When More People Write Songs

When more people make cars, cars get better.

When more people try to cure a disease, it gets cured faster.

When more people trade stocks, its beneficial for all.

When more people innovate, we get iPhones.

When more people write songs…

It just hasn’t gotten exponentially better since more people started doing it. Seems like it was better when fewer creative minds were writing songs.  Why do we still worship at the feet of the 60’s and 70’s?

The influx of people trying to make great music has most definitely created more music, just not great.  So much mediocre music.  So much decent music.  So much ok music.  So much awful music.

Yes, I can be amazingly critical of music I hear, whether its a giant artist or someone making their first demo.

I have an opinion.  Just ask.

But underneath my harshly accurate and self righteous judgement is really a burning desire to not critique at all, but to forget about myself all together.  The desire to find another song that will TAKE ME THERE. 

And I think we all know where that place is.

The popularity of music has made making music popular.  But it hasn’t inherently made it better.

If you’re going to continue releasing music and pedaling it, make it better.  If you can’t do that, stop. 

I’m cheering for you either way.

When You're 30

When you’re 30, like I turned today, you’re officially old enough to look at other eras of your life and talk about yourself in the third person.  

I’m not a raging moron who did those self indulgent stupid things.  That guy who looked, acted, walked and talked like me did.  He’s the fool.  Not me.

Ahhhh, freedom. Kind of.

You get to dissasociate a little bit with the moments you’re not so proud of.  The moments your parents still haven’t been told about.  I think 40 seems like a good age to really air out that laundry…..maybe.

When you’re 30 there’s more truth to old cliches.

More appreciation for Brad Pitt not dying his gray hair.

More love for the friends who haven’t left.

More money for things you’re now aware are more meaningless than before.

More meaningless things that are actually really fun.

More stretching after sports.

More regret for not staying in piano lessons.

More time on the phone regarding things that are not enjoyable.

More taxes.

More desire for less taxes.

More awareness that the only way to get through this thing is with the help and interdependence of others.  If I could go it alone, I would have already chosen that at this point.  

When you’re 30 you ping pong from still being a fool to having flashes of actually being smart.  But at least the flashes happen at this point.

Is There A Power Outlet Around Here?

It’s a tip of the hat to the power of the human spirit when you witness the lengths someone will go in order to find a power outlet in a coffee shop.

I have been both the witness to this scenario and also the subject.

Someone strolls in with their grass fed cow leather man purse to get themselves a latte.  After waiting for the barista to come back to the register before putting their change in the tip jar, they find themselves a place to sit. 

And they’d like to find a place where they can be facing the general population, so their computer screen will be well hidden.

But when they find their ideal spot and finally flip open their laptop, they get fidgety. We all know the feeling. Battery is below 10%, and you were planning on reading some really cool blogs for the afternoon.  And maybe FaceTime with your mom in this public place…because everyone else can just deal with it.

The scramble is on.  You’re looking high. You’re looking low.  You’re bending and stretching abnormally.  WHERE IS AN OUTLET!!  There’s begging and bartering with other customers seated in what could be THE SPOT.  It’s a thing of beauty.

You start asking people and talking with STRANGERS you would have never considered interfacing with.  Is there a power outlet around here???

At this point it doesn’t matter where the seat is. It could be an exposed seat next to the cream and sugar stand. It could be next to someone who smells bad or next to a family who’s kids are sluuuuuurping their chocolate milk (don’t they know that coffee shops are unspokenly 18+ establishments).

Cool goes out the window. You’d even consider a cash offer to some one if the outlet was within arms reach.

It’s quite amazing what we’re willing to do for the things we desire.  When it clicks over, we stop at nothing.

The Next Song Is Called

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that phrase at a show. Lead singer’s everywhere employing it, in hopes that the audience will connect with the song more if they know the title.  

And if they know the title, they’ll google it when they get home and buy it 1000 times on iTunes.

However, most of the time the title never gets heard by the audience.  You see, there’s a mental list in everyone’s minds of things they’re used to hearing from stage.  Things like

“We’re the ____ and we’re from ____" 

"Thanks to the other bands on the bill”

“Be sure to tip the bar tenders”

And you can always clearly hear “this next song is called”, but understand that the title of your song is totally out of the norm, and people can’t fill in the gaps with context clues.

Most likely to begin with, partly because of the mediocre sound system provided by the venue, the listeners actually only heard “is ext sun is call”, but our brains fill in the rest.  

So when the name of the tune is “Rain For Puppy Dog Lovers”, everyone turns to their friend and asks what the singer just said.  All they heard was noise.  They’ve never heard those words strung together at a show before.

So if you’re saying a song title from stage, or anything else outside of what people are used to hearing at a show, speak clearly, speak a hair slower than usual.  Tell the drummer to pipe down as he’s playing that beat behind the talking.  Drop the mic a little lower so people can see your lips move too.

You’ll give yourself a better chance at connection.  

Recording Is Easy

Recording is easy now.  Not just easy to make a mediocre sounding recording, but easy to make a professional sounding one.

Most of you have no clue if the instruments played on your favorite albums were played by humans or were created by 1’s and 0’s.  And that’s fine, probably the way it should be.

But the real takeaway from all this technology is for the artists and songwriters: 

You have every sound imaginable at your fingertips.  The “its hard to get a good sound” is no longer a crutch.  Your real problem is you need better songs.

But writing another song isn’t as fun as adding that 5th synth part on the chorus that’s REALLY going to make your current song hit.  Writing is more risky than dialing up your favorite Moog patch.  Writing might not make you feel good.  Moog always does.

Just write a song we need to hear again.

Staying In

The roads iced over in Nashville last night and today.  Really pretty impressive.  This city inexcusably shuts down if there is an inkling of snow in the forecast, but this time it’s the real deal.

And I’m terrified of ice.  The only real car accident I’ve been was because of ice.

Several years back I was visiting my parents up in Minnesota and decided to borrow the family mini-van to go visit a friend.  After hanging for a while, I started the hour long drive home in the late afternoon.

County highway.  My lane is going my way, the other lane, the other way.  I’m cruising at 55mph, not speeding because I tend to be a rule follower, and the roads seem pretty clear.

And I was right, they were clear, I felt safe that I could see the black top all the way.

Ice is clear and invisible when you’re cruising in a mini van.

The tail of the van started swaying and in a couple seconds the van was doing a triple axle straight into the opposite side ditch.

Terrifying.  Random memories from my life started hitting me while in limbo.

The mini van and I landed in the ditch with the passenger side of the vehicle on the ground.  Before unlocking my seatbelt I felt my neck, back, legs, head, stomach, arms to make sure they were intact.  All good.

I pushed open the drivers side door, which was now the ceiling of the compartment in which I was standing, and climbed out the top.  

Some folks had stopped and pretty soon a police man came and we got it all figured out.  He was so thorough that he even wrote me a reckless driving ticket because I had landed in the opposite side ditch, therefore crossing the double yellow line on the highway.  Justice.

So I’m staying in today.  Send food.