Ug. Voicemail.

Today, my horoscope says "Your charisma has a magnetic pull today. You can attract romance, partnership, funding or the object of your desire. Let your light shine on what you really want."

Yesterday was the day that I phoned Tim McGraw's producer. I know... Michael Who?? Anyway, I had a quick little script, left a great voicemail, confident yet friendly, and hung up. Only problem is that the inbound message said to press 1 when done. Uh-oh. What if my message wasn't saved? So I revised my script and called back, apologizing if there were two messages from me, etc. I was so nervous leaving that 2nd one. What do you think I forgot to do at the end? Yup. Didn't press 1. Can't risk leaving 3 messages... Sadly, I'm reminded of George Costanza.

I wonder what yesterday's horoscope said.

Evolution of a demo

I thought I’d share how a recent song has evolved from the first draft through the editing and demo processes.

A Great Little Town in February
Have you ever fallen for someone and felt so different from the day before you met them that it’s like you’ve arrived in a completely new physical place? This song is called “A Great Little Town, You.” Nice, simple little sentiment. I wrote it in February and haven't thought much about it until a week or so ago.

Here’s a recording of it from February, the day it was written:

February Demo – First Draft


Verses 1 and 2 talk about the journey of life so far. The chorus is about discovering a new little "town" that’s different from everything else so far along the road. And verses 3 and 4 go on to talk about the town as the beginning of a new journey.

Now, it’s a catchy little melody and a lovely sentiment that I really like. But from a song-crafting point of view, I thought it could use some work. Here’s why:

There were two key things, one in the lyric and one in the musical structure. With the lyric, there wasn't any certainty or closure to the idea that ‘yes, this is in fact a great place for me to be.’ Structurally, the verse and chorus have almost the same chord progression. The changes happen quicker in the chorus, which brings its energy up with the melody shift, but there’s still a similar feel to the rhythm of the two sections.

Here’s the February verses 3 and 4:
So here I stand
With my feet on new ground
Think I’ll take a look around
There are pathways
I wonder where they lead
Is there one for you and me?

Have I arrived?
Where I dreamed to be one day
In a place where I can stay
There are tingles
All up and down my spine
Have I put the past behind?

A Great Little Town in October
With some time away from the lyric and the emotions at the time, I could look at the song more objectively. My critique of the verses above boils down to this: “So here I stand” sounds final, whereas “Have I arrived?” is clearly not. Well, there were questions in the “So here I stand” verse, but with still more questions in the subsequent “Have I arrived?” verse, the song wasn’t progressing. There were chronology and concept issues there for me.

I tackled both those issues by editing one of the verses into a bridge that would resolve the concept, while the musical and rhythmic change would add the break I thought was needed before going into the final chorus.

Here’s the October re-write as verse 3 and bridge:
Have I arrived?
Where I dreamed to be one day
In a place where I can stay
There are tingles
All up and down my spine
Have I put the past behind?

BRIDGE
Here I stand on new ground
I like the look of what I found, this town
I’ve seen where a lot of wrong turns lead
But this turn is right for me, finally

Now, the bridge added certainty and closure to the idea that was missing before. I also tweaked a few other words here and there (including a nice new line in the choruses) and refined the music, most notably in the intro.

Here’s the October demo:

October Demo – Edited Lyrics & Arrangement


I played this one for my production partner Alex, asking him to do a better mix of it for me. He'll also record a nice little shuffle on the drums, which will make the song more dynamic and really help the chorus spring to life.

November Demo

As promised, here's the final demo. Differences since October are a little remixing and mastering and addition of drums, which put a nice bounce in its step.

Bye-bye Baby

Apologies for the headline trickery... I'm not leaving yet. Just my bike. In the big scheme of things, it's a wee little thing. But every fall, there's a sad day indeed for me when my bike takes a ride on its own... into winter storage.

My bike rides into winter storage.

I just checked the weather in Nashville and it's 16°C (61°F) and sunny, so a little more two-wheel friendly than it is here today. In Toronto, it's 9°C (48°F) and windy with some nasty-looking clouds getting ready to unleash. Though, I do a little bright spot trying to fight its way through. Still, a very autumn vibe in the air. I half expect to see Ichabod Crane ride by. I just hope it's not on a bike!

This is my first bike. A 2005 Suzuki V-Strom DL650. I guess every little boy wants a motorcycle. But I never did anything about it until 4 years ago. I'd just gotten back from a couple months in Thailand where I'd been renting various little scooters to roam around the country side. One ride in particular, I was roaming aimlessly on a gorgeous snake of a road through the mountains north of Pai. Absolutely incredible views, luscious tree canopies so that you're riding through a thick green tunnel half the time. And omigosh the bends! It was the biggest scooter I'd been able to find on the entire trip. I think it was a 150 CC! And I was riding with a new pal from Hawaii on the back! We nearly ran out of gas. I think that was the ride that got me hooked. The little boy was back, and he wanted a motorcycle.

When I got back to Toronto, I went to see a buddy's band play and they had an old motorcycle video playing on the wall behind them. I was entranced! I heard the band play, but I don't think I caught even a glimpse of the boys on stage! After their set, I asked Mike the drummer what the video was. He said it was a documentary from the 70s called On Any Sunday, following two groups of motocross riders around the weekend racing circuit. One of the pro-am guys was Steve McQueen! He rode a Triumph.

Anyway, next thing you know, I'm surfing the web looking for safety courses and licensing info. Come spring, I had the V-Strom, and I've put a whole lotta miles on it since. About 10,000 km each season.

The coolest ride so far was 1,301 km (808 mi) from Toronto, Ontario to Deals Gap, North Carolina in September 2010. The reason for the trip was the last 11 miles of US 129 in Tennessee. They call it the Tail of the Dragon. 318 turns in 11 miles. It reminded me of the mountain ride in Pai, except different trees, a bigger engine and a lot more fun.

I'd had a few stalls between West Virginia and Knoxville, so I stopped into a shop to get it checked out. The guy said it was strange for a V-Strom to have any trouble, so figured I must have gotten some dirty fuel along the way. He cleaned and tuned the injection system, popped a new air filter on for good measure, and I was on my way. Of course, it was getting late by then and, for the last hour or so, it was pretty slow riding in the dark on a hairy little mountain road. I was thinking, if I make it out of this alive, I don't know if I'll have the nerve to try the Dragon tomorrow. Just as I was thinking maybe I was on the wrong track, I saw the Deals Gap hotel sign. Could not have felt more relieved!

I pulled up and pitched my tent in the back field (something like $5-10 a night versus a room). A few Harley guys invited me over for a cold one with them and let me tell ya, did that beer ever go down good! So I told them about my ride and that I was a bit spooked about trying the Dragon. One of them asked "which way did you ride in?" I pointed up over the hill and they all let out big belly laughs. Turns out I'd just had my first ride on the Dragon – in the dark!

Well... all this talk of motorcycles and, wouldn't you know it, looks like the sun's coming out. Too bad my wheels are 40 km (25 mi) away by now.

Do, not think.

Tea & cookies
Two days ago, I heard from my friend Ashley who'd been in Equador for most of the past year studying meditation and organic farming. She took such a big leap leaving everything here behind, that it's hard not to be inspired by her. She was back home for a jam-packed two-week visit and wanted to know if I could squeeze her in. Of course I could. We met for tea and cookies at the Only Cafe in the east end. It isn't the only cafe, it's just called The Only. Strangely enough, so is another one in Peterborough! I guess that means neither of them actually is.

But back to the tea and cookies...

So, with Ash being the spritual, motivational seeker type that she is, I told her about a little tailspin I'd gotten myself into last week, how I'd been doubting myself and feeling scared of what lay ahead, and of somehow screwing it all up. She said "doubt isn't real." Simple as that. What a lovely and sussinct way of nipping that in the bud! So we went on to have a great chat about how progress comes from action – from continually doing a little bit more all the time, and not getting caught up in thought. I've decided to do less thinking.

So what have I been doing since the infamous Revelation Of The Schedule 11 days ago? Not updating the blog, that's for sure! Well, last week was a bit of a write-off. But I'm back on track this week.

Telling stories
There was another NSAI meeting this Tuesday night. I didn't bring a demo for feedback and there was no guitar there, so I couldn't play one live. One fella played one, and we each gave our two cents on that. But mostly we talked about story telling, progressing the story from one verse to the next, and so on. Dan played 4 or 5 Nashville hits as examples and we discussed their lyrics, poetic devices, stories, characters, etc. It was interesting.

So that session inspired me to buckle down and make some progress with verses for a new song I've been mulling over for a while. The idea started with one line that I came up with on a motorycle ride a few months ago. I often sing gibberish melodies as I'm riding along and they eventually turn into real words. It's a cool way to focus on melodies and not get caught up in what the chords are – perhaps another way to look at doing vs thinking! I recently discovered that sitting down with the guitar too soon can limit my melody possibilities, because I end up jamming the early melody idea into the bounds of my basic rhythm guitar skills. So I've been taking a more fluid and patient approach.  

The chorus is essentially a fun little folksy way of saying 'I'll go any distance to be with you' or 'nothing can keep me from you.' So this week, after the NSAI session, I decided to come up with a story. I've been working on the lyrics and melody in my head everwhere I've been in the past four days. On the train, in coffee shops, the grocery store, here at home. Came up with a nice little story about a couple who've been in love pretty much their entire lives, since they were little kids and didn't even know what love was. Amazing life-long friends turned into lovers. I managed to resist the tempation to pick up the guitar until last night, only after I felt like I really had a nice little unusual melody worked out. Then it ended up being a fairly quick process of writing the guitar part – and, it's a part that I never would have wrtten if I hadn't taken my time on the vocal melody.

Slabs of stone
I love how a melody often tells me what the words will be. I once heard an Innuit carver say that he never knows what he will make from the slab of stone in front of him. He said that there's a spirit in each piece and he just helps it out into its final shape. I thought that was pretty awesome and it reminded me of how songs often come from somewhere inside without me really having a specific goal in mind. Even now that I'm being more objective and proactive with writing, there's still an element of that mysterious discovery process with the lyrics and story rising up out of the melody. It's magic.

I wrote the first verse on the train ride home yesterday and just finished the second and the bridge tonight. I'm really digging it and will bring an acoustic demo of it to Nashville. I'll likely run it by my buddies Alex and Mike first, though. They tend to be good sounding boards for lyrics.

So... 51 days to go and I've got another song.

Doing. Not thinking.

My first step south

I just wanted to look back at how this whole idea
started bouncing around in my head.

In May, I went to a SOCAN event that offered an opportunity to meet a publisher for 10 whole luscious minutes. That didn’t sound like enough time to accomplish much of anything. But, looking back, you'd be surprised what you can take away from 10 minutes if you’re really curious.

The fellow I met was from Ole’s office in Los Angeles. He'd been writing, producing and pitching songs on his own for years before Ole recruited him. He also had a lot of experience in his earlier days as an indie artist. So he's seen songs from pretty much every perspective. Better yet, he was happy to talk, and I was certainly eager to listen.

How am I supposed to sell that?

I asked "What about demos? I've heard that producers just want to hear basic guitar demos." He said "a producer might but, as a publisher, how am I supposed to sell that?" He said a strong pitch is all about the whole package. I thought: okay, the song’s in the box, the production is the wrapping. Gotta have some nice wrapping.

He also said the biggest thing to understand getting started in pitching songs is something that took him years figure out when he first moved from artist to publisher/producer: don't write a song and wonder what artist could do it. Instead, write a song specifically for someone and figure out how to pitch it to them."

With these gems in my pocket, I left the meeting with all cylinders firing. I felt really energized and positive for the first time in a long while.

The fun bit

I'd recently fallen in love with a new country record. So I started researching the artist and found out that we had a similar interest in motorcycles. Two days later I had a new song. This was a whole new writing experience for me – I’d never written a song for someone else to play and I’d never approached the writing process itself like I did this time.

Most of my songs have a definite rock flavor and, with a few exceptions, my lyric style has been poetic and sometimes abstract. Quite different from the more linear story-telling style that’s predominant in the country genre.

I’ve recorded two of my own CDs and have written a bunch more songs besides, but they’re all about things in my life, experiences, struggles, hopes, etc., that are very personal to me and the people around me. I rarely “decide” to write a song. It’s more like the ideas are bubbling under the surface as I’m going through the experience. Like they are forming in my subconscious and then come out in a flurry as a resolution or understanding of what’s been going on. It’s a sort of mysterious sounding process, I admit. Years ago, I was really adamant about leaving them as they were in whatever form the muse presented them. But in recent years, I’ve spent much more time crafting and revising both music and lyrics.

Anyway, that was a bit of a ramble. The main point being that the way I wrote songs in the past was entirely different from the approach I took with this one.

I approached this new song like it was my day job (I’m a marketing writer). It didn't bubble up from under the surface. I sat down and picked an audience and a subject. I did research to fill in any details I didn’t know. I really made a plan for the song and stuck to it – how the verses would progress, what the bridge would do. Whereas most of my own songs “just come out,” I had to put a lot more effort into this one. The main chunk of it came in the first two days, but I’ve been tweaking it off and on for a couple months now. It's been work. But, you know something? It's also been a lot of fun! And I’m really proud of the result.

You’re probably thinking “Hey buddy, this would be a good place to post an MP3.” But I must admit to being a bit superstitious about that. I want the artist I wrote it for to hear it first. And I don’t even know how to go about doing that yet!

The scary bit

So the song was written. Then what?

Well, then the publisher's words started ringing in my ears again. How am I going to sell it? How was I going to wrap the package? I can sing well and play guitar, but my git skills are strictly rhythm. And I’m just starting to fumble my way around a piano again after many years away from it.

I had to find a way to make a really good production. But I couldn’t afford to go into a studio. I felt with all my heart that it was a catalyst for bigger things ahead – things that I’d dreamed of for a long time but was afraid to pursue. I felt fantastic about the song and the future possibilities. But when it came to present reality, what I felt was desperate. I had to ask for help.

Needing help is a scary notion. What if it doesn’t come?

Now, a lot of people would think this is just foolish talk. Who the heck wouldn’t ask for help? Well, let me tell ya, there are plenty of folks out there who don’t ask for help, even when they need it most. There are oodles of reasons. Depression, low confidence, lack of knowledge about what’s out there or where to look, fear, feeling overwhelmed, etc. For people like that [like me], sometimes it’s just easier to hide.

Breaking out of that pattern was my first step toward Nashville.

Rolling with the punches

Friday was a pretty crap day. I woke up to a wee home-maintenance crisis and had to phone my boss saying I wouldn't be coming in. That was also stressful because there's a lot going on there right now, and they need me for it. After spending half the day dealing with the apartment, I got two emails from my music-production partners that put me more on edge.

They said the demo workload for the Nashville trip had become too heavy. Jo said "Why so many songs?" Al said "I'd prefer to do fewer songs well than ram a full bunch through." This surprised me because I didn't think much had changed. But after I'd put everything together in a single status report, the list looked a lot longer in writing that it had in our heads. 

The initial plan
I wanted to bring 7-8 of my newest songs to Nashville and perhaps a few marketable tunes from my own indie albums. I thought, in the event that I'm lucky enough to find some interested ears on this first trip or even over the next year, a good range of material in one place would be better than just a couple of songs.

So the initial plan was to have full productions of 4 songs and acoustic-vocal demos of another 3-4. By 'full' demos, I mean pretty much what you'd hear on a band's CD: drums, bass, multiple guitars, perhaps keys, lead and backing vocals. Then, last month, I wrote a new song that we felt was strong enough to add and Al wanted to try a full production of it. I obviously loved that idea. So we were up to 5 full demos.

But September had snuck by and we were now behind schedule. In hindsight, I don't know if we were ever really on schedule, but we'd only now realized it. The clock was ticking and stress was building.

At this stage in the game, there's a lot of studio work: producing, playing, recording, editing, mixing, pondering and sometimes redoing parts of it. With the songs written, my job right now is listening to what Al and Jo produce, giving feedback and describing any changes I think are needed. 

As a song moves farther through the process, the later changes are usually minor. But the first draft is a whole different animal. The producer takes my rough sketch recording of guitar/piano and vocal, and puts his mark on it with a full arrangement -- which could mean changes to tempo, key signature and even style treatments. Then I listen to the producer's work and decide if I'm comfortable with how it represents the core song. It can be a stressful step.

Keep in mind that we're all on different schedules with different life demands. There are also day jobs and wives and kids and parents and friends and gigs and volunteer work and dogs and bills and chores. So none of our music collaboration is ever done in the same room or at the same time of day. We work primarily by email and occasionally by phone.

Re-evaluating the situation
After looking at what was left to do on these 5 songs, plus new lyrics and vocals for one that Jo had brought to the project, I decided to cut 2 songs from the full-demo list. This was a bit of a let-down, but I'm so excited about the top two songs (which will also be the most time consuming), that I didn't want anything jeopardizing the quality of their tracks.

Then I did something absolutely revolutionary. I made a schedule! Just imagine. All those years of business school finally paying off. Key deadlines for various parts of the process -- drum tracks for song 1, guitar tracks for song 2, vocal sessions, and so on. It worked wonders. Less work + more clarity = less stress. 

For the next two weeks, the production focus is on the two top songs. Then it'll shift to the odds and ends needed for the other full demos, which are already close to being final mixes.

In the meantime, I continue writing and tweaking lyrics in preparation for the final vocal sessions, and working on song selections, arrangements and guitar parts for the simpler acoustic demos.

The plan is to have everything mixed and mastered by the end of October, with a little buffer time factored in, plus two weeks for CD dupes and printing, and another week for shipping to my Nashville friend at the end of November.

This all got sorted late Friday.

On Saturday, I sent Jo a demo of a chorus edit I made following the NSAI group feedback. 

Sticking to the schedule.

Taking criticism

aka Welcoming help

<Tuesday, Sept 27>

Twiddled thumbs for an hour or so after work waiting for rush-hour to subside. Incidentally, rush hour could use a new name since it spans 3:00 to 6:30 in the Toronto area. Finally hopped on the motorcycle at 6:34 only to abandon the cherry-red glow of the expressway parking lot shortly thereafter. Wove my way through alternate routes and somehow managed to arrive just a couple minutes late for my first NSAI local meeting in Brampton. Hooray for motorcycles.

NSAI stands for Nashville Songwriters Association International. I’ve only been a member for a few months yet, but it’s already been worth it. Got some great advice over the phone from the friendly folks at HQ, and there are plenty of great resources on the website: blogs, webcast libraries, articles, recommended reading lists, all sorts of good stuff. I’m really looking forward to meeting the Nashville gang in December and highly recommend you join if you’re an aspiring songwriter.

Meanwhile, back in Brampton... a small and friendly group of writers welcomed me to the fold. First part of the meeting recapped topics from a recent webcast. Then they asked what I was up to and what I hoped to get out of the whole experience. They’ve all been to Nashville, and a couple have regular cowriters there, so it was nice to get their insight.

Then we took turns playing new songs and getting feedback. Everyone else just played guitar, so I felt a bit funny playing the full-on demo CD, but they welcomed it and the mix got great reviews!

When it was done, everyone had a go at something they liked and something they didn’t quite get about it. Karl said he was caught off guard by a lyric in the bridge. So we talked about an alternate line I had for the first verse, and they all agreed that would be a better setup of the song and the bridge. This was great, since I’d been thinking the same thing myself and it was encouraging to hear other people say that I was on the right track with the edits.

Then, something I wasn’t expecting at all: Gayle asked, “What’s a v twin?” I told her “It’s a kind of engine. The song’s a motorcycle metaphor.” Lights when on for her. “Oh, a motorcycle! You should really say that in the lyrics.”

Shut up and listen

I kind of shrugged this off, thinking the audience I wrote it for would know their engines. What a dumb thing to say or even think. I wasn’t a jerk about it (at least I sure hope I wasn’t), but I definitely could’ve been more openly accepting of the comment instead of trying to justify why the existing lyrics made sense. Because, hey, if it wasn’t clear to a fresh set of ears, then it just wasn't clear. Thankfully, I ended up taking a step back when I got home and seeing her point. Made a nice little edit that really ties the whole song together much more tightly now. Lessons learned: don't narrow your audience with an esoteric lyric; and shut up and listen.

Thank you, Gayle.


Another good suggestion came from Dan. My chorus ended on the 5 chord of the scale, so it felt to him like it was left hanging at the end and needed to resolve. In my head, it did resolve because the chorus was followed by a guitar break that started on the 1 chord. But, again, to an objective listener, the resolve wasn’t really there in the lyric.

Shaun built on Dan's comment and noted that I didn’t have the exact song title in the chorus, or anywhere in the song for that matter. This, I’m learning, is a rather large faux pas in country music, especially if you want a song to have commercial appeal. He said, “Let’s say people hear it and like it. They’ll never know what to ask for on a radio request line!” Pretty solid point there.

So I stewed on that for a while and decided to add a bar to the end of the chorus and write a new lyric that resolved the concept, with a final note that resolved the melody. And, wouldn’t you know it, the song is much better now for it.

What's even more interesting about chorus fix is that I'd recently finished another song and done all the same stuff on my own without thinking about it. So, it's good to know that I do have the right instincts. Also good to learn that I should always go back and try to make every song better -- especially the ones I think are fine as-is.

By the time I brought this song to the NSAI meeting, it’d been pretty much ‘complete’ for several weeks. Even though I wanted honest, constructive feedback, perhaps I didn’t really expect them to find any cracks in the dam. Silly me, standing in a puddle.

Dare I say it's water-tight now?

Maybe one day you’ll hear it on your local station. And, if you want to phone in a request, don’t worry, the title's in the chorus where it belongs.