Sometimes it’s not the voice or the words, but the tone of voice that communicates the most. The same is true of your instrument. Sometimes it’s not the notes or the phrase, as much as the tone of the instrument that communicates the feeling. But this is a lot easier to do with your voice than it is with your instrument. With the voice, it’s an automatic part of being human. You don’t have to think about how you express your emotions. It’s just natural.
But with instruments, the opposite is true. Not only do you have to think about it, you have to actively search for the proper tones. It’s found not only in the way you play your instrument, but also in the construction of the instrument, and the various pieces of equipment your instrument might be plugged in to in order to help generate it’s sound. Depending upon your instrument, you’ll typically have lots of buttons and knobs at your finger tips that all alter your instrument’s sound in some manner.
Add to this the myriad of effects that can be applied to instruments, like the guitar and keyboard, and now the tone possibilities seem overwhelming! Should you add reverb? Delay? Chorus? Phaser? Compression? Obviously the overwhelming number of options you have over your instrument’s sound makes it difficult to hone in on that perfect tone.
But the important aspect of your search for the ultimate tone is not the destination. It’s in the journey. You’ve no doubt heard this cliché before, but maybe not in the context of tone. So why am I saying that the search for tone is more important than finding a good tone? Primarily because I don’t believe there is a single “ultimate tone” for any one player. I think there’s an ultimate tone for a song, but not a player. The player should change their tone in subtle and not-so-subtle ways to make their instrument fit their own style and the particular song as well.
Not only should your tone be different for different songs, but your tone will probably evolve over time. Just as your listening tastes in music evolve over time, so will your tone preferences.
Through the process of searching for your ultimate tone (whatever that currently is for you) you are learning how to manipulate your instrument’s tone. And this is the most important aspect of your tone search: you learning how to manipulate your sound. Your ability to manipulate your sound on a regular basis, is the key for a successful tone search. How can you find your ultimate tone if you don’t continually alter your sound in pursuit of that tone? And along your journey, you will discover new and exciting tones. They may not be your favorite. But once you discover them, you’ll remember. And you will come back to those tones from time to time as you evolve. And this ability to revisit a multitude of tones is more important than finding that one ultimate tone.
It is good to finally find that awesome tone that one desires. After decades of searching, I found the tone I was looking for. But that’s just one tone. If I used that one tone all the time, it’d be like a human speaking with the same emotion all the time, like someone who’s always shouting because they are always angry. That would get on your nerves very quickly. Just like a human uses multiple tones, depending upon exactly what they wish to communicate, so should the song writer. The song writer should use different tones for different emotions, different attitudes. Your ability to dial in a tone to fit the moment, to fit the song, will depend upon your search for your ultimate tone, but not whether you’ve found it yet or not, because during your search you will have experienced several different attitudes from your instrument, several different tones.
The tone of your instrument is like the tone of your voice. Accordingly, your ability to apply the right tone (not the ultimate tone) is like your ability to apply the right attitude when you communicate through language. But just like your language communication skills, with your musical communication skills, it’s the range of tones you draw from, not one certain ultimate tone, that will best serve your song writing skills. And this is why your search for the ultimate tone is more important that you finally discovering your ultimate tone.
[Here are some hints as you search for your ultimate tone: Read the user manuals for all the equipment that your sound runs through, even if you’ve used these devices for years. You’d be surprised at all the information a mind can forget over the years. Use clean equipment, especially strings if you play guitar. New strings can alter your tone quite drastically for the better. Always make sure your instrument is tuned properly. And finally, understand how the characteristics of your equipment affects your tone. For example: does your guitar have humbucking or single coil pickups? Are you using the bridge or neck pickup? Are the pickups passive or active? Is your amp tube or solid state? Are you using a mic? Is the mic dynamic or condenser? Knowledge about your equipment and your effects is your most beneficial tool in your search for that ultimate tone!]
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
“Reject!” (Thoughts on Style & Quality)
I like to think of the song writer within me as having two split personalities: the artist and the editor. It’s the artist’s job to come up with new, creative ideas. And it’s the editor’s job to determine if the artist’s ideas are good enough to keep.
Although it may sound a bit schizophrenic to think this way, there are a lot of benefits. For instance, when you have an idea that you decide is not good enough to keep in a song, how does this affect your psyche? For most song writers, coming up with sub-par material is a negative experience. Not so, in my world. In my song writing world, when the artist has created an idea that the editor rejects, BOTH have done their jobs! The artist’s job is to come up with new, interesting, creative ideas. And the artist has done this! It’s given something to the editor to evaluate. And the editor has done his job, too! The editor has kept inferior work out of my song! The artist is responsible for creativity and the editor is responsible for quality. So in my world of song writing, the rejection of an idea is a good thing, not a bad thing! It’s the editor’s job to improve quality by keeping inferior work out. So the way I view song writing, a rejected idea is not a negative experience. It’s is a positive experience. It has served to improve the quality of my work.
The separation of the song writer within me into two separate personalities, the artist and the editor, allows me to keep my ego out of it, too. Because the artist part of me doesn’t care if it’s “good” or “bad”. The artist only cares if it’s new and creative. The fact that there’s no “good” or “bad” from the artist’s perspective allows me to keep my ego out of the creative processes. But it also keeps my ego from getting hurt when an idea is rejected by the editor. The editor is supposed to reject some things! Otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing his job! And his job is to keep inferior work out of my songs. But the editor is not just in charge of “good” versus “bad” decisions. It will also be making a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down decision based on stylistic tendencies.
And this is another aspect of the editor that is extremely important. The editor not only influences the quality of your work, he also has a great deal to do with your style. And this is an important concept. There are a lot of books about song writing. But within those books, you’ll find precious little information about the development of your style. It’s because this topic is difficult to put your arms around. What exactly is “style”? I would say that “style” consists of those aspects of your music that are uniquely you.
And how do you develop this aspect of your music that is uniquely you? How do you develop your style? This is another reason to separate the song writer within you into two personalities: the artist and the editor. Your artist should be focused on generating new ideas, but not whether they are “good” or “bad” ideas. That’s not the artist’s job. The artist is solely responsible for creating something new. This is where the “unique” part of your style comes in. It’s the creativity of your internal artist that provides that part of your style that is uniquely you.
But the editor has a great deal to do with style as well. And I’d say that the editor’s role in the development of your style is more important than the artist, because it’s the editor that will decide what to keep and what to throw away. Think of the style in your songs as being a lot like your hair style. Your hair style is created by taking all your hair, and cutting parts of it away. Your song writing style is created in a similar manner, by your editor cutting away some of the things your internal artist has written. Your style emerges from the songs (and parts of songs) that you decide to throw away. So it’s not just the quality of your songs that your internal editor controls. It also controls your style, too.
This past weekend, I sat down with an acoustic guitar in my hands, with the intention of writing a really good acoustic guitar tune. But this time, for some reason, I decided I was going to push myself in terms of the quality of this song. My approach was easy: there was no additional pressure on the artist within me. His job was still the same: to come up with new, creative musical expressions. It was my editor who had the tougher job. If I wanted a “really good” new song, it was up to my editor to raise the bar. My editor had to do a better job of keeping the mediocre parts out of this song.
I realized this approach of “raising the bar” on quality meant that I might walk away from this song writing session with nothing. But for the sake of quality, this was the path I decided to take. And sure enough, by the time I put my guitar down on Friday night, I did not have a complete song at all. As a matter of fact, I had only one part written. But I didn’t abandon this song. I knew I had a few hours on Saturday to continue writing, to continue the exploration of musical territory that is the process I call “song writing”. I continued my strict editing as I wrote the various parts of this new song. And by the time I put my guitar down on Saturday, sure enough, I had exactly what I had intended: a really good acoustic guitar tune.
A lot of song writers in my situation would have been uncomfortable, especially ending like I did on Friday with virtually no music written (at least not much “keeper” content). At this point, most song writing egos would have gotten involved with inner voices about being an inferior song writer. But my approach allowed me to avoid all that. I knew that my reduced output on Friday was a result of a very strict editor, not an inadequate artist. I knew that in the end, the quality of my work would be improved because of my approach. Most song writers would have left my Friday night session deflated at the lack of production. But I knew better. I knew that my artist and my editor both succeeded. My internal artist kept cranking out new ideas. And my internal editor rejected all but the very best. I didn’t get down on myself because I knew that Friday was very productive in terms of the quality of my work. The editor had a very productive evening on Friday, and because of this, my finished product on Saturday was much better than it would have been had my editor been lazy on Friday and let inferior parts into my new song.
There are many benefits from splitting the song writer within you into two parts: the artist and the editor. With the artist controlling the creativity and the editor controlling the quality, you have straightforward approaches for affecting the quality and style of your work. And you can do so without getting your ego involved at all. Even when you spend an evening hearing your internal editor say “Reject!” time and time again, you can do so without getting discouraged. You’ll feel just the opposite, because you’ll know that your internal editor is doing its job. You’ll know that every time it yells “Reject!” at one of your internal artist’s new ideas, the quality of your work and your style grows a little bit more.
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
Although it may sound a bit schizophrenic to think this way, there are a lot of benefits. For instance, when you have an idea that you decide is not good enough to keep in a song, how does this affect your psyche? For most song writers, coming up with sub-par material is a negative experience. Not so, in my world. In my song writing world, when the artist has created an idea that the editor rejects, BOTH have done their jobs! The artist’s job is to come up with new, interesting, creative ideas. And the artist has done this! It’s given something to the editor to evaluate. And the editor has done his job, too! The editor has kept inferior work out of my song! The artist is responsible for creativity and the editor is responsible for quality. So in my world of song writing, the rejection of an idea is a good thing, not a bad thing! It’s the editor’s job to improve quality by keeping inferior work out. So the way I view song writing, a rejected idea is not a negative experience. It’s is a positive experience. It has served to improve the quality of my work.
The separation of the song writer within me into two separate personalities, the artist and the editor, allows me to keep my ego out of it, too. Because the artist part of me doesn’t care if it’s “good” or “bad”. The artist only cares if it’s new and creative. The fact that there’s no “good” or “bad” from the artist’s perspective allows me to keep my ego out of the creative processes. But it also keeps my ego from getting hurt when an idea is rejected by the editor. The editor is supposed to reject some things! Otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing his job! And his job is to keep inferior work out of my songs. But the editor is not just in charge of “good” versus “bad” decisions. It will also be making a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down decision based on stylistic tendencies.
And this is another aspect of the editor that is extremely important. The editor not only influences the quality of your work, he also has a great deal to do with your style. And this is an important concept. There are a lot of books about song writing. But within those books, you’ll find precious little information about the development of your style. It’s because this topic is difficult to put your arms around. What exactly is “style”? I would say that “style” consists of those aspects of your music that are uniquely you.
And how do you develop this aspect of your music that is uniquely you? How do you develop your style? This is another reason to separate the song writer within you into two personalities: the artist and the editor. Your artist should be focused on generating new ideas, but not whether they are “good” or “bad” ideas. That’s not the artist’s job. The artist is solely responsible for creating something new. This is where the “unique” part of your style comes in. It’s the creativity of your internal artist that provides that part of your style that is uniquely you.
But the editor has a great deal to do with style as well. And I’d say that the editor’s role in the development of your style is more important than the artist, because it’s the editor that will decide what to keep and what to throw away. Think of the style in your songs as being a lot like your hair style. Your hair style is created by taking all your hair, and cutting parts of it away. Your song writing style is created in a similar manner, by your editor cutting away some of the things your internal artist has written. Your style emerges from the songs (and parts of songs) that you decide to throw away. So it’s not just the quality of your songs that your internal editor controls. It also controls your style, too.
This past weekend, I sat down with an acoustic guitar in my hands, with the intention of writing a really good acoustic guitar tune. But this time, for some reason, I decided I was going to push myself in terms of the quality of this song. My approach was easy: there was no additional pressure on the artist within me. His job was still the same: to come up with new, creative musical expressions. It was my editor who had the tougher job. If I wanted a “really good” new song, it was up to my editor to raise the bar. My editor had to do a better job of keeping the mediocre parts out of this song.
I realized this approach of “raising the bar” on quality meant that I might walk away from this song writing session with nothing. But for the sake of quality, this was the path I decided to take. And sure enough, by the time I put my guitar down on Friday night, I did not have a complete song at all. As a matter of fact, I had only one part written. But I didn’t abandon this song. I knew I had a few hours on Saturday to continue writing, to continue the exploration of musical territory that is the process I call “song writing”. I continued my strict editing as I wrote the various parts of this new song. And by the time I put my guitar down on Saturday, sure enough, I had exactly what I had intended: a really good acoustic guitar tune.
A lot of song writers in my situation would have been uncomfortable, especially ending like I did on Friday with virtually no music written (at least not much “keeper” content). At this point, most song writing egos would have gotten involved with inner voices about being an inferior song writer. But my approach allowed me to avoid all that. I knew that my reduced output on Friday was a result of a very strict editor, not an inadequate artist. I knew that in the end, the quality of my work would be improved because of my approach. Most song writers would have left my Friday night session deflated at the lack of production. But I knew better. I knew that my artist and my editor both succeeded. My internal artist kept cranking out new ideas. And my internal editor rejected all but the very best. I didn’t get down on myself because I knew that Friday was very productive in terms of the quality of my work. The editor had a very productive evening on Friday, and because of this, my finished product on Saturday was much better than it would have been had my editor been lazy on Friday and let inferior parts into my new song.
There are many benefits from splitting the song writer within you into two parts: the artist and the editor. With the artist controlling the creativity and the editor controlling the quality, you have straightforward approaches for affecting the quality and style of your work. And you can do so without getting your ego involved at all. Even when you spend an evening hearing your internal editor say “Reject!” time and time again, you can do so without getting discouraged. You’ll feel just the opposite, because you’ll know that your internal editor is doing its job. You’ll know that every time it yells “Reject!” at one of your internal artist’s new ideas, the quality of your work and your style grows a little bit more.
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
Monday, December 7, 2009
The Dichotomy
Last week, my latest rock band had its first live show. For me, a little bit of nervousness is usual before a live show. It typically disappears after the first few notes of the set. But this time, as the date approached I found myself getting more nervous than usual. As I tried to analyze why, I realized it was because of the songs this band had written. I wasn’t nervous about how the band would perform. I was nervous about how the band and its songs would be received by the crowd. You see, this band had a set of 8 songs ready to perform, all of them instrumental songs. We had written all of these songs, and had rehearsed them for months. We had even already spent time in a recording studio and had a good EP of 5 of these songs ready to sell. So I knew that as musicians we were prepared for the show. But as one of the major contributors to the song writing of this band, I was anxious about how the crowd would react to a rock band with no vocals. That is indeed a rare thing in the music world these days, especially for a band that plays relatively heavy alternative, progressive rock.
And I realized that the dichotomy I was feeling before this performance was a very typical experience for a song writer. And it’s also a dangerous situation for song writers too. Not dangerous in terms of one’s physical safety, but dangerous from the perspective of your style.
The dichotomy is this: when I’m writing a song and making various decisions along the way, am I making those decisions based on what I think other people will like, or am I making those decisions based on what rocks my world as an artist? I am a firm believer in the latter, not the former. And that’s why I was so nervous. The music was NOT written with the perspective of “will other folks like this?” constantly popping up in our heads. And it’s my opinion that more of an artist’s style emerges when they write this way.
So, in hindsight, my nervousness was a good thing. Right before the show, it made sense that I was anxious, wondering if the crowd would like the music, because I hadn’t given this any consideration when writing the tunes! That’s why it was a good thing. It meant that I was true to my art, and wrote for the right reasons, for me and this band of musicians, not for a “target audience.” When I realized this, I was happy about this particular flavor of nervousness. Because it meant I was honest about the song writing. I honestly did write what I felt, not what I thought people would like.
But let me go into more detail about our approach to song writing in this band. We do eventually want a singer. We simply haven’t found the right one yet. But we are not going to put this band on hold until we find the right singer. Until then, we’ll continue doing what we do, writing and making music, and even taking it to the public with performances and recordings. For us, this current limitation of having no singer means (1) the music has to be strong enough to stand on its own without any vocals and (2) because there aren’t vocals, we can shed the usual song structures (think of the typical alternating verse/chorus style of song).
And we were very careful of this responsibility and freedom of writing without a vocalist. The responsibility was the challenge to write music that was interesting enough without singing. It meant the instruments needed to be more melodic. It meant the dynamics and internal changes of each song needed to be more dramatic in order to communicate the emotion more effectively. And it also meant embracing the freedom of not having a vocalist in order to pull off these things. For instance, after singing the first verse and first chorus of a song, the singer (and audience) expect that song to go repeat the verse again, but with different words. In this case, the same music for the verse is repeated, but it’s a time for the vocalist to tell more of the song’s story. But why would an instrumental song need this same sort of repeating structure? There’s simply no need for it. Of course, we still have repeated parts, because the music listening mind appreciates this. But we were able to be a lot more creative with our song structures and were able to write songs whose structures are a lot more interesting than verse/chorus/verse/chorus.
And how did the crowd react to our first show? We got an overwhelming response. One fan told me “you guys don’t need a vocalist at all!” He went on to explain that our 50 minute set remained entertaining throughout, despite there being no words. Another fan told me she looked around during the show and saw most people watching and listening very intently. The comments from other fans and other bands were very positive as well. And reviewing the audio and video tapes from the show, we realize we’ve got a really special band here with a truly identifiable unique style. Because as song writers, we did not compromise by writing songs we thought would be well received. We wrote what inspired us as musicians, taking the opportunity to be creative in the way we wrote songs (in our case because we have no singer). The result is a band that truly has its own style. We broke rules (like the verse/chorus song structures) because we had no reason to follow those rules. And we took advantage of the situation and this contributed to our style.
So back to the dichotomy: should you follow the trends and write what you think will be popular or should you ignore song popularity and do what’s totally you instead? Do what’s totally you! You don’t need to copy anyone else, or to mimic what’s popular. You won’t find your own style that way. You find your style by breaking the norm, and breaking the rules. Don’t do something in your song just because everyone else does it, or because it’s expected. Yes, this will cause some tense moments, like mine, right before the live show, wondering how people will react to the music. But this is well worth it, a fair trade for writing without any compromises to your song’s “marketability.”
Finding your own, unique style is a difficult process in music. But you won’t find your own style by copying others again and again. When you write, question each decision you make. Why are you doing it this way? Because that’s the way you usually do it? Because that’s the way others usually do it? If these are the only reasons, then challenge yourself to change the way you are doing it in your song! Find another way to communicate the idea, but in a fresh new way.
Be diligent in your approach to this song writer’s dichotomy. As much as you can, follow your own unique internal artist’s spirit when you create, and avoid the “because that’s the way popular songs do it” approach. Enough of that will creep into your music anyway, just because you’ve listened to so many songs over the years. But if you do like my band, and embrace the responsibilities and freedoms that you face as a song writer, you will be absolutely thrilled when you identify that unique style of YOU shining through!
[By the way, I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing to have a popular song. It’s obviously a good thing for an artist’s career. But popularity should be a by-product of your writing, not the primary goal of your writing. Write because you enjoy it, and with the development of your style in mind. With the key in that last phrase on "development" more than "style".]
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
And I realized that the dichotomy I was feeling before this performance was a very typical experience for a song writer. And it’s also a dangerous situation for song writers too. Not dangerous in terms of one’s physical safety, but dangerous from the perspective of your style.
The dichotomy is this: when I’m writing a song and making various decisions along the way, am I making those decisions based on what I think other people will like, or am I making those decisions based on what rocks my world as an artist? I am a firm believer in the latter, not the former. And that’s why I was so nervous. The music was NOT written with the perspective of “will other folks like this?” constantly popping up in our heads. And it’s my opinion that more of an artist’s style emerges when they write this way.
So, in hindsight, my nervousness was a good thing. Right before the show, it made sense that I was anxious, wondering if the crowd would like the music, because I hadn’t given this any consideration when writing the tunes! That’s why it was a good thing. It meant that I was true to my art, and wrote for the right reasons, for me and this band of musicians, not for a “target audience.” When I realized this, I was happy about this particular flavor of nervousness. Because it meant I was honest about the song writing. I honestly did write what I felt, not what I thought people would like.
But let me go into more detail about our approach to song writing in this band. We do eventually want a singer. We simply haven’t found the right one yet. But we are not going to put this band on hold until we find the right singer. Until then, we’ll continue doing what we do, writing and making music, and even taking it to the public with performances and recordings. For us, this current limitation of having no singer means (1) the music has to be strong enough to stand on its own without any vocals and (2) because there aren’t vocals, we can shed the usual song structures (think of the typical alternating verse/chorus style of song).
And we were very careful of this responsibility and freedom of writing without a vocalist. The responsibility was the challenge to write music that was interesting enough without singing. It meant the instruments needed to be more melodic. It meant the dynamics and internal changes of each song needed to be more dramatic in order to communicate the emotion more effectively. And it also meant embracing the freedom of not having a vocalist in order to pull off these things. For instance, after singing the first verse and first chorus of a song, the singer (and audience) expect that song to go repeat the verse again, but with different words. In this case, the same music for the verse is repeated, but it’s a time for the vocalist to tell more of the song’s story. But why would an instrumental song need this same sort of repeating structure? There’s simply no need for it. Of course, we still have repeated parts, because the music listening mind appreciates this. But we were able to be a lot more creative with our song structures and were able to write songs whose structures are a lot more interesting than verse/chorus/verse/chorus.
And how did the crowd react to our first show? We got an overwhelming response. One fan told me “you guys don’t need a vocalist at all!” He went on to explain that our 50 minute set remained entertaining throughout, despite there being no words. Another fan told me she looked around during the show and saw most people watching and listening very intently. The comments from other fans and other bands were very positive as well. And reviewing the audio and video tapes from the show, we realize we’ve got a really special band here with a truly identifiable unique style. Because as song writers, we did not compromise by writing songs we thought would be well received. We wrote what inspired us as musicians, taking the opportunity to be creative in the way we wrote songs (in our case because we have no singer). The result is a band that truly has its own style. We broke rules (like the verse/chorus song structures) because we had no reason to follow those rules. And we took advantage of the situation and this contributed to our style.
So back to the dichotomy: should you follow the trends and write what you think will be popular or should you ignore song popularity and do what’s totally you instead? Do what’s totally you! You don’t need to copy anyone else, or to mimic what’s popular. You won’t find your own style that way. You find your style by breaking the norm, and breaking the rules. Don’t do something in your song just because everyone else does it, or because it’s expected. Yes, this will cause some tense moments, like mine, right before the live show, wondering how people will react to the music. But this is well worth it, a fair trade for writing without any compromises to your song’s “marketability.”
Finding your own, unique style is a difficult process in music. But you won’t find your own style by copying others again and again. When you write, question each decision you make. Why are you doing it this way? Because that’s the way you usually do it? Because that’s the way others usually do it? If these are the only reasons, then challenge yourself to change the way you are doing it in your song! Find another way to communicate the idea, but in a fresh new way.
Be diligent in your approach to this song writer’s dichotomy. As much as you can, follow your own unique internal artist’s spirit when you create, and avoid the “because that’s the way popular songs do it” approach. Enough of that will creep into your music anyway, just because you’ve listened to so many songs over the years. But if you do like my band, and embrace the responsibilities and freedoms that you face as a song writer, you will be absolutely thrilled when you identify that unique style of YOU shining through!
[By the way, I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing to have a popular song. It’s obviously a good thing for an artist’s career. But popularity should be a by-product of your writing, not the primary goal of your writing. Write because you enjoy it, and with the development of your style in mind. With the key in that last phrase on "development" more than "style".]
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
What’s the Score?
When the word “score” is used in the context of music, it usually refers to the written sheet music. But that’s not what I meant by the title phrase “What’s the score?” I was referring to the usual meaning of “score”: the measure of the outcome of some competition. Unfortunately, our society has made a competition out of almost everything, music included. And, like it or not, as a song writer you will be a part of the sport of music.
Of course, music is not a sport. That’s exactly why I use the phrase “the sport of music” to refer to all those competitive aspects of the music industry, that have nothing to do with the music itself, but with the marketing of that music. How much has the song sold? How many Grammy’s has it won? How many downloads?
But there’s another aspect to the sport of music as well. This other athletic side of music deals with musician acrobatics. You know what I’m talking about, the kind of musician who is so freakishly good at their instrument that all jaws drop in the audience at the shear display of physical agility! Of course, the music is good, but the awe factor is in the athletic achievement, how fast the musician can play, or the circus-like atmosphere of performance tricks.
As you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m using the “sport of music” in a negative context, to refer to all the “gee, look at me” aspects of music, anything that you try to put a number on in an effort to rank it against other songs. As soon as you have done this, as soon as you try to reduce music into a ranking, 1 through 100 of the “best” according to some criteria, then you have missed the point of music.
The point of music is to express emotion. Do we have competitions for other emotional outlets in our society? Do we have a national crying champion? A world record holder in happiness? An Olympic champion in love? No. Such ideas seem ridiculous, because emotion is an aspect of being human that we all share. For instance, with love, we all feel like there will be an opportunity for us to experience the best this emotion has to offer at some point in our lives. Similarly, we’ll all feel happy at certain times in our lives, and we’ll all feel depressed at other times. No human is exempt from these emotions or the depth of these emotions. It’s quite a bit different with real sports, where only a select few can be expected to achieve the pinnacle, the gold medal, or the world record. While there can only be one fastest man alive, emotions aren’t like sports. No one has to train hour after hour, day after day, year after year in order to be the world’s angriest man. It takes no training. All it takes is a little time behind the wheel during rush hour, and your stress and anger levels would no doubt rival the world’s angriest (if indeed there was a competition for this sort of thing).
My point behind all this “the sport of music” talk is to get you to place your ego in proper perspective when you share your music with the world, whether it’s playing live, sending your demo mp3s to friends and family, or just singing to your mate. Despite what the “sport of music” industry would like you to think, music is not a competition. Music is emotion, not an athletic event. Music is about expressing how you feel. And who can truly measure whether you express how you feel accurately? Only you.
The real crux of the issue is this: your musical abilities and your skill level do not matter as much as how you use them. You should concentrate on expressing your feelings in the most creative, artistic way possible using your current level of skill and ability, no more, and no less. The honesty and integrity of your work will add more than any “gee whiz, look at me” techniques your ego might want to throw in anyway. Simple songs can be just as powerful as complex songs. Average musicians can express just as much emotion as elite musicians.
As you evolve as a song writer, try not to get caught up in the numbers of it all, in the “sport of music”. If you are happy with your songs, if you get the occasional “I can really identify with what you are saying” comments in response to your work, and if you are steadily improving your craft, then there’s no need to wonder what the score is. If you are communicating effectively with your music, regardless of your current skill level, your song writing goals will take care of themselves. You will steadily improve, and will produce some surprising gems along the way!
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
Of course, music is not a sport. That’s exactly why I use the phrase “the sport of music” to refer to all those competitive aspects of the music industry, that have nothing to do with the music itself, but with the marketing of that music. How much has the song sold? How many Grammy’s has it won? How many downloads?
But there’s another aspect to the sport of music as well. This other athletic side of music deals with musician acrobatics. You know what I’m talking about, the kind of musician who is so freakishly good at their instrument that all jaws drop in the audience at the shear display of physical agility! Of course, the music is good, but the awe factor is in the athletic achievement, how fast the musician can play, or the circus-like atmosphere of performance tricks.
As you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m using the “sport of music” in a negative context, to refer to all the “gee, look at me” aspects of music, anything that you try to put a number on in an effort to rank it against other songs. As soon as you have done this, as soon as you try to reduce music into a ranking, 1 through 100 of the “best” according to some criteria, then you have missed the point of music.
The point of music is to express emotion. Do we have competitions for other emotional outlets in our society? Do we have a national crying champion? A world record holder in happiness? An Olympic champion in love? No. Such ideas seem ridiculous, because emotion is an aspect of being human that we all share. For instance, with love, we all feel like there will be an opportunity for us to experience the best this emotion has to offer at some point in our lives. Similarly, we’ll all feel happy at certain times in our lives, and we’ll all feel depressed at other times. No human is exempt from these emotions or the depth of these emotions. It’s quite a bit different with real sports, where only a select few can be expected to achieve the pinnacle, the gold medal, or the world record. While there can only be one fastest man alive, emotions aren’t like sports. No one has to train hour after hour, day after day, year after year in order to be the world’s angriest man. It takes no training. All it takes is a little time behind the wheel during rush hour, and your stress and anger levels would no doubt rival the world’s angriest (if indeed there was a competition for this sort of thing).
My point behind all this “the sport of music” talk is to get you to place your ego in proper perspective when you share your music with the world, whether it’s playing live, sending your demo mp3s to friends and family, or just singing to your mate. Despite what the “sport of music” industry would like you to think, music is not a competition. Music is emotion, not an athletic event. Music is about expressing how you feel. And who can truly measure whether you express how you feel accurately? Only you.
The real crux of the issue is this: your musical abilities and your skill level do not matter as much as how you use them. You should concentrate on expressing your feelings in the most creative, artistic way possible using your current level of skill and ability, no more, and no less. The honesty and integrity of your work will add more than any “gee whiz, look at me” techniques your ego might want to throw in anyway. Simple songs can be just as powerful as complex songs. Average musicians can express just as much emotion as elite musicians.
As you evolve as a song writer, try not to get caught up in the numbers of it all, in the “sport of music”. If you are happy with your songs, if you get the occasional “I can really identify with what you are saying” comments in response to your work, and if you are steadily improving your craft, then there’s no need to wonder what the score is. If you are communicating effectively with your music, regardless of your current skill level, your song writing goals will take care of themselves. You will steadily improve, and will produce some surprising gems along the way!
Copyright ©2009 W.A. Blevins
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