Wired Differently
(this article first appeared in the Songwriters Connection E-Tip, 10/31/10)
These thoughts were prompted by a recent article in the the Songwriters E-Tip on the role of business people in the entertainment industry. Let me make it clear at the outset that I mean no disrespect to the author and his perspective. In fact, he presents a very clear and direct case for why creative people need a business team: people to focus on the business of “branding”, marketing, promoting, and creating income streams from creative work. As an artist or songwriter these people are essential in that they free up YOUR time to allow you to do what you want and love to do: create.
However, one phrase in the article jumped out at me:
"Let's face it: creative people are not always the best business people. Their brains are wired differently. That's part of why they are great writers, singers or entertainers. But there aren't many really good business people who are great writers, singers or entertainers.”
I won't even dispute the first sentence, it's one of those cliches that has been proven to be true again and again. But from my own experience as a self-managed artist for fifteen years (not to mention the spectacular failures at the uppermost levels of big business in America), I can confidently say there are plenty of business people who are not the best business people. But no one ever says that those people are “wired” differently, only that they made mistakes. And as far as the last sentence is concerned, I think Kenny Chesney, Jay-Z, or Madonna might disagree. The music world is full of artists with excellent business skills.
We are conditioned from a very young age to believe that creative talent is a gift that is given to some and not others. But in many traditional societies around the world, making music is a communal experience, not something that belongs to the talented few. We are divided from the moment we enter school as small children into “talented” and “non-talented”, and that division has a lifelong impact on the way we see ourselves. I have heard many clients say that they aren't “talented”, automatically limiting their growth potential and closing doors they simply could have chosen to walk through.
Make no mistake: there is no question that some people are more naturally gifted than others, in music, mathematics, basketball, sales, or physics. It has been demonstrated that different parts of the brain control different aspects of cognition, and that most of us are more highly developed in some areas than others. Guitar came relatively easily to me at first, but I remember struggling to coordinate a lay-up in a pickup basketball game. That DOESN'T mean that I couldn't have learned to coordinate that move competently...or that my friends who seemed so effortless on the court but couldn't play or sing would never be able to do so. But we most often gravitate to the things that come most easily...it's often more gratifying to not have to struggle. On the other hand, though, a hard-won struggle is VERY gratifying. The point is that, consciously or unconsciously, we choose the areas we want to develop in our lives.
I've often felt that I didn't choose music, but that it chose me. However, when it came time to learn to understand royalties, advances, profit and loss, ROI, and risk vs. return, I learned to comprehend those things. My “differently wired” brain didn't prevent me from understanding how a record label functions, or from learning to be savvy enough to not be taken advantage of (that's a big one, folks).
YES, having a good business team – and a good business PLAN – is key to success. But it is imperative that artists and songwriters learn about the business in order to protect themselves. Armed with this knowledge, you can choose the best team to help to achieve your goal. Above all, never believe, or allow anyone to convince you, that being a creative artist means that you can't – or shouldn't – understand the business you're in.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Musicians are like dogs.
First of all, a disclaimer: as a musician and dog lover myself, I mean for that statement to be a little flip. But there’s real truth there, and understanding this will make every one of your interactions with musicians go more smoothly onstage, in rehearsal, or in the studio.
Put aside the obvious jokes about shedding and the desire to be loved. To musicians, “shedding” means practicing, as in “going out to the woodshed to practice”… and we all want to be loved, right? This article is really about leadership, and how to get what you want as an artist from the musicians you work with.
Here’s the key point: if you don’t know what you want or how to communicate it, you won’t get it. Whether you see yourself as an “entertainer/front-person” or not, if you perform supported by others you are the focal point on stage to both the audience and the band. Not just visually as the person in the center, but in terms of onstage dynamics….everything that happens onstage is led in some way by your body language and explicit or implicit direction. The leader of every ensemble gathers and channels the energy of the band: like the lead dog in a sled race, you point the way and move the group ahead.
First and foremost, know how to give cues. You want to be able to let the band know when you’re about to sing, when sections of the song will change, and when and how to end. Most of this is worked out in rehearsal or written into the charts, but even so you need to be able to take the reins onstage. There’s lots of ways to do this, and you can find one that suits your performing style. When James Brown screamed out “take it to the bridge!” it sounded cool and fit perfectly with his vocal style, but he was also telling the band to go to the next section of the song.
If you’re a songwriter you already understand the importance of song form and structure, but you may not have thought much about the parts of the song that don’t involve a lyric. It’s important to be able to FEEL how long an 8-bar intro is, or know what the words “turnaround” or “tag” mean to musicians. Be clear on whether you start right with the band or whether they play an intro. If they do play an intro, know how long it lasts and when your vocal is supposed to begin. Know what key you sing the song in, and how to “count off” the tempo at the beginning to show how fast or slow you want it. Even better, learn to read and write charts, or at least learn how to follow the form or “map” of a tune from a chart. You don’t have to know more than a tiny bit of music theory, just a few basic principles (starting with how to count to four!) If you can do that, you’re already on your way.
Being solidly in command of these things allows you to speak the same language as the musicians who back you. This will not only earn you more respect but make them enjoy working with you more. Like dogs, most musicians are happiest when they know exactly what is expected of them….which means you need to be able to communicate effectively.
There’s a flip side of this, though….you shouldn’t need to micro-manage players to get what you want. If your directions are clear and you are in command of your role as leader, good musicians will know what to do and deliver what you need. If that’s not happening, you may not be working with the right people. Some dogs are stubborn and hard to lead. Some lack the training necessary to understand the commands. It’s not up to you to do the training, but to assess the personality and skill level of the people you work with. A skilled person accustomed to leading who is not receiving clear direction may quickly grow frustrated. A skilled side player accustomed to following will expect to be led or they won’t be able to deliver what you need. Happy musicians play better, bring more energy, and raise the level of the whole experience for you, them, and the audience. Just like happy dogs.
Put aside the obvious jokes about shedding and the desire to be loved. To musicians, “shedding” means practicing, as in “going out to the woodshed to practice”… and we all want to be loved, right? This article is really about leadership, and how to get what you want as an artist from the musicians you work with.
Here’s the key point: if you don’t know what you want or how to communicate it, you won’t get it. Whether you see yourself as an “entertainer/front-person” or not, if you perform supported by others you are the focal point on stage to both the audience and the band. Not just visually as the person in the center, but in terms of onstage dynamics….everything that happens onstage is led in some way by your body language and explicit or implicit direction. The leader of every ensemble gathers and channels the energy of the band: like the lead dog in a sled race, you point the way and move the group ahead.
First and foremost, know how to give cues. You want to be able to let the band know when you’re about to sing, when sections of the song will change, and when and how to end. Most of this is worked out in rehearsal or written into the charts, but even so you need to be able to take the reins onstage. There’s lots of ways to do this, and you can find one that suits your performing style. When James Brown screamed out “take it to the bridge!” it sounded cool and fit perfectly with his vocal style, but he was also telling the band to go to the next section of the song.
If you’re a songwriter you already understand the importance of song form and structure, but you may not have thought much about the parts of the song that don’t involve a lyric. It’s important to be able to FEEL how long an 8-bar intro is, or know what the words “turnaround” or “tag” mean to musicians. Be clear on whether you start right with the band or whether they play an intro. If they do play an intro, know how long it lasts and when your vocal is supposed to begin. Know what key you sing the song in, and how to “count off” the tempo at the beginning to show how fast or slow you want it. Even better, learn to read and write charts, or at least learn how to follow the form or “map” of a tune from a chart. You don’t have to know more than a tiny bit of music theory, just a few basic principles (starting with how to count to four!) If you can do that, you’re already on your way.
Being solidly in command of these things allows you to speak the same language as the musicians who back you. This will not only earn you more respect but make them enjoy working with you more. Like dogs, most musicians are happiest when they know exactly what is expected of them….which means you need to be able to communicate effectively.
There’s a flip side of this, though….you shouldn’t need to micro-manage players to get what you want. If your directions are clear and you are in command of your role as leader, good musicians will know what to do and deliver what you need. If that’s not happening, you may not be working with the right people. Some dogs are stubborn and hard to lead. Some lack the training necessary to understand the commands. It’s not up to you to do the training, but to assess the personality and skill level of the people you work with. A skilled person accustomed to leading who is not receiving clear direction may quickly grow frustrated. A skilled side player accustomed to following will expect to be led or they won’t be able to deliver what you need. Happy musicians play better, bring more energy, and raise the level of the whole experience for you, them, and the audience. Just like happy dogs.
You might be more musical than you think.
We all have strengths and weaknesses as writers, and as we learn what they are we often begin to seek out co-writers who are stronger in the areas where we are less skilled ourselves. A writer who is primarily a lyricist will seek out strong musicians, and vice versa. This can be a very effective way to work, and there have been iconic lyricist-composer teams throughout the history of popular music…from the Gershwin brothers to Rodgers & Hammerstein, Leiber & Stoller, and John & Taupin.
A prolific lyricist is likely to bring completed lyrics to the table at least some of the time. Let’s define “completed” by saying that in a complete lyric the meter, structure of verses and chorus, and the emotional content of the lyrics are clearly established. In such a case, some writers might say that the song is finished…it just “needs music”.
This might seem demeaning to music and musicians….that the melody, chords, and riffs are essentially finishing touches, and that the bulk of songwriting has to do with lyrical content. In a place like Nashville and a genre like country or folk, where story is king, I’m sure you could easily find writers who would agree with this assessment. But it’s possible that our lyricist may have actually written a good chunk of the music without even realizing it, and just needs a more skilled or more articulate musician to either (1) fill out and add color and interest to the formal structure or (2) help the lyricist articulate in greater detail how they already imagine the music. Either way, many of the decisions have already been made, and it can make the composer’s role relatively simple. Given a lyric with strong meter and form, a good composer/musician will simply fit the notes and chords into the framework the lyricist has already established.
Over the years I’ve been teaching I have had countless people tell me they have no musical ability. (This begs the question of how one might expect to succeed at music lessons when starting off with that mindset, but that’s another article). And it’s true that we’re all given gifts in varying degrees and in different areas. But it’s also easy to imagine that a writer who has carefully constructed a tight, catchy lyric already has an idea of how the music should go. You don’t have to know what the notes and chords are to have a sense of the rise and fall of a melody….even speech has a natural sense of up and down, of emphasis and release….or whether the lyrical content suggests a ballad or a driving rocker. If you DO have a sense of these things, then that song is very close to being finished.
I don’t mean to diminish the importance of a great melody, or a killer riff that grabs the ear and never lets go. My point is that it’s our job as writers to REALLY know how much we know, and to be clear about what we need to learn. A lyricist who hears music but doesn’t know how to communicate it needs to learn how to understand and speak about what they hear….and also to recognize when they’ve envisioned enough of the song that what they need is an arranger rather than a co-writer. If you can sing a melody all the way through your lyric, (even badly!), that song could be considered finished…and as I understand the law, the U.S. Copyright Office agrees. On the other side, musicians who don’t write lyrics need to cultivate an appreciation for song structure and wordplay, and enough flexibility as a composer to solve the “puzzle” of matching music to a finished lyric.
Over twenty-some years of teaching and co-writing, I’ve come to believe that many people, and probably most writers, have more musical ability than they give themselves credit for…what they may lack is the ability to play an instrument well enough to convey what they hear in their heads to someone else. And bringing an 80-percent finished song to a writing session creates a totally different dynamic than starting together from the ground up. That’s fine if everyone understands where you’re starting from, but it can create unnecessary challenges if that dynamic is unclear. So be clear yourself on the extent of your abilities and skills, and don’t demean or dismiss your own musicality just because you don’t happen to play an instrument well. Your co-writers will thank you for it, and you yourself will be far more likely to come away from the writing session feeling that things turned out just as you had imagined.
A prolific lyricist is likely to bring completed lyrics to the table at least some of the time. Let’s define “completed” by saying that in a complete lyric the meter, structure of verses and chorus, and the emotional content of the lyrics are clearly established. In such a case, some writers might say that the song is finished…it just “needs music”.
This might seem demeaning to music and musicians….that the melody, chords, and riffs are essentially finishing touches, and that the bulk of songwriting has to do with lyrical content. In a place like Nashville and a genre like country or folk, where story is king, I’m sure you could easily find writers who would agree with this assessment. But it’s possible that our lyricist may have actually written a good chunk of the music without even realizing it, and just needs a more skilled or more articulate musician to either (1) fill out and add color and interest to the formal structure or (2) help the lyricist articulate in greater detail how they already imagine the music. Either way, many of the decisions have already been made, and it can make the composer’s role relatively simple. Given a lyric with strong meter and form, a good composer/musician will simply fit the notes and chords into the framework the lyricist has already established.
Over the years I’ve been teaching I have had countless people tell me they have no musical ability. (This begs the question of how one might expect to succeed at music lessons when starting off with that mindset, but that’s another article). And it’s true that we’re all given gifts in varying degrees and in different areas. But it’s also easy to imagine that a writer who has carefully constructed a tight, catchy lyric already has an idea of how the music should go. You don’t have to know what the notes and chords are to have a sense of the rise and fall of a melody….even speech has a natural sense of up and down, of emphasis and release….or whether the lyrical content suggests a ballad or a driving rocker. If you DO have a sense of these things, then that song is very close to being finished.
I don’t mean to diminish the importance of a great melody, or a killer riff that grabs the ear and never lets go. My point is that it’s our job as writers to REALLY know how much we know, and to be clear about what we need to learn. A lyricist who hears music but doesn’t know how to communicate it needs to learn how to understand and speak about what they hear….and also to recognize when they’ve envisioned enough of the song that what they need is an arranger rather than a co-writer. If you can sing a melody all the way through your lyric, (even badly!), that song could be considered finished…and as I understand the law, the U.S. Copyright Office agrees. On the other side, musicians who don’t write lyrics need to cultivate an appreciation for song structure and wordplay, and enough flexibility as a composer to solve the “puzzle” of matching music to a finished lyric.
Over twenty-some years of teaching and co-writing, I’ve come to believe that many people, and probably most writers, have more musical ability than they give themselves credit for…what they may lack is the ability to play an instrument well enough to convey what they hear in their heads to someone else. And bringing an 80-percent finished song to a writing session creates a totally different dynamic than starting together from the ground up. That’s fine if everyone understands where you’re starting from, but it can create unnecessary challenges if that dynamic is unclear. So be clear yourself on the extent of your abilities and skills, and don’t demean or dismiss your own musicality just because you don’t happen to play an instrument well. Your co-writers will thank you for it, and you yourself will be far more likely to come away from the writing session feeling that things turned out just as you had imagined.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Does Your Work Have A Sonic Signature?
Does Your Work Have A Sonic Signature?
The concept of “sonic signature” is something more often applied to bands, singer-songwriters, and producers, but it’s a worthwhile thing to consider even if you are not a performing or recording artist.
A sonic signature is the sound that makes music instantly recognizable and memorable. It could be as simple as the type or style of guitar you might play, or the timbre of your voice, or as complex as the use of layers of parts or sophisticated harmonies. Some instantly recognizable examples might be the Beach Boys’ harmonies, Brad Paisley’s guitar, or Leonard Cohen’s gruff baritone.
These are all performing artists, but they do all perform original material….and the SOUND of their work is as much a part of what makes them who they are as the lyrical and melodic content of their songs.
As a songwriter, you might be faced with a choice in a given situation…..do you write what YOU hear as an artist yourself, or do you write to match the sound of an artist you want to pitch to? From the perspective of craft, it’s a useful skill to be able to write songs that can fit different artists in different styles…..think of it as a work-for-hire situation in which you are aiming to fit the specifications requested by another. The fact that the “hire” part of this thought is speculative is not essential to my point… you make creative decisions based upon the target of the song pitch. This approach can work…..Smokey Robinson has said that he wrote “My Girl” for Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin (better known as the Temptations) to sing. But Smokey was an in-house writer and artist at Motown in the 60’s and had an inside track that most of us can’t access quite so easily. Unknown or lesser-known writers without such connections need something else to distinguish ourselves. Strong songcraft, killer hooks, and memorable melodies are all important elements of our toolbox….but what about the SOUND?
We hear on a regular basis here in Nashville that “it’s all about the song”, and while that’s true in the sense that a great song opens doors, it might be helpful to broaden our sense of what makes the song great. Imagine “Sweet Home Alabama” without that opening guitar hook, or the aforementioned “My Girl” without its own distinctive intro. The Beatles’ songs stand up on their own in a thousand rearrangements, but what caught the world’s ear in the first place was how they sounded: the blend of their voices and the chime of the guitars. None of these examples I’m mentioning are difficult to emulate, in fact they are very simple….but they reflect the simple fact that listeners respond to sound as much as they do to identifiable characters and a straightforward message. (Pop music wouldn’t exist as it does today if this were not the case. Explain the inscrutability of an REM or Radiohead lyric, to name two HUGELY successful rock bands whose songs are oblique and completely non-linear).
Granted, we’re talking about writing for a different market. All factors need to be considered….but among that list of goals, add “sonic signature” to the things you strive to achieve in your work. You don’t need to be a great singer (see Leonard Cohen above) or great guitarist (the intros to “Sweet Home” and “My Girl” are often two of the first things I teach beginning guitar students). In fact, your limitations can become strengths in that they can also shape your style. B.B King has been known to say that he plays so tastefully because his fingers can’t move very fast. Strive to improve but don’t let your limitations be a roadblock….rather, allow your limitations to help you define a style, which will evolve along with you.
The concept of “sonic signature” is something more often applied to bands, singer-songwriters, and producers, but it’s a worthwhile thing to consider even if you are not a performing or recording artist.
A sonic signature is the sound that makes music instantly recognizable and memorable. It could be as simple as the type or style of guitar you might play, or the timbre of your voice, or as complex as the use of layers of parts or sophisticated harmonies. Some instantly recognizable examples might be the Beach Boys’ harmonies, Brad Paisley’s guitar, or Leonard Cohen’s gruff baritone.
These are all performing artists, but they do all perform original material….and the SOUND of their work is as much a part of what makes them who they are as the lyrical and melodic content of their songs.
As a songwriter, you might be faced with a choice in a given situation…..do you write what YOU hear as an artist yourself, or do you write to match the sound of an artist you want to pitch to? From the perspective of craft, it’s a useful skill to be able to write songs that can fit different artists in different styles…..think of it as a work-for-hire situation in which you are aiming to fit the specifications requested by another. The fact that the “hire” part of this thought is speculative is not essential to my point… you make creative decisions based upon the target of the song pitch. This approach can work…..Smokey Robinson has said that he wrote “My Girl” for Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin (better known as the Temptations) to sing. But Smokey was an in-house writer and artist at Motown in the 60’s and had an inside track that most of us can’t access quite so easily. Unknown or lesser-known writers without such connections need something else to distinguish ourselves. Strong songcraft, killer hooks, and memorable melodies are all important elements of our toolbox….but what about the SOUND?
We hear on a regular basis here in Nashville that “it’s all about the song”, and while that’s true in the sense that a great song opens doors, it might be helpful to broaden our sense of what makes the song great. Imagine “Sweet Home Alabama” without that opening guitar hook, or the aforementioned “My Girl” without its own distinctive intro. The Beatles’ songs stand up on their own in a thousand rearrangements, but what caught the world’s ear in the first place was how they sounded: the blend of their voices and the chime of the guitars. None of these examples I’m mentioning are difficult to emulate, in fact they are very simple….but they reflect the simple fact that listeners respond to sound as much as they do to identifiable characters and a straightforward message. (Pop music wouldn’t exist as it does today if this were not the case. Explain the inscrutability of an REM or Radiohead lyric, to name two HUGELY successful rock bands whose songs are oblique and completely non-linear).
Granted, we’re talking about writing for a different market. All factors need to be considered….but among that list of goals, add “sonic signature” to the things you strive to achieve in your work. You don’t need to be a great singer (see Leonard Cohen above) or great guitarist (the intros to “Sweet Home” and “My Girl” are often two of the first things I teach beginning guitar students). In fact, your limitations can become strengths in that they can also shape your style. B.B King has been known to say that he plays so tastefully because his fingers can’t move very fast. Strive to improve but don’t let your limitations be a roadblock….rather, allow your limitations to help you define a style, which will evolve along with you.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Are You Playing The Right Guitar?
Guitars come in more shapes and sizes than a casual observer might think. There’s lots of variation in the depth and width of the body, not to mention the neck….then you need to take the size and proportion of your fingers, hands, and arms into account as well. Yet many students who come to me are playing essentially the same style guitar, and don’t have a sense of how the physical shape and size of the instrument affects their ability to play it.
Part of the problem is that entry-level instruments don’t come in as many styles as more expensive guitars. If you’re buying a guitar for a child, there are ¾ and half-size models available, but an average adult would probably end up purchasing a standard style acoustic called a dreadnought. When you picture an acoustic guitar, this is most likely the body style you imagine: a lower bout that is slightly wider than the upper, with a shallow waist between the two. Dreadnoughts were designed for fullness and projection back in the 1920s to compete with louder instruments like fiddles and mandolins; they produce a fuller tone because the sound resonates through the deep lower bout. If you’re playing in standard right-handed style, this is the part of the guitar you need to get your right hand around to reach the strings…and for many people, this is where the trouble starts.
I personally love the sound of a dreadnought but I find that my right arm will begin to tire if I’m working around that deep lower bout for an extended period of time. If you are a person of smaller build you may find it awkward to even get your right hand comfortably to the strings, often leading to contortions and overuse of the right shoulder. If you find that your right shoulder is higher than your left when you play seated in a straight-backed chair, the guitar’s depth may be creating a physical challenge for you.
My primary acoustic is a slightly smaller-bodied design called an OM or orchestra model. It lacks the low-end punch of a dreadnought but chimes beautifully and is physically much more comfortable for me to play. I also own a parlor guitar, which is even smaller and has a more graceful, narrow waist. It has less power than the dreadnought or the OM but is a very sweet-sounding instrument and wonderful for fingerpicking.
Ultimately there are many body styles out there, and it’s worth being aware of the differences. Even if you’re just getting started, you can tell just by sitting and holding the guitar whether it’s well-matched to your body type. You should be able to reach the strings comfortably with your strumming hand without having to compress or overextend the shoulder, and you should be able to swing the arm freely without strain. Try sitting in a straight-backed chair or standing with a strap. And most of all, don’t be intimidated by the sales staff…take the time to get a sense of what feels right and what doesn’t.
Everyone’s going to have their own preferences when it comes to the size-to-sound-to comfort ratio. Sometimes it’s a function of musical style and sometimes it’s a purely physical or aesthetic judgment. But as I often say to students in any setting, be it a private lesson, a workshop, or an article…we come back again and again to the importance of paying attention and feeling what you’re doing. Listen and feel, and your ears and body will tell you when you’ve found the sweet spot.
Part of the problem is that entry-level instruments don’t come in as many styles as more expensive guitars. If you’re buying a guitar for a child, there are ¾ and half-size models available, but an average adult would probably end up purchasing a standard style acoustic called a dreadnought. When you picture an acoustic guitar, this is most likely the body style you imagine: a lower bout that is slightly wider than the upper, with a shallow waist between the two. Dreadnoughts were designed for fullness and projection back in the 1920s to compete with louder instruments like fiddles and mandolins; they produce a fuller tone because the sound resonates through the deep lower bout. If you’re playing in standard right-handed style, this is the part of the guitar you need to get your right hand around to reach the strings…and for many people, this is where the trouble starts.
I personally love the sound of a dreadnought but I find that my right arm will begin to tire if I’m working around that deep lower bout for an extended period of time. If you are a person of smaller build you may find it awkward to even get your right hand comfortably to the strings, often leading to contortions and overuse of the right shoulder. If you find that your right shoulder is higher than your left when you play seated in a straight-backed chair, the guitar’s depth may be creating a physical challenge for you.
My primary acoustic is a slightly smaller-bodied design called an OM or orchestra model. It lacks the low-end punch of a dreadnought but chimes beautifully and is physically much more comfortable for me to play. I also own a parlor guitar, which is even smaller and has a more graceful, narrow waist. It has less power than the dreadnought or the OM but is a very sweet-sounding instrument and wonderful for fingerpicking.
Ultimately there are many body styles out there, and it’s worth being aware of the differences. Even if you’re just getting started, you can tell just by sitting and holding the guitar whether it’s well-matched to your body type. You should be able to reach the strings comfortably with your strumming hand without having to compress or overextend the shoulder, and you should be able to swing the arm freely without strain. Try sitting in a straight-backed chair or standing with a strap. And most of all, don’t be intimidated by the sales staff…take the time to get a sense of what feels right and what doesn’t.
Everyone’s going to have their own preferences when it comes to the size-to-sound-to comfort ratio. Sometimes it’s a function of musical style and sometimes it’s a purely physical or aesthetic judgment. But as I often say to students in any setting, be it a private lesson, a workshop, or an article…we come back again and again to the importance of paying attention and feeling what you’re doing. Listen and feel, and your ears and body will tell you when you’ve found the sweet spot.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Why Musicianship Matters
The following is a quote from the founder and president of a very well-known music industry company:
"Have you spent years working on your song craft, or on musicianship? Practicing guitar doesn't count toward songwriting all that much, unless of course you're learning the chords you'll need to write the songs."
In fairness, I'm taking this statement out of context. But it was part of a longer essay about long-term commitment to songwriting, and if I'm reading him right he's suggesting that song craft and musicianship are mutually exclusive areas. The following sentence does seem to reinforce that impression, the "unless of course" notwithstanding.
Odd that the founder of a company that helps writers place songs with producers, film supervisors, artists, and more - in a wide variety of genres - would suggest that musicianship is not a part of songcraft. Musicianship is much more than how many scales you know or how fast you can play - it's an understanding of how to speak the language, and developing fluency in a variety of dialects (styles). Yet some in the music business seem to take the attitude that this fluency in the language of music isn't important to the process of songwriting.
We can all think of those simple, perfect songs - like the old cliché goes, "three chords and the truth". This is the foundation of pop music, it's true. But the Beatles wrote great pop music using a lot more than three chords. So did Elton John, Burt Bacharach, Billy Joel, Donald Fagen & Walter Becker, Jimmy Webb, Carole King - throw Cole Porter and Jerome Kern in there too, while you're at it. The pantheon of popular music is filled with great musicians. Many very successful hit writers are tremendously accomplished instrumentalists. (Ever seen Jeffrey Steele play guitar? Brad Paisley?) Simplicity is a beautiful aspect of pop music, but simplicity doesn't mean you shouldn't have many options to choose from as you craft your simple song.
Now, of course being a great musician does NOT make you a great songwriter. But if music is your chosen means of expression, why minimize the importance of understanding it? I'm amazed when I hear very prominent people in the MUSIC industry talk about music as if it were an afterthought. Yes, you can't deny the importance of a well-crafted, conversational lyric. But it's a mistake to diminish the importance of a great melody, instrumental hook, or killer groove. You increase your ability to create each of those things when you develop your level of musicianship.
I see it as my mission as an educator to make this point over and over again. To reinforce that striving for simplicity is not the same as choosing to be limited. That knowledge and skill increase creative freedom....and most of all that developing musicianship - both in skill on an instrument and aural sophistication as a listener and creator - is absolutely a part of improving your songwriting.
Perhaps the person I quoted above didn't mean what I took him to mean, but the point still stands. Never stop learning, never stop improving - in EVERY aspect of your creative and musical life.
"Have you spent years working on your song craft, or on musicianship? Practicing guitar doesn't count toward songwriting all that much, unless of course you're learning the chords you'll need to write the songs."
In fairness, I'm taking this statement out of context. But it was part of a longer essay about long-term commitment to songwriting, and if I'm reading him right he's suggesting that song craft and musicianship are mutually exclusive areas. The following sentence does seem to reinforce that impression, the "unless of course" notwithstanding.
Odd that the founder of a company that helps writers place songs with producers, film supervisors, artists, and more - in a wide variety of genres - would suggest that musicianship is not a part of songcraft. Musicianship is much more than how many scales you know or how fast you can play - it's an understanding of how to speak the language, and developing fluency in a variety of dialects (styles). Yet some in the music business seem to take the attitude that this fluency in the language of music isn't important to the process of songwriting.
We can all think of those simple, perfect songs - like the old cliché goes, "three chords and the truth". This is the foundation of pop music, it's true. But the Beatles wrote great pop music using a lot more than three chords. So did Elton John, Burt Bacharach, Billy Joel, Donald Fagen & Walter Becker, Jimmy Webb, Carole King - throw Cole Porter and Jerome Kern in there too, while you're at it. The pantheon of popular music is filled with great musicians. Many very successful hit writers are tremendously accomplished instrumentalists. (Ever seen Jeffrey Steele play guitar? Brad Paisley?) Simplicity is a beautiful aspect of pop music, but simplicity doesn't mean you shouldn't have many options to choose from as you craft your simple song.
Now, of course being a great musician does NOT make you a great songwriter. But if music is your chosen means of expression, why minimize the importance of understanding it? I'm amazed when I hear very prominent people in the MUSIC industry talk about music as if it were an afterthought. Yes, you can't deny the importance of a well-crafted, conversational lyric. But it's a mistake to diminish the importance of a great melody, instrumental hook, or killer groove. You increase your ability to create each of those things when you develop your level of musicianship.
I see it as my mission as an educator to make this point over and over again. To reinforce that striving for simplicity is not the same as choosing to be limited. That knowledge and skill increase creative freedom....and most of all that developing musicianship - both in skill on an instrument and aural sophistication as a listener and creator - is absolutely a part of improving your songwriting.
Perhaps the person I quoted above didn't mean what I took him to mean, but the point still stands. Never stop learning, never stop improving - in EVERY aspect of your creative and musical life.
Technique and Tone
I had a student recently ask me, "is this the most important thing I should be learning right now?"
We were talking about pick technique in a very fundamental way: how to hold the pick, how to move to strike the string. This student was not a beginner and already able to play, so she obviously knew how to do these things already. There's so much time to devote to practicing to begin with, so I can understand her wondering why we were returning to something so basic.
If you think of when you first picked up a guitar, you probably didn't give a whole lot of thought to the mechanics of how you pluck a string - you wanted to learn play a song. And that's an appropriate mindset in the beginning: the desire and enthusiasm are the most crucial part, and the music is what drives it. Yes, you have to crawl before you can walk, but the sooner you get to making real music the more enjoyment you get from playing the instrument....let's face it, to most people there's nothing sexy about scales and finger exercises. All that stuff is a means to an end, and many students see mechanics and exercises as a necessary frustration they want to get past as quickly as possible.
But let's deconstruct a little. Let's say you can play the guitar, maybe not as well as you might like but you can get by. You have a vocabulary of chords, rhythms, and songs, and you might even be a seasoned performer. You know what works and what you can put across, but you also know there's more you could learn to do. So where do you go from here?
Everything we know how to do on the guitar is based upon muscle memory. We learn patterns and repeat them until the fingers go where they need to go on command. This is the way most people think of practicing, and there's no escaping this part of the process if you're trying to learn something new. But there's another aspect that I think gets lost easily, and it's based on one simple idea. Playing well means knowing what you want your hands to do, and having the ability to get them to do it...so we need to develop greater precision, not just more vocabulary. This is what technique is really about: not speed or flash necessarily, but control.
This control and precision helps your physical ability to make the guitar "speak": not just to make a sound but to produce the best quality tone you can. We'll define quality tone in terms of clarity, presence, and resonance....but all that really means is that the guitar sounds good. Good tone has mojo, that magical ability to transport the listener with a single note.
Tone comes from the way the string is struck....from a balanced relationship between force applied and sound produced. There's no magic formula to figure this out, just your hands and ears.There are lots of variables: the gauge (or thickness) of the strings, the thickness (and therefore flexibility) of the pick, the size and shape of the guitar, and the size and shape of the player. Every guitar is going to respond differently, and a sensitive and aware player can adjust accordingly. It's perhaps obvious but worth mentioning that the instrument needs to be "set up" properly so that it's not too difficult to play but can produce a good tone....for a beginner, lower "action" (height of the strings) and lighter strings can make it much easier to hold the strings down. The physical size and shape of the instrument is important too, you'd be surprised at how many people struggle with playing guitars that are too big for them. Keep in mind that if you feel like you're working too hard, it's very possible that you are.
When you pay specific attention to the mechanics of technique, it's going to improve your precision. More precise technique means better sound, which is at the heart of everything we do on an instrument. Getting into technique in greater depth helps you produce more and different sounds, giving you more options and more possible choices at any given moment. As a creative artist, THIS is the fundamental goal: options and flexibility. We feel stagnant in any situation when we no longer see options and possibilities....developing technique allows us to have more ability than we might use in any particular situation, so options stay open and other possibilities always exist.
So the short answer to the question is yes: this IS the most important thing you could be learning right now.
We were talking about pick technique in a very fundamental way: how to hold the pick, how to move to strike the string. This student was not a beginner and already able to play, so she obviously knew how to do these things already. There's so much time to devote to practicing to begin with, so I can understand her wondering why we were returning to something so basic.
If you think of when you first picked up a guitar, you probably didn't give a whole lot of thought to the mechanics of how you pluck a string - you wanted to learn play a song. And that's an appropriate mindset in the beginning: the desire and enthusiasm are the most crucial part, and the music is what drives it. Yes, you have to crawl before you can walk, but the sooner you get to making real music the more enjoyment you get from playing the instrument....let's face it, to most people there's nothing sexy about scales and finger exercises. All that stuff is a means to an end, and many students see mechanics and exercises as a necessary frustration they want to get past as quickly as possible.
But let's deconstruct a little. Let's say you can play the guitar, maybe not as well as you might like but you can get by. You have a vocabulary of chords, rhythms, and songs, and you might even be a seasoned performer. You know what works and what you can put across, but you also know there's more you could learn to do. So where do you go from here?
Everything we know how to do on the guitar is based upon muscle memory. We learn patterns and repeat them until the fingers go where they need to go on command. This is the way most people think of practicing, and there's no escaping this part of the process if you're trying to learn something new. But there's another aspect that I think gets lost easily, and it's based on one simple idea. Playing well means knowing what you want your hands to do, and having the ability to get them to do it...so we need to develop greater precision, not just more vocabulary. This is what technique is really about: not speed or flash necessarily, but control.
This control and precision helps your physical ability to make the guitar "speak": not just to make a sound but to produce the best quality tone you can. We'll define quality tone in terms of clarity, presence, and resonance....but all that really means is that the guitar sounds good. Good tone has mojo, that magical ability to transport the listener with a single note.
Tone comes from the way the string is struck....from a balanced relationship between force applied and sound produced. There's no magic formula to figure this out, just your hands and ears.There are lots of variables: the gauge (or thickness) of the strings, the thickness (and therefore flexibility) of the pick, the size and shape of the guitar, and the size and shape of the player. Every guitar is going to respond differently, and a sensitive and aware player can adjust accordingly. It's perhaps obvious but worth mentioning that the instrument needs to be "set up" properly so that it's not too difficult to play but can produce a good tone....for a beginner, lower "action" (height of the strings) and lighter strings can make it much easier to hold the strings down. The physical size and shape of the instrument is important too, you'd be surprised at how many people struggle with playing guitars that are too big for them. Keep in mind that if you feel like you're working too hard, it's very possible that you are.
When you pay specific attention to the mechanics of technique, it's going to improve your precision. More precise technique means better sound, which is at the heart of everything we do on an instrument. Getting into technique in greater depth helps you produce more and different sounds, giving you more options and more possible choices at any given moment. As a creative artist, THIS is the fundamental goal: options and flexibility. We feel stagnant in any situation when we no longer see options and possibilities....developing technique allows us to have more ability than we might use in any particular situation, so options stay open and other possibilities always exist.
So the short answer to the question is yes: this IS the most important thing you could be learning right now.
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