes you start on an idea from scratch, sometimes one writer has a verse or a chorus, or even more. Perhaps one writer even has a song completely written but feels it’s missing something. This opens up a question....according to copyright law, a song is music and lyrics. So if your contribution in the session is a rhythmic idea that gives the song a new identity, does that constitute a cowrite even though copyright law doesn’t recognize it?

I do believe that every song needs a rhythmic identity of its own. There are songs that you’ll recognize instantly from a drum intro or a guitar lick before a note of melody is heard. If those musical contributions come from a session musician, that player doesn’t get a writing credit as a rule....but would Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl” be the same song without that distinctive guitar intro? Besides being hooky, the intro establishes the rhythmic framework of the song as the bass figure that follows is strongly related and supports the entire rest of the tune.

I do believe this constitutes a gray area, and it may be more a matter of courtesy than law. I’m not suggesting that session musicians are entitled to writing credits, because their contributions are considered more arrangement than composition, and copyright law as I understand it doesn’t cover arrangements. But in a cowriting session the dynamic is different. And Nashville courtesy as I understand it is that all parties present in a writing session are generally given equal credit for the song. So my answer to the question above is, yes.....rhythmic identity may not be recognized by copyright law but can be as important to a song as melody and lyric. And in my opinion this strengthens my initial assertion that it is in every songwriter’s best interest to have as wide a vocabulary as possible.

Serving The Muse: a lesson learned

I had a defining musical experience the summer after my junior year in college, a series of events that had a huge impact on my approach and philosophy. The lessons I learned over those two short weeks have stayed with me throughout my career because I do believe they illustrate a fundamental fact about music....and everything I've observed or learned since has only driven the point home.

The first week, I attended a well-established summer music program for six days of intensive class study with one of the foremost and most influential jazz guitarists in the world. Who it was is peripheral to the story....the relevant part is that the prospect of soaking up some of this man's knowledge drew guitarists from all over the world, all equally devoted to mastering the bebop style of jazz. Now, bebop is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult and complex languages in any genre of music, and I have tremendous respect for any musician on any instrument that can master it. But my interest in this workshop was more to broaden my musical horizons....I knew that this master teacher had worked with other musicians I admired that were not strictly jazzers but creative souls looking for a new approach.

Sadly, the master I had come to see suffered a debilitating illness and was unable to lead the class. The teacher who came in his stead was a wonderful substitute in that he himself had a complete and in-depth knowledge of the style himself and was at the same time probably a better communicator than the sometimes thorny genius we had all come to see. But I'm still relating peripheral details, as you'll see.....while I did get a lot out of the class, the great lesson I learned came later.

I was entering my fourth year of music school, studying classical guitar and practicing three to six hours a day. I was reading the journals of John Cage and Stravinsky and listening to Ornette Coleman and Keith Jarrett. In short, my head was full of high concepts and while I knew I had a lot to learn I felt I was thinking and playing on a highly sophisticated musical plane. But I also had the tendency towards hubris and the sense of invincibility of a young man in his early twenties, and I was about to be put squarely in my place.....by a bunch of middle-aged ex-hippies playing folk music.

I grew up on folk music and always had a love and appreciation for it...I still do. No amount of education will ever change the fact that the Clancy Brothers made me bawl like a baby singing "KillKelly" or that Jean Ritchie's "Black Waters" continues to give me goosebumps. So after my week in the rarified atmosphere of quartal chord voicings, the lydian flat 7 substitution, and post-tonal harmonic extensions, I went to "folk music week" at a summer retreat on Cape Cod. And here's where I learned my lesson: the folkies were better musicians.

Sounds like an audacious statement. Obviously the music they were playing was much simpler. But even though they played songs with three and four chords, they played with an authority that despite my training and supposed greater skill I was unable to match. And even more strikingly, fifteen or twenty people could sit in a circle making music together without stepping on each other. And I'm not talking about fifteen people strumming the same C chord and singing Kum-Ba-Ya.....I'm talking about a group of musicians listening to each other, each choosing their moment to contribute to the whole and then melting seamlessly back into the ensemble. Some able to play five or six instruments with equal authority and ease. Singing spontaneously in three and four and ten-part harmony. Knowing exactly how to listen to each other and blend into a harmonious whole.

Now, don't get me wrong. The masters of bebop and high-concept exploratory jazz who were teaching the first class I attended are musicians of the highest order. They DO possess listening skills and an understanding of harmony that is attained by few musicians in any style. But by and large the aspiring younger players who attended the class did not, myself included....and it was instructive to observe that while most of these guys (and it WAS mostly guys, another little detail that made folkie camp much more pleasant) could play every standard in the Real Book backwards and forwards, they still needed the book to know what to play. And two of them playing together often couldn't keep from stepping all over each other instead of blending to make music together. The ensemble class was a particularly grevious example, with near-cacophony threatening to take over until the instructor (who I hold in very high esteem and absolutely DOES "get it") pulled back the reins.

I don't mean to make a blanket indictment of jazz and jazz musicians. Great jazz players continue to be an inspiration to me, and in my opinion John Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" still stands as one of the most incredible recorded examples of master musicians tuning in to one another and together pushing their explorations into the stratosphere. But the lesson is this: it doesn't matter how many chords or scales you know if you can't listen to someone else play and complement it in some way. Vocabulary without proper context and the means to put it there is useless. I've hired sidemen who possess tremendous skill only to have them completely ruin a gig by overplaying and being more in love with their own ability than with the needs of the song.

Technique and vocabulary are wonderful in that they give you options. But artistry is in how you use what you know. These ideas aren't mutually exclusive but most musicians seem to come down on one side or the other. Here's what I think: technique and vocabulary are meant to function IN THE SERVICE of artistry. In other words, know how to authoritatively use what you've got. Then seek out new information and learn to use that properly. In this way your skills serve your muse instead of dictating your style....and as your abilities grow, your music grows along with them.

Hear Beyond Your Instrument

I often hear songwriters say that their goal on the guitar or piano is to play "just well enough to write songs". I think what they mean is that they don't want to learn to play things that aren't going to impact their songwriting, but I think it misses a point. (First of all, I think everything can impact your writing, but that's a topic for another article). What we really want to be focused on is not the vocabulary in your fingers but the vocabulary in your head. So today I'd like introduce a way you can broaden that vocabulary without even touching an instrument, and it's as simple as opening your ears.

A core element of any formal music education is something called "ear training". This is the process by which we learn to identify and categorize sounds....melodies (notes in sequence), intervals (distances between notes) and chords (notes that sound simultaneously). While an instrument can be a helpful reference in this process it can also get in the way, by keeping your mind on your fingers and visual relationships rather than on your ears and aural (heard) relationships. So we're going to use our ears and voice as the primary instruments, and use the guitar or keyboard as a reference. Keep in mind that this is not about being a vocalist, so it doesn't matter if you're a strong singer or not. The idea is to use the voice to establish a direct connection to what I'll call your inner ear....."inner" not in the anatomical sense but the musical one.

For the purposes of this exercise you will need to work from an existing song, preferably one you didn't write. It could be on your computer, an I-Pod, or a CD, but most importantly you should be able to move easily from one part of the song to another.

Listen through the entire song and sketch out the form or "map" of the tune. As a writer you should already be familiar with the basic structural elements of song form: verse, lift/pre-chorus/ channel, chorus, and perhaps a bridge, intro, interlude, or outro.
Your map should list all of these sections in the order they appear.

Now listen through the song again. Since we've established where the primary sections are, this time we're listening for a greater level of detail. See if you can figure out how long each section lasts, and more importantly how many times you hear the chords change within each section. This is where the voice comes in: see if you can sing along, but instead of singing the melody try to sing along with the bass or primary rhythm instrument. Note that it doesn't matter whether your voice is low or high, the point is not to match the exact pitch but to give you the clearest outline of when the chords change. More often than not, the note played by the bass or rhythm guitar will be the note that names the chord (called the "root').

If you find that you're having difficulty finding the notes with your voice, try listening to just a small section at a time. You may end up listening to only a couple of beats before you stop the music, but that's OK. With repeated attempts you should be able to zero in on the basic "chord changes" for each section, and once you can sing along you can move to your instrument and try to find the notes you're singing. Don't worry about whether you can find the complete chord that goes with each change.....all we're trying to do in this case is to identify one note for each chord. If you can, fill in these notes on your map or "chord chart", and then see if you can find a pattern to the order the chords appear in.

What we're ultimately trying to accomplish is make your ear aware of chords and how they fit together. The more adept you become at this, the more possible options you'll have open to you in your writing, as you start to hear chord changes in your inner ear that your fingers haven't yet learned. Using the voice to guide the way we can sketch out the basic direction of the chord changes, and then use a chord dictionary (or ask a more skilled player) to suggest some possible options that might fit what you're hearing. This way of thinking should open your ears and broaden your horizons musically, so that when you sit with your instrument you can follow what you hear in your head. This is what it means to hear beyond your instrument: to be limited only by your imagination instead of by your fingers.