"Hope to see all of you in Nashville this summer!"
On The Subject of Song Craft Coaching, Part Two
I find it interesting how vehement some folks become when I state this simple fact: Songwriters are particularly resistant to coaching and feedback.
Implied by these protests are the following questions: How dare you suggest that gifted and intuitive tunesmiths should adhere to somebody else's rules, follow any formula, or study the traditions of pop song craft? Geniuses should not be subjected to the scrutiny of so-called experts, they claim. After all, who is to say what is a viable composition and what is not?
Admittedly, these are excellent thoughts and worthy of discussion. However, I don't consider myself an expert on anything, just a guy—with 40 years of professional experience and more credits than even the snootiest noses would sneeze at—who just might have something to offer to those who desire to hone and refine their craft. Because, regardless of how lofty the level of expression or how much genius goes into creating it, writing a pop song is essentially a craft, not an art. Yes, some songwriters achieve art. But, the process is really all about conceiving an idea, identifying and selecting the best available components, and assembling them into a new, fresh, solidly constructed, finished product (very much like designing and building cabinetry is a craft that has the potential of rising to the level of art).
If a writer is truly gifted, coaching detractors portend, no one should offer a single opinion that might divert him from his destined creative path. Certainly, every writer has his or her own unique point of view—that's a Muse that should never be muted. However, I was struck by an article in the Sports section of The Tennessean about Titans quarterback, Vince Young. Few athletes were born with more natural talent and passion for the game. A born leader, Vince is tall, strong, coordinated, mobile, fleet of foot, and wants more than anything to win. Using those innate gifts, he nearly single-handedly took his college team to a national championship. Yet, in order to become successful at his position in the NFL, Young has accepted the fact that he needs coaching on various aspects of his game. He could've just said, "Sorry, I'm God's gift to football. I'm a winner. Don't mess with me." Yet, you see, that's precisely what too many songwriters do. They bring their native abilities to the table, along with the pronouncement, "Take 'em or leave 'em."
Shaquille O'Neil is an astounding specimen of strength, power, and coordination. But, just like nearly every dominant frontline player in the NBA, Shaq refined his footwork by working with big-man coach, Pete Newell. Why? Because getting that extra half step on an opponent under the basket makes all the difference—even at seven-one/330. In the same way, even for a writer with a special, God-given spark, a song craft coach might suggest a fresh rhyme scheme or a way to use imagery that opens up heretofore unseen creative vistas. Or, a well-expressed, objective, constructive, and professional perspective just might shed some light on how one song is slightly missing the mark, and how that same composition, with tweaking, could potentially hit the center of the bulls eye. Could that kind of input be something of great value to a writer—even a burgeoning genius? I contend so.
Gillian Welch is revered as a song crafter of exceptional inspiration. As organic as her body of work is, Gillian is also a Berklee grad and spent several years under the tutelage of one of the world's pre-eminent songwriting instructors, Pat Pattison. My old friend, Tom Snow, who has penned dozens of contemporary standards is also a Berklee alum. After studying classical piano for seven years, I attended composition courses at Oberlin. Even with that legit music-theory background, I probably could have accelerated my progress considerably, had I found a mentor to help me develop my pop/rock craftsmanship. Although in my 20s, I stumbled into composing some relatively decent songs and had a little bit of success, maybe I might have come closer to matching Tom Snow's output, had I been smart enough to find a mentor to help me sharpen my skills. I was 53 before I had my first #1 in the U.S. I wonder if most headstrong twenty-somethings have the stamina and commitment to wait 30 years for their ship to finally come in.
(For the last 8 years, my daughter, Emily, has been the executive assistant to the head curator of the world's preeminent contemporary art museum: MOCA. In that capacity, it has become evident to her that, in order to get a major museum installation or art gallery showing, the artist of today needs to have an MFA. So, at 32, Emily has left her secure MOCA position to pursue her higher education. Imagine what it would be like if songwriters had to procure a graduate degree to have their songs considered for major artists. So, chillax. At least the music-biz isn't as rigid and tough to crack as the world of fine art.)
Now, let's talk pragmatics. How many writers barrel on ahead out of pure enthusiasm, investing hundreds of dollars into demoing songs that, in the long run, are not as good or as solid as they could potentially be? From my experience, this happens more times than not. If only to insure that you've considered every possible angle before making that all-too-common and expensive mistake, doesn't it make sense to invest an extra week and a few bucks—if only to be a little more assured that your composition is airtight and in shape to compete in the great, uphill marathon to Hit Mountain?
Don't get me wrong. I am not claiming that anyone is always right about which songs will succeed in the marketplace and which songs don't have a prayer. I'm actually not interested in making that particular judgment. (In that regard, the only valid calculation is whether any given song is likely to get a lot of pitches; or, for whatever specific reason or reasons, what its appeal might be to potential artists.) I'm far more interested in hearing what the writer's goal is with a song and helping him or her achieve it. And, no writer should blindly accept every fragment of feedback he or she receives, professional or off-the-cuff (that would leave us all chasing our tails in search of some vapid, meaningless, homogenized, committee-composed piece of pap). Every writer should hold to his or her own vision and keep listening to that unique, personal Muse. But, in my opinion, every writer could also benefit by swallowing some pride, and accepting and applying the kind of caring, constructive feedback that can help give a song a better chance at success—both creatively and commercially.
Should you be seeking a song craft coach, what you should be looking for is someone who you can trust to be honest; someone who is sensitive and diplomatic, yet willing to give your songs the tough love they need to blossom and flourish—that includes selecting the most resilient seeds, fertilizing, watering, and pruning. It's not absolutely necessary that this person be experienced as a songwriter. But, it sure helps if he or she speaks a language that communicates clearly where your song is succeeding, where it may be falling short, and what you might try to improve it.
Even Tiger Woods has a coach for his swing (...if only he'd employed somebody to mentor him in his love life!).
Wishing everyone success, good health and fulfillment in 2010.
Rand Bishop
Implied by these protests are the following questions: How dare you suggest that gifted and intuitive tunesmiths should adhere to somebody else's rules, follow any formula, or study the traditions of pop song craft? Geniuses should not be subjected to the scrutiny of so-called experts, they claim. After all, who is to say what is a viable composition and what is not?
Admittedly, these are excellent thoughts and worthy of discussion. However, I don't consider myself an expert on anything, just a guy—with 40 years of professional experience and more credits than even the snootiest noses would sneeze at—who just might have something to offer to those who desire to hone and refine their craft. Because, regardless of how lofty the level of expression or how much genius goes into creating it, writing a pop song is essentially a craft, not an art. Yes, some songwriters achieve art. But, the process is really all about conceiving an idea, identifying and selecting the best available components, and assembling them into a new, fresh, solidly constructed, finished product (very much like designing and building cabinetry is a craft that has the potential of rising to the level of art).
If a writer is truly gifted, coaching detractors portend, no one should offer a single opinion that might divert him from his destined creative path. Certainly, every writer has his or her own unique point of view—that's a Muse that should never be muted. However, I was struck by an article in the Sports section of The Tennessean about Titans quarterback, Vince Young. Few athletes were born with more natural talent and passion for the game. A born leader, Vince is tall, strong, coordinated, mobile, fleet of foot, and wants more than anything to win. Using those innate gifts, he nearly single-handedly took his college team to a national championship. Yet, in order to become successful at his position in the NFL, Young has accepted the fact that he needs coaching on various aspects of his game. He could've just said, "Sorry, I'm God's gift to football. I'm a winner. Don't mess with me." Yet, you see, that's precisely what too many songwriters do. They bring their native abilities to the table, along with the pronouncement, "Take 'em or leave 'em."
Shaquille O'Neil is an astounding specimen of strength, power, and coordination. But, just like nearly every dominant frontline player in the NBA, Shaq refined his footwork by working with big-man coach, Pete Newell. Why? Because getting that extra half step on an opponent under the basket makes all the difference—even at seven-one/330. In the same way, even for a writer with a special, God-given spark, a song craft coach might suggest a fresh rhyme scheme or a way to use imagery that opens up heretofore unseen creative vistas. Or, a well-expressed, objective, constructive, and professional perspective just might shed some light on how one song is slightly missing the mark, and how that same composition, with tweaking, could potentially hit the center of the bulls eye. Could that kind of input be something of great value to a writer—even a burgeoning genius? I contend so.
Gillian Welch is revered as a song crafter of exceptional inspiration. As organic as her body of work is, Gillian is also a Berklee grad and spent several years under the tutelage of one of the world's pre-eminent songwriting instructors, Pat Pattison. My old friend, Tom Snow, who has penned dozens of contemporary standards is also a Berklee alum. After studying classical piano for seven years, I attended composition courses at Oberlin. Even with that legit music-theory background, I probably could have accelerated my progress considerably, had I found a mentor to help me develop my pop/rock craftsmanship. Although in my 20s, I stumbled into composing some relatively decent songs and had a little bit of success, maybe I might have come closer to matching Tom Snow's output, had I been smart enough to find a mentor to help me sharpen my skills. I was 53 before I had my first #1 in the U.S. I wonder if most headstrong twenty-somethings have the stamina and commitment to wait 30 years for their ship to finally come in.
(For the last 8 years, my daughter, Emily, has been the executive assistant to the head curator of the world's preeminent contemporary art museum: MOCA. In that capacity, it has become evident to her that, in order to get a major museum installation or art gallery showing, the artist of today needs to have an MFA. So, at 32, Emily has left her secure MOCA position to pursue her higher education. Imagine what it would be like if songwriters had to procure a graduate degree to have their songs considered for major artists. So, chillax. At least the music-biz isn't as rigid and tough to crack as the world of fine art.)
Now, let's talk pragmatics. How many writers barrel on ahead out of pure enthusiasm, investing hundreds of dollars into demoing songs that, in the long run, are not as good or as solid as they could potentially be? From my experience, this happens more times than not. If only to insure that you've considered every possible angle before making that all-too-common and expensive mistake, doesn't it make sense to invest an extra week and a few bucks—if only to be a little more assured that your composition is airtight and in shape to compete in the great, uphill marathon to Hit Mountain?
Don't get me wrong. I am not claiming that anyone is always right about which songs will succeed in the marketplace and which songs don't have a prayer. I'm actually not interested in making that particular judgment. (In that regard, the only valid calculation is whether any given song is likely to get a lot of pitches; or, for whatever specific reason or reasons, what its appeal might be to potential artists.) I'm far more interested in hearing what the writer's goal is with a song and helping him or her achieve it. And, no writer should blindly accept every fragment of feedback he or she receives, professional or off-the-cuff (that would leave us all chasing our tails in search of some vapid, meaningless, homogenized, committee-composed piece of pap). Every writer should hold to his or her own vision and keep listening to that unique, personal Muse. But, in my opinion, every writer could also benefit by swallowing some pride, and accepting and applying the kind of caring, constructive feedback that can help give a song a better chance at success—both creatively and commercially.
Should you be seeking a song craft coach, what you should be looking for is someone who you can trust to be honest; someone who is sensitive and diplomatic, yet willing to give your songs the tough love they need to blossom and flourish—that includes selecting the most resilient seeds, fertilizing, watering, and pruning. It's not absolutely necessary that this person be experienced as a songwriter. But, it sure helps if he or she speaks a language that communicates clearly where your song is succeeding, where it may be falling short, and what you might try to improve it.
Even Tiger Woods has a coach for his swing (...if only he'd employed somebody to mentor him in his love life!).
Wishing everyone success, good health and fulfillment in 2010.
Rand Bishop
Tags: Gillian, O'Neil, Shaquille, Snow, Tiger, Tom, Vince, Welch, Woods, Young, More…
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Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Dan Eubanks on -
one more thing, sorry I'm so far behind this post, most of you have probably put this to bed by now, I don't come here very much, forgive my tardiness.
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Permalink Reply by Rand Bishop on -
Dan:
It sounds as though you've run into some self-appointed experts who have no right claiming to be song craft coaches. After all, anyone can call oneself a manager or a producer or a songwriting coach. I'm not a song "writing" coach. I teach craft. And, it's not about "getting a song to market" unless that is the goal of the writer. I don't pitch songs, nor do I take credit or ask for equity for what I hope is constructive feedback. My coaching is based on one criteria only: whether the writer is achieving his or her (or their) stated goals.
As I've mentioned, dancers, classical and jazz players, actors, all kinds of fine artists don't think twice about paying for classes and coaching. Songwriters, on the other hand, are notoriously skeptical about taking instruction, probably because they're pretty sure Bob Dylan (or Trent Resnor, or whomever) didn't go to school to learn his trade, so they shouldn't have to either. Quite the contrary, Bob Dylan sat at the feet of Woody Guthrie and Dave Van Ronk. I studied the writing of greats like Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil (who know a thing or two about "taking a song to market"), Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, as well as the amazing Nashville writers, the Bryants, Bobby Braddock, Gary Burr, Mike Reid, the list goes on.
Here's what everyone should steer clear of: any supposed professional who claims that your song is bona fide hit and he (or she) can get it cut tomorrow (for a monthly retainer of course). Out of the thousand or so song evaluations and coaching sessions I've done over the last 2 1/2 years, I can only recall one writer who was dissatisfied. On the other hand, I have a long list of testimonials from writers who have expressed appreciation, gratitude, and praise for my help in making their songs better. They all paid for their evaluations, many of them on a monthly, subscription basis. Coaching is obviously not for everyone. But, for those who accept the concept and benefit from the process, it seems to be working out just fine. And, Btw, I don't make much money doing this at all - if I'm lucky, enough to pay my cell phone bill. I don't do it out of greed, but out of a sense of obligation to share my four decades of experience and help creative people develop their craft.
Best,
R
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Permalink Reply by Dan Eubanks on
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Rand Bishop said:Dan:
It sounds as though you've run into some self-appointed experts who have no right claiming to be song craft coaches. After all, anyone can call oneself a manager or a producer or a songwriting coach. I'm not a song "writing" coach. I teach craft. And, it's not about "getting a song to market" unless that is the goal of the writer. I don't pitch songs, nor do I take credit or ask for equity for what I hope is constructive feedback. My coaching is based on one criteria only: whether the writer is achieving his or her (or their) stated goals.
As I've mentioned, dancers, classical and jazz players, actors, all kinds of fine artists don't think twice about paying for classes and coaching. Songwriters, on the other hand, are notoriously skeptical about taking instruction, probably because they're pretty sure Bob Dylan (or Trent Resnor, or whomever) didn't go to school to learn his trade, so they shouldn't have to either. Quite the contrary, Bob Dylan sat at the feet of Woody Guthrie and Dave Van Ronk. I studied the writing of greats like Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil (who know a thing or two about "taking a song to market"), Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, as well as the amazing Nashville writers, the Bryants, Bobby Braddock, Gary Burr, Mike Reid, the list goes on.
Here's what everyone should steer clear of: any supposed professional who claims that your song is bona fide hit and he (or she) can get it cut tomorrow (for a monthly retainer of course). Out of the thousand or so song evaluations and coaching sessions I've done over the last 2 1/2 years, I can only recall one writer who was dissatisfied. On the other hand, I have a long list of testimonials from writers who have expressed appreciation, gratitude, and praise for my help in making their songs better. They all paid for their evaluations, many of them on a monthly, subscription basis. Coaching is obviously not for everyone. But, for those who accept the concept and benefit from the process, it seems to be working out just fine. And, Btw, I don't make much money doing this at all - if I'm lucky, enough to pay my cell phone bill. I don't do it out of greed, but out of a sense of obligation to share my four decades of experience and help creative people develop their craft.
Best,
R
Rand, Thanks for replying and addressing my concerns, had I run into someone like you first I would probably have a different opinion. Believe me, I do not question the idea that someone benefits from the experience of others, I received an education based on that and do not doubt that you personally have helped many people, so I hope you don't take my post as an attack, I was just relaying an opinion based on my own experiences, and the point being that not everyone who does not subscribe to coaching has an elevated sense of their own skill, or that they are above help, and not everyone can afford to take on a professional. Obviously, if entered into in the right spirit, it has proven to be a successful endeavor for you and the people you have worked with. Thanks again for the post and for the reply!
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Permalink Reply by Rand Bishop on
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It's odd that discussions like this one (here or elsewhere) somehow seem to have a life of their own. I always appreciate being read and/or discussed, even if it takes months (or years). That's why one takes the time to expound - I guess.
And, in the long run (that's what we're in for, regardless), I'd love to see every creative soul achieve his or her heart's desire. So, if I can be of service in that regard, that's what I'm all about.
R
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Permalink Reply by Dan Eubanks on
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Thanks for your thoughtful response, I'm glad to know there are people like you out there working for the interests of aspiring writers.
Rand Bishop said:It's odd that discussions like this one (here or elsewhere) somehow seem to have a life of their own. I always appreciate being read and/or discussed, even if it takes months (or years). That's why one takes the time to expound - I guess.
And, in the long run (that's what we're in for, regardless), I'd love to see every creative soul achieve his or her heart's desire. So, if I can be of service in that regard, that's what I'm all about.
R
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Permalink Reply by Holly Stewart on -
Can't wait for my session!
All The Best Holly
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Permalink Reply by Bob Olhsson on -
There's a whole lot of magical thinking that has become common among aspiring songwriters and artists. Most only know the stories that have been circulated by publicists to inspire press coverage while having little knowledge of the actual back-story of people's careers.
I began my career in 1965 at Motown in Detroit. The back-story of Motown was that it was really a management company and music publisher that had its own record label. Most of our writers had extensive performing experience and a real sense of what connected with people their age and what didn't. By modern standards, Berry Gordy, the company's owner and Billie Jean Brown, our head of quality control were involved in each song every bit as as much as a co-writer would be in today's music business. Our writers who became producers had also been produced themselves as artists or worked under top producers as recording engineers. Virtually nobody was self-taught. We were all standing on the shoulders of incredible mentors.
Since moving to Nashville ten years ago I've learned that this same level of supervision and input to songwriters was very much the case here too during the 1950s and '60s. Co-writing and coaching have just taken the place of what used to be called the professional manager at a music publisher. I also learned that just like at Motown the most successful writers have a great deal of stage experience and in many cases even a major label contract as an artist under their belt. Like our Motown writers they are also remarkably prolific.
There are huge opportunities to be found here for those who aren't resistant to input from others. In the end, music is really collaboration with the listener.
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Permalink Reply by MArc-Alan Barnette on
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Bob,
Very impressive about you and Motown. I am reading a book right now called "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" abou the Temptations. I am an enormous Motown fan,have been to the museum three times and sang with Eddie Kendricks once (he and I were both from Birmingham.) I also used Funk Brother Bob Babbit on one of my songs, "Less is More" the video of which is on my web site.
The songwriting and artist development now is very much that formula that worked so well in Detroit in the 50's. And the environment is very much the same. A lot of like minded people out there supporting each other and dveloping. A lot of competition yet. a lot of support.
Glad to know you.
MAB
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Permalink Reply by Robert Smeets on -
Eddie Kendricks and Bob Babbit- GREAT! There was a bunch of great music coming out of Detroit at the time, including a bunch of other bands seldom heard of like The New Establishment (listen to "Slums of the City!"). Not to mention the soul and funk music out of Chicago and yes, Ohio (Dayton, Columbus, Cleveland, Akron, Cincinatti). I think that it's very important for songwriters to have performance experience- it's what you do whether you think you're and artist or not (and if you make original music, you ARE an artist IMO). I have a question though- as a songwriter, are records enough to learn from? I've collected records for years and played in a lot of bands and found a lot of great music from playing in those bands and digging through the record bins. As a result though, I hardly ever listen to the radio (only occasionally just to see what's happeing). Just curious about your opinions on this...
Thanks!
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Permalink Reply by Rand Bishop on
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You know, till this moment, I never thought that experience as a performer had much to do with a songwriter's success or lack thereof. It's kind of a two-bladed sword. So often, I'll hear writers say, "Well, everyone loves this song!" "Who is everyone?" I might ask. "Oh, you know, all the peeps down at Bubba's Tavern (or, worse yet, Aunt Sally and Cousin Fred)."
I don't think playing live is a true barometer of what a great song is. However, knowing that songs need to connect to the listener on a purely emotional level first is critical. So, what my friend Bob Ohlsson is saying regarding the number of successful songwriters who had at one time or another pursued a performing career, is certainly a very, very valid observation. Just look at the majority of writers here in Nashville who have run the gauntlet of being artists: Mike Reid, Marcus Hummon, Matraca Berg, Darryl Scott, Rivers Rutherford, Jeffrey Steele, Jim Collins, Sonny LeMaire, Kristofferson, Willie, (should I keep namin' names?) et al... All these folks have had aspirations and real-time experience as artists. But there are also a number of hugely successful writers who never realistically aspired to stardom -- all through the history of pop music. So, there is no tried and true resume that automatically adds up to success.
All in all, the most important factors are: (A) Craft, (B) Who knows you -- as opposed to who you know -- and (C) having the command of the studio environment enough to capture the real magic of your songs in demos. Everything else is serendipity. But, all we can do is keep doing it over and over again, until all the elements magically fall together.
I was 53 (?) when I had my first #1 in the US. Yes, I'd been a recording artists, and a producer, and an A&R exec, and a music publisher, etc. So, all of that not only informed the creative process, but also helped me to be enormously grateful for the miracle. I can only wish that anyone who puts one note, one word in front of the other, and keeps working on it, will have the experience of writing at least one hit. It's a feeling like no other!
Onward and Upward,
Rand
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Permalink Reply by Bret Teegarden on -
I know a lot of successful songwriters don't aspire to stardom as performers, but I can not name one that does not regularly perform...
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Permalink Reply by Rand Bishop on
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Liz Rose. So there. Even Diane Warren doesn't play live - as far as I know. Nor does Desmond Childs (of course, he started as a recording artist with his own band). Don Pfrimmer. Cynthia Weil. Bernie Taupin. Bruce Burch. Hey, playing out ain't mandatory - just a potentially important part of the recipe for the elixer.
RBret Teegarden said:
I know a lot of successful songwriters don't aspire to stardom as performers, but I can not name one that does not regularly perform...
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