Hi folks,
As I've read and watched musicians talk about how they write their music, I've been struck by how mysterious and personal the process is. I don't know if other writers are like me, by my writing process is usually lurching and chaotic. It's like riding a mechanical bull; you never know what direction you'll be flung in next, and it's all you can do to hold on. More times than I'd like to remember a sudden heave in an unexpected direction has sent me flying. Why do I get back on? Ask any cowboy, it's the thrill of hitching a ride on an untamed force. I haven't found anything like it!
To dispel some of the mystery I thought you might find it interesting to watch me as I actually write a song. I intent to show the entire ride - every lurch, and lunge. I'll be making some Youtube videos of my writing process soon so stay tuned...
Let's Think About This For A Second
Friday, November 11, 2011
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Music I Shouldn't Like
I know the music I should like and the music I shouldn't. I know I should like Mahler, and Liszt, and The Cowboy Junkies, and Lou Reed. This stuff is intelligent, erudite. I should be drinking a Manhattan, and wearing a hat (not a cap) when I listen to it. I know this. But then why do I like REO Speedwagon, and Glee, and old gospel music? Not cool at all. Sure I like some stuff that's "hip" and "out there" like Tom Waits and Nick Drake. I talk about these with pride. And try to hide the soft spot I have for Michael Jackson.
What I don't understand is how I can like such different forms of music. Such different philosophies, skill sets, principles. I'm sure Freud would have something to say about my childhood experiences and resulting predilections, but it probably boils down to "who knows" like most everything else. I should really embrace my tastes as a reflection of the complex and interesting "me" but I'm sure I won't. I'll most likely still prominently display my Nirvana and Górecki cds and continue hiding my David Foster albums somewhere my cool friends will never look...maybe in the pockets of my parachute pants.
What I don't understand is how I can like such different forms of music. Such different philosophies, skill sets, principles. I'm sure Freud would have something to say about my childhood experiences and resulting predilections, but it probably boils down to "who knows" like most everything else. I should really embrace my tastes as a reflection of the complex and interesting "me" but I'm sure I won't. I'll most likely still prominently display my Nirvana and Górecki cds and continue hiding my David Foster albums somewhere my cool friends will never look...maybe in the pockets of my parachute pants.
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