Too many trucks?

I was laying in bed last night in head-imploding allergy agony. For some reason, I started thinking of all the songs I’d heard on the radio that day with some combination of ‘dirt road’, ‘truck’, ‘tail gate’ and ‘cut off jeans’. I’m trying to put my finger on why those words frustrate me. Is it because I don’t have the specific personal memories to relate? Or because it just feels like too many people are saying the same thing? Not all the lines in all these songs are the same, of course. But those bits and pieces stick out to me and I wonder if they could’ve tried harder on those lyrics; if they’re just filler. But, at the same time, I am listening to those songs on the radio. So, clearly, I’ve something to learn from them!

I started imagining the scenes. Driving off away from the hustle and bustle to be alone in nature with the woman you love. It’s certainly an inviting scene.

Maybe the dirt road and the jean shorts and the truck and the tail gate are the common triggers that country fans and folks from the south and west all remember fondly from their own stories. The rest of the lyrics are the writer’s story, which is widely accessible and friendly, but it’s one person’s story. Maybe that handful of commonly recurring trigger words are the things that bridge the gap between the writer’s/singer’s story and the listener’s own similar stories. Between the song's fantasy and life's reality.

And maybe I’m just sore that I don’t have some of my own teenaged, back-country road snuggle memories. After all, I never had a truck, just borrowed my folks’ K-car occasionally!

Well, wouldn’t you know it, but that allergy headache kept me awake long enough to write two verses and a chorus for my own little back-country road snuggle song. No mention of a truck or dirt road or cutoffs, but there are jeans and t-shirts and boots and trees and grass and beer and water. Some of my own faves. And a girl who I’d one day like to be in the scene with.

And, yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a truck too. :-)

Let Hope Jump First

In June, it was hard to think of much else besides my departure date on the 29th. I'd spend two months in Nashville, working via email during the day for my boss in Toronto, playing as many writers rounds as I could at night, writing and meeting people to co-write with. I was looking forward to the summer journey, knowing that it was also the beginning of a larger and longer one. I was feeling hopeful. Scared too.

On June 15, I wrote "Let Hope Jump First"

Well it’s that little leap of faith
And it’s that little prayer you say
With the first step on your way
To something bigger

When you feel beaten down
Just look inside and not around
There’s something better to be found
If you dig deeper

Yeah, there's a great divide
With all your dreams on the other side

CHORUS
Let hope jump first, you might be surprised
Where it’ll land and how far it flies
Send it on ahead, then follow up behind
Just plant your feet one at a time

Instead of standing still
And worrying what might be the worst
Let hope jump first

Son, I’ve been in your shoes
Hesitated on a move
Terrified that I might lose
But that ain’t playing

Now I know, there's a great divide
And all your dreams are on the other side

REPEAT CHORUS

BRIDGE
With hope, you’re never looking back
It keeps your heartbeat racing fast and forward

REPEAT CHORUS

When I sing the song these days, I sometimes get a little choked up. I'm so thankful for that hook line. It's a constant reminder to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Nasty things may indeed happen along the way, like crashing my bike last June. But we can't let 'the maybes' scare us away from what may be. The good comes with the bad. Proof in the pudding: the weird turn that things took last June lead me to make some great friends in Nashville who are now helping me get things straightened away for future visits.

As I get set for the next one in March, I'm only now nearly recovered from the last visit! After five months of physiotherapy, my wrist is pretty much back to normal. I'm exercising again. Even did a few [modified] push ups this week! I'm happy with the music I've been writing lately. Happier in general. Still not writing as frequently as I'd like, but I'm constantly pondering and making notes. I'm much better at and more comfortable with writing without an instrument, which has definitely helped my lyrical focus and melody lines.

Of course, prepping for 'the move' is eating up a lot of time and energy. I'm moving out of my apartment so I can afford to make more frequent visits to Nashville. When I was there last summer, I paid two rents the whole time. But I can't stay afloat for long like that! There's no set schedule or timing, but I reckon I'll be able to head south every two-three months. I have to be in Canada for certain periods of time to keep my healthcare and auto insurance -- and I sure don't want to lose either of those! For stints on the home front in Toronto, I'll rely on a combination of short-term rentals, friend's guest rooms and hopefully some house-sits to help pinch more pennies. Keep me in mind if you're taking sabbatical!

I've been purging like crazy, giving away books, donating clothes, tossing more useless junk than I care to admit. What's left will go in a storage locker. After that, it's just a duffel bag and guitar for the next year or so. Who knows what'll come of it, but it's gonna be an adventure!

"Instead of standing still
And worrying what might be the worst
Let hope jump first"

Little Victories

On December 5, I submitted my 14th song to NSAI for online evaluation. I've written more songs than that, it's just the 14th I’ve submitted for evaluation since I started down the country road, since my first trip to Nashville in December 2011.

I just got the feedback and I’m pretty stoked. It couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m in the process of making some kind of scary changes in my life that’ll enable me to spend more time in Nashville. With change comes uncertainty and fear, and a little reassurance is just what I needed.

The song is called Find Me A Highway and I wrote it with my friend Emily Hurson here in Toronto. I think we got together twice and ended up with three songs and one hangover. Not bad stats. We started this one in June and got the verse and chorus melody lines, first verse lyrics, and bits and pieces of ideas for the rest of it. We shelved it while I was away for the summer, so I tied up the loose ends in October and ran them by Emily. She liked the lyrics but reminded me of some rhythmic and melodic elements I’d forgotten about. Go team!

This is what the NSAI evaluation had to say:

Congratulations, the evaluator who reviewed your song believes you are showing significant progress in your writing and you are one to watch!

********************************************************************
NASHVILLE SONGWRITERS ASSOCIATION INTERNATIONAL SONG EVALUATION
********************************************************************

FORM/STRUCTURE: You have V/C/V/C/B/Ctag. That’s the right structure.

TITLE/HOOK: It’s a good hook. You use it in a memorable way and you have a good set up.

LYRIC: This is pretty cool. The phrasing is very interesting and different. This is something that has been written before, but you have put a different spin on it. It’s clear and to the point and you have good rhymes schemes

OVERALL THEME/IDEA: It’s a good theme. This can work for the country market.

MELODY/METER (IF APPLICABLE): This is cool and contemporary. I’m not sure because I mostly hear fiddle and though I find the phrasing interesting, it feels a bit off meter in some spots. Not sure, so go over it and make sure it all feels natural. The bridge works great.

CLOSING COMMENTS: This is really cool. I am going to mark the one to watch box, because I don’t think this a hit, but it shows your sensibilities and your talent. Keep up the good work.

And here's the demo submitted:

If you love something, set it free.

When I set out on the road to Nashville a year or so ago, I reckoned I’d meet some people, make some friends, eventually get introduced to someone by someone by someone who liked my songs after hearing me play them in a bar or by passing along a CD or MP3. I didn't think it'd happen in a year of traveling back and forth, but I thought it would eventually happen that way, and I should keep the songs close to my chest until that someone came along.

I’ve been reluctant/afraid to post the songs on the internet for anybody to hear. My thinking was that one of the existing songs will be the one to get things rolling – but that an artist might not be interested if the song is already kicking around out there on the ol’ internet. I just thought they’d be less likely to want to put their stamp on it, if it already had somebody else’s on it, even little ol' me.

On the other side of the coin, which has only recently come into focus, I’ve been thinking that my objective should shift form trying to physically meet someone who’ll agree to listen to the songs, to just letting the current songs free to be heard by any pair of ears and to eventually find the right pair that’ll want to hear more. So, rather than expecting any of the existing songs to get picked up and recorded, I'm shifting my mindset to the hope that they’ll spark some curiosity and help get me into a writing situation where I can create the song that does become the first successful single.

So that’s what’s been stewing for a while. Long enough, I s’pose. A friend once told me to “take more risks” and “know that you will never run out of ideas.” That advice has been bouncing around a lot in my head these days as I’ve been working up the nerve to do this... nudge open the cage door.

This one’s called "Say You Love Me, That’s All":

Say You Love Me That's All by MichaelLake

That’s Nathan Smith on the violin.

Hope you like it.

Knock some cute out of it

My Nashville apartment rental was up near the end of August and, since I was sans bike, my original plan to spend early September riding and camping around Tennessee was kyboshed. So I snipped the tail off the trip and found a cheapish flight back to Toronto.

The day before I left, I went to a quarterly audition for the Bluebird Café Sunday writers’ night. Successfuls get to play three songs in front of the most attentive packed house in North America while the evening’s headliner warms up out back. You get graded on your first Sunday night performance and then could get invited into the regular shuffle of evening shows. It’s a foot in the door of the mini music meca that is the Bluebird. 

I arrived super early and lined up behind about 20 even earlier birds to spend a couple hours waiting in the sweltering sun. Doors opened at 11:00 and we played in order of arrival. No preambles, no long musical intros—just your name, the song title, a verse, a chorus and a thank you m’am. Lemme tell ya, that all goes by pretty quick.

I was still in a brace and couldn’t play guitar. The cast had come off a couple weeks before but the wrist wasn’t up to much of anything except basking in the glorious daily sprinkle of hot shower water that it’d missed for the previous six weeks. So my Airbnb landlord backed me up on guitar. He’d also lent me his car to get there that morning, scootering over later to meet me once the doors opened. He was in and out like a six-string superman. Left me looking around for the phone booth.

I reckon there were about 80 hopefuls. The organizer’s intro said that, on average, about 10% of people get the nod. That meant, 70 or so of us would be getting rejection emails a few weeks later—if this was a good day. I sang and played tamborine and an egg shaker. It felt fun. I chose an upbeat little love song.

I listened intently to everybody before and after me until the break about an hour later (I had to split and get the borrowed car back, after all). There was a wide mix of talent and proficiency. There were drinking songs, love songs, heartbreak songs, Christian songs, inspirational dream songs, even a comedic tune. Most people seemed pretty comfortable, but there were a few nervous wrecks and fretboard fumblers. I admired them even more for getting up there.

There were some good guitarists, a few really good singers, and a bunch of really nice lines scattered here and there. But no whole song that really jumped out and made me wish I’d written it. I figured there were three or four of us within nod territory and, I must admit, I was feeling pretty confident about my song, performance and chances. But still... only 10% on a good day. Hmm... I wondered did anyone else have a mental list of probables? Was I on it?

The Bluebird folks said we’d hear back in three weeks.

Nearly two months went by. I couldn’t write very well on audition day because of the brace, so I had other people putting my name and email on the various lists. Had I paid enough attention to their dictation? I checked in with a few people who were at my table that day. Nobody’d heard yet. A week later, the mystery was revealed. A shake, not a nod. On my birthday, no less.

You saw it coming, didn’t you?

I must admit, I was surprised and pretty bummed out. The email was very matter-of-fact, which I totally respect. I hope to impress people, but I don’t want to be coddled if I don’t. A snippet:

"Though we do not give specific evaluations, here are some general observations about the auditions... redundancy, too many clichés, didn’t make sense, boring, trite, been done already, etc. These comments may not have been about your song, but it’s possible that your song might fall into one of these categories."

I can honestly say my lyrics weren’t redundant. The story moves along with a very clear beginning, middle and end. Point #2: Yeah, the title is a cliché, although I haven’t heard of a song with that title before, and I thought I put a pretty cool spin on it. But still, a cliché. Did it make sense? I’m confident in saying it’s a clear story, and I’ve had it reviewed by a number of people at NSAI, SOCAN, other songwriters, etc, at various stages of the multiple edits it’s been through. Was it boring? That of course is in the ear of the beholder but I honestly didn’t think so. Good story, only real repetition of words was in the hook and there were plenty of other lines between them in the chorus. Nice melody, upbeat. Was it trite/done already? The story is of a lifelong pair of friends who end up as a couple because it’s the only love that mattered their whole lives. Like they were born for each other. That’s probably a story that’s been told a bunch of times, but in different words, different characters. Hell, I dunno. Then I got this feeling in my gut that maybe it was just too cute, which could extrapolate into not all that realistic or everyday which is a pretty strong foundation in country music.

Well, anyway, the song didn’t get me a Bluebird show, but I still play it and enjoy it. I think it’s a got a great rhythm, kind of a shuffle, and nice original yet easy to follow melody lines. The chord progression is dynamic and strong. I love the chorus lyrics. Who knows, maybe I’ll rewrite everything else and see if I can knock some cute out of it. 


 

Rose-coloured glasses

I feel like a giddy junkie scoring on the sidewalk in broad daylight outside the slammer after 60 days. I’m importing to iTunes the 20 or so CDs that I bought or traded for my own in Nashville but couldn’t listen to there because the disk drive in my laptop was acting wonky the whole time.

I have a funny feeling that my favourite will be Mountain Sea by Desert Noises. I saw them twice and must admit I have a huge crush on this soft-spoken, loud-playin’ four-piece from Utah. I was the guy in the crowd yelling Utah!! Couldn’t contain myself. They are amazing. Like a modern-day beachless Beach Boys at their mature, Pet Sounds best. Only different. In close second will likely be Dead Woman Walkin’ by Megan Jean and the KFB. KFB stands for Klay Family Band, but it could just as easily stand for Kickass Fuckin’ Banjo. Maybe you can get it on iTunes, but don’t. Google them and get yourself a plane ticket. Buy them drinks and a hotel room. This husband-wife duo have been living in their car and touring the good ol’ USA for years, playing 200 shows every 365 days. Calm Byrne plays banjo and electric guitar. Animated Megan Jean plays acoustic guitar, kick drum, hardcore washboard and lungs from somewhere just the other side of Purgatory.

If that plane ticket happens to land you near Nashville, spend Tuesday nights at The Basement. It’s New Faces night, where unknown and occasionally eventually-to-be-massive artists play 15 minutes each with the coveted final act allotted 20 whole luscious minutes. It’s a crap shoot. You may indeed hear crap. But you will hear gold. That’s where I heard Desert Noises and Megan Jean & the KFB. Split your other nights between The Basement and Belcourt Taps where I saw many great country rounds and traveling bands. Let’s not forget the Bluebird and 12th and Porter. Oh, the list of venues is too long. But there are my four favourites.

My friend Gina gives frequent thanks to her friends and the universe in general for what she calls the abundance in her life. Gina is not rich. Not the way you’d normally define it, anyway. But she sees it differently and has helped me see things a little differently too.

I returned home to abundance indeed. A brilliant young local violinist emailed to say he just found an apartment in town and asked when my wrist would be healed enough so we can play together again. Another old friend said she is selling her downtown condo, did I want a deal? I’m considering. I had a great chat with my boss, for whom I’ve been working remotely for the past two months from Nashville via email and Skype. She is in full support of the plan to continue trekking back and forth across the border in search of a Nashville cut. An energetic and melodic young pop-jazz songwriter I met at the Bluebird Café Sunday evening emailed to ask when I’d be south again, maybe we can co-write.

I am in a state of flux. Hovering between the poetic introspective alt-rock songs about uncertainty from my past and the inspiration to write more universal and positive pop and country songs for my future. I’ve been so inspired and touched by several indie rock, country and quirky acts these past two months. I can’t tell which way the weather vane is pointing.

Nothing “big” has happened, but I am a touch drunk with possibility, much of it simply unseen or underappreciated before.

Many thanks to Pauline, Oliver, Gina, Richard, Ashley, the NSAI office gang, Rob, Steve, Rose, Ambra, Roy, Gabe, Jesse, Emma, Rocky. I must be forgetting a few, apologies.

My summer in Nashville wasn’t at all what it was supposed to be. I crashed my bike. Busted my wrist. Broke my heart. Nothing went according to plan. Plan A, that is. 

Look around you, my friends. Put on your rose-coloured glasses. Throw away your other lenses. What good are they anyway?

Look ma, no hands

For the first time in my life, I have written a complete song without once playing a chord or even touching an instrument, or scribbling on paper. Lyrics into MS Word (don't believe everything you read in a headline), melody into iPhone. I look forward to discovering what key it's in!

With all due respect to Messieurs Scaphoid and Radius—and though I eagerly await your return to the lineup—it was quite gratifying indeed.