Got fast fingers?

…and an insatiable urge to razzle dazzle?

Well here’s an idea for the New Year: be selective and think variety.

When you listen to others perform music, how long do you stay interested and engaged when you’re presented with a wall of sound?

There have been many times when I’ve been initially impressed with someone’s dexterity and nimbleness only to quickly become bored. How does that happen?

Well, my theory is this: music needs variety to be interesting.

Similar to a bad painting that overwhelms with colors too bold or indiscriminately placed, music can be made bad with too many notes played too often.

The ear craves the precious spaces between notes as much as the notes themselves.

Too much can be, well, too much.

More isn’t always better.

In songwriting, musical improvisation, painting, cooking, and life itself,
just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

What do you think?

‘Tis the season to give thanks for all that has led to the present moment, express hope for the future and extend the best to one and all.

As I wish you a Merry Christmas and joyful holidays, I also thank you for…

…sharing the gift of music, as a songwriter, listener,
supporter or enthusiast

…pausing for a few moments here as a new or returning visitor

…bringing a bit of yourself to that which you express, experience, observe and care about

…believing, if not in Santa, than certainly in the Muse

…being part of the tapestry that weaves together the paths, passions and pursuits of so many through the mysteries and
blessing of music

May the New Year bring you abundant creative inspiration, satisfaction and peace in your heart, and more original music… always more music.

-Rick

Amy Wigton is a singer/songwriter with a “voice as big as all outdoors.” She plays a solid rhythm guitar heavily laced with tasty picking as her voice soars from a beefy wail to a soft whisper. Audiences are moved by the dynamic roller-coaster ride of emotions that her songs convey.

Rick: As a performer, you have been described as “a powerhouse of energy and intensity with the soul of a rocker and the heart of a folk troubadour.” How has your style as a performer influenced your style as a songwriter?

Amy: Most of the time the songs begin with a life of their own and then, as it starts to gel, I begin to stylize the vocals and guitar embellishments that will allow me to put the song across.  There was one song I wrote entitled Carry Me Away that I wrote to incorporate a cool vocal leap from chest to head voice that I heard one of my favorite vocalists, Martin Sexton, do on a song of his that I love.  Sometimes I hear things that I really like and I sprinkle that into my songs and that comes from all kinds of music I listen to from funk to folk to the music I listen to in yoga class.

Rick: Over the years, you’ve shared the stage with the likes of Jefferson Starship, Pablo Cruise, Jesse Colin Young, Roger McGuinn and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott. What have you observed about how such top-level performers engage with and present original songs?

Amy: They just do what they do and are very solid.  I notice how they also change things up a bit so that they keep the songs fresh.  Improvising on a song probably keeps the sanity in check.   As I get older I keep in mind that I’m not going to write a song that reaches outside of my vocal comfort zone.  I used to like to push my vocals to the tip of my range.  I have songs that I don’t do as much anymore, because they sort of, well, hurt.  I’ve found that writing in a vocal key that is comfortable makes much more sense and since I plan on singing for a long time I want to be able to comfortably do them, so I keep that in mind.

Rick: In addition to writing “adult” music, you are also a writer of original “children’s” music. What’s the difference, and how do you approach the two genres?

Amy: Well, the furniture you put in the song is certainly different. For example, I don’t have galloping horses in my adult songs or sexy men in the kids songs. It’s kind of a no-brainer.  One of the most important things about children’s music is to engage the child in the song and make it participatory.  So when I write for children I keep in mind how they can participate with gesture, movement or echo to the song.  I also use a lot of props and visuals with kids.  My “thang” is the finger puppet song skits I’ve created. They seem to be a real hit.  I’ve been told by friends that I should incorporate my puppets into my adult music, but I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.

Sometimes after performing for kids it feels a little disorienting to do an adult show where the audience just sits there calmly tapping their fingers and toes while sipping beer.  I have visions (or delusions) of doing something more participatory with adult audiences.  At a recent show I spontaneously launched into the Hand Jive and coaxed the audience to participate, it went over quite well.  I enjoy the enthusiastic giggles of glee and the energetic bouncing that happens with children.  On the flipside sometimes it’s nice not to have the whole room going out of control (laugh).  Doing both styles of music works well for me and gives me a good balance.  I can write some pretty deep and edgy songs and I need the adult arena for those.  I also have found that kids music is a great theatrical outlet and gives me the opportunity to be a goofy goober, which is pretty natural for me.

Rick: Your experience as a performer has ranged from well-known music festivals to nightclubs, cafes, corporate conventions, weddings and street performances in places like Venice and Florence. What is your favorite type of venue for presenting your original songs?

Amy: Elevators, they’re the best. Hmm, lately I’ve been feeling like the venues are far and few between for original music, but I’ve been in mom mode and a bit out of touch with the night-time scene.  I like places where my audience is comfortable, well attended to and where you can feel the love in the air.  Early hours preferred and decent food and spirits a must.  How’s that for being picky?

I’ve been brainstorming for a while on the desired venues.  I like intimate settings and it really means a lot to me to have people engaged in what I’m doing, because otherwise, what’s the point?  I enjoy being the opener for other artists, its good exposure and it’s wonderful to be able to play some songs then sit back and listen to the headliner act.  I’ve had the good graces of opening for some awesome musicians and it’s always a treat. My sentiment is if there’s love in the room, wine on the table and people who are there to listen, I’m good.

I recently had an amazing show with Bread & Roses that took place at the Marin Woman’s Services center in Greenbrae.  For those unfamiliar, Bread & Roses is a volunteer organization that brings music and entertainment to hospitals, treatments centers and other institutions.  The room was filled with women who truly needed some healing.  We sang a lot of wonderful songs together that night and I felt like I was providing some comic and sentimental relief.  Pain is a sacred place and I felt like these women let me climb in there with them.  What I didn’t know at the time was that a lot of them were experiencing the shock of losing a friend and housemate to an overdose.  I sang “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac and I will never forget the power of that moment as these woman sang with me with embraces and tears.  That evening meant a lot to me.  We all hurt inside and the power of being together and singing through tears is probably one of the most healing things I can think of.

Rick: What’s the most valuable thing you’ve learned so far about songwriting that might be helpful to others following a songwriting path of their own?

Amy: Follow your muse.  Do not self-sabotage or compare too much.  Try to stay with the original flow and keep  going while the muse is talking to you because just as it comes, it goes away.  Try to be in the moment and feeling of the song so that you can capture it, perhaps as a just a stream of consciousness because that’s the pure emotion that’s channeling through you.

I keep my hand-held tape recorder and my journal/notebook with me at all times.  You never know when an idea will hit you.  I can’t seem to update from the cassette tape format for the initial writing phase or to capture ideas.  I need something there quick so I’m hopelessly old school in that way.  I’m a little bummed my newer car doesn’t have a cassette player in it and my techie husband thinks I’m crazy.  I’ve got so many cassette tapes full of song ideas, it overwhelms me sometimes.  I only refer to them when I need to.

After the collection-of-ideas stage I start crafting the song.  All songs don’t happen this way for me but the ones that are deeper and convey a more complex idea often do.  I suggest not trying to fit a song into a neat little box, just let it flow, gather it together, see what you’ve got and then work with it.  What also can happen is that one song becomes a stepping stone to another completely different song and it’s good to be open to that.  It can be an amazing thing to see what you start with and where it ends up.

The creative process is such a wonderful adventure.  Writing a song that I’m happy with is one of most fulfilling feelings.  I love having a melody swimming around in my head where I get to try on different lyrics to see if they fit.  It’s like a musical puzzle where little sections of the picture start to appear.

When I complete a few new songs that’s when I start itching to perform.  It’s like I’ve got a brand new outfit that I want to show off.  Something I struggle with sometimes is giving the song permission to form when I may not be in a particular mood for it.  Lyrics or melodies with very raw emotion will come out of nowhere and demand that I pay attention even when I don’t want to.  But there it is and it’s packing a pretty powerful punch so if you’re going to get the good raw emotion it’s important to give yourself permission to go down the road that the song is leading you.

Recently I’ve had this desire to write a real hopeful, upbeat, anthemic song.  I kept writing down thoughts and ideas but the song wasn’t coming, just the desire for it.  The song that wanted to be written was about my father who recently passed away.  Emotionally that’s where I was at and so I tapped into it.  It’s a song about letting go of the expectations I had with him and what I felt was expected of me.  It’s basically a song about self liberation.  A lot of my songs help me process my emotions.  Songs bubble inside that need to come out and it’s creatively important to let them come.

In a nutshell, my advice would be to listen to what the muses whisper and then write down every word.

Stay tuned…

Is your every song extraordinary, every performance brilliant?

Long before the first well-meaning “other” helps you understand what you could have done better, there’s probably a voice in your own head that has already noticed many of the ways you need or want to improve.

For some of us the “inner critic” can be a helpful consultant, for there is almost always room for improvement. With the pursuits one takes most seriously, that inner voice actually becomes an essential contributor to growth and progress.

A discerning eye, a discriminating ear, an educated palate. The more you know about your craft, the more refined your distinctions become.

The ability to notice and correct flaws, to edit one’s work — to set one’s ego aside enough to be able to look at your work objectively — all are fundamental to continuous improvement.

Balance, however, is also important.

When you cook a really good meal, it is considered bad form to be the first to declare “Hey, this is really delicious!” Fair enough. No one enjoys a braggart, so we learn to keep those comments to ourselves.

But songwriting isn’t cooking. A meal comes and goes. Songs have a shelf life and want an enduring audience. Plus, there’s that external, “objective” score card by which we measure ourselves: has my song been picked up by Alison Krauss or Keith Urban? No? Then maybe it really isn’t all that great (or maybe they’ve just never had an opportunity to hear it).

If you take yourself to task nine times out of ten but do something really well on the tenth, do you pause, take a breath and let it in? Do you give equal time to savoring the good as well as attending to the “needs improvement?”

To be sure, there’s no shortage of folks who are perfectly content exactly as they are. Nothing wrong with that (as long as they don’t become too boorish, oblivious or otherwise insufferable).

But for those who take the craft of songwriting seriously enough to want to do it really well, the idea of balance is probably an important one. And given that there are way more songwriters than songs that make it to the hit parade, the ability to recognize those creations truly worthy of notice is a critical survival skill, even if it’s just to pause long enough to enjoy the sound of your own two hands clapping.

Don’t be too quick to accept whatever comes to mind just because you thought of it. Good or bad, human beings aren’t renowned for our ability to be objective with ourselves. But also don’t be so hard on yourself that you miss the joy when you reach for, and hit, the sweet spot.

Stay tuned…

Chris Stuart is a songwriter, bandleader, journalist and first-prize winner of the prestigious Chris Austin songwriting contest in bluegrass and gospel at Merlefest.

Here’s a recent picture of Chris at the backdoor of the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville (he wrote the script for this year’s IBMA Awards Show and got to hang out at the famous venue).

“It was pretty cool when Dale Ann Bradley sang my song Julia Belle on stage that night,” said Chris. “For three minutes my song reverberated around the Ryman and I thought, well, that’s as good as it gets!”

Rick: Chris, congratulations on being named “Print Media Person of the Year” for 2008 by the International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA) for your work as a freelance writer for Bluegrass Unlimited magazine. Awesome! How did you become interested in this type of writing and what’s your favorite part about writing for music magazines?

Chris: I started writing for Bluegrass Now back in the mid-90s with a songwriters series where I interviewed songwriters. From there, I did a few pieces for Bluegrass Unlimited, but didn’t really start writing a lot for them until about three years ago. It’s still more of a fanzine approach than hard journalism, but we’re trying to promote the music and find out what’s unique about each artist. I enjoy interviewing the artists and piecing it all together. There’s a challenge in making each article different.

Rick: You’re one of my favorite songwriters, and it’s great to see artists like Claire Lynch, Larry Cordle, Dan Paisley, Suzanne Thomas, Dale Ann Bradley and Sally Jones recording your original songs. When you’re writing new material, when do you start thinking about who you would like to hear performing the song?

Chris: I’ve only done that twice. Oddly enough, the first song I wrote, Paul and Peter Walked, I wrote with the voice of Alan O’Bryant in mind. When Claire Lynch recorded it, Alan sang harmony with her and I heard them sing it together at the IBMA awards show, so it kind of came true. The only other time I’ve had a voice in mind when I wrote a song was one on our latest album, a song called “I Remember Memphis” which I heard the voice of Jimmy Martin singing it while I wrote it. Of course, no expectations that Jimmy’s going to record it since he’s moved on to greener pastures. I just wanted to try writing a “Jimmy Martin” type song. I sent Doyle Lawson a gospel song recently that I heard his voice on and he’s recorded it for his next album, so sometimes you can imagine certain people doing certain songs after the fact and it works out, but that’s rare.

Rick: As a thoughtful and engaged songwriting instructor (I know because I’ve listened to you firsthand), what are some of the key thoughts you want folks to remember at the end of a songwriting workshop?

Chris: I think most of the questions you get at songwriting workshops boil down to the essential question of “How do I get started?” Even the question of “Which comes first, words or lyrics?” is just asking how it all starts. I try to tell people that if they have an idea already, then they need to sit down and work on it. There’s no getting around it. You have to work through a song. If you’re looking for an idea, I try to get people to imagine themselves in a situation, so I’ll make up a scenario I call the “Cellar Stairs Exercise” where I describe how they walk down a dark flight of stairs into a cellar and I describe various smells and feels and sounds and then I ask them to write the first line of a song. At least it gives people a starting point. I’ve also done exercises in workshops where I ask people to write stream-of-consciousness for three minutes and then read what they’ve written. It’s all part of getting started on writing a song, of moving into that subconscious where the songs exist and where you have to pull them kicking and screaming, sometimes, out of. . .

Rick: Where are you finding inspiration for your own songwriting these days?

Chris: I read a lot of history and I also listen to old songs and try to find ines that spark an idea or a new way of thinking of things. I also sometimes take the titles of novels and see if they might make a good song title. Mostly, I just try to listen to whatever’s going on around me… bits of dialogue, sounds, etc. I noticed earlier this month when Obama gave his victory speech that his voice modulated between two notes when he was talking about his daughters, Sasha and Malia. I tried to figure out what interval that was and I’ll probably use it in a song sometime. When I wrote “Shenadoah Wind” (which Bobby Osborne just recorded for his new album in January 2009) I used the interval that’s in the old song “Sheandoah” and incorporated it into my song. I just always have all these little bits and scraps of things in my head that I carry around and that sometimes come out in songs.

Rick: The 2008 schedule for Chris Stuart & Backcountry has taken you to venues all over the US and Canada. What is your favorite type of venue for presenting your original music?

Chris: That’s a great question. Strangely enough, I like small venues like house concerts the best. Not too small, of course! But we’ve played a few large events and it just feels too big for me. I’m not that kind of entertainer. I like to tell stories between the songs and engage the audience (sometimes the band members do get tired of hearing the same jokes and stories), so a smaller crowd is better for me.

Rick: What’s the most valuable thing you’ve learned over the years about songwriting that might be helpful to others following the songwriter’s path?

Chris: I once heard Alan Munde say about banjos that, “It’s just a banjo.” I feel the same way about songs. They’re important and they can move people to tears and laughter and dance, but in the end, it’s just a song and you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much about them. Write a song and move on to the next one. Be critical of your writing, but not to the point of not finishing the song. Also, keep your publishing!

Stay tuned…

For those of you who have been following this blog for a while, you’ve no doubt noticed a theme in these posts: We are artists as well as a songwriters.

We’re people with a tendency to connect dots and notice parallels in different domains. Fine wine and good music. Intimate prose and well-crafted lyrics. Bistro cooking (fresh and minimally altered) and uncontrived composition (fresh and naturally flowing).

Shakespeare and Cirque du Soleil.

It’s cool to consider that musical scales typically have but eight intervals (and two of those are the same, just an octave apart). Every song ever written starts with the same rather limited palette of possibilities, yet the possibilities are expansive and endless.

The painter has three primary colors (plus white), yet infinite hues, values, potential. Every painting ever painted began with the three primaries and a limited number of optional pigments, yet the variety is spectacularly endless.

The English language has 26 letters (the Armenian language has 38). Since a bunch of those basic 26 are hard to use in Scrabble games, we could probably do just fine with fewer. Read any good books lately? If it was in English, well… you get the idea.

The human body has 206 bones. More than half of those are found in your hands and feet.

Pick a tune with your hands. Keep time with your feet.

Play on!

(and stay tuned)

If Van Morrison, Paul Simon and Jack Johnson wrote songs on the road with Jack Kerouac and Ram Dass in the back seat it would sound like… Forest Sun.

Forest is a Mill Valley-based songwriter and visual artist who has studied at the Facultad de Bellas Artes in Barcelona. His paintings and monoprints can be viewed online at forestsun.com along with his music and song lyrics.

Rick: So, Forest, what is your philosophy on songwriting?

Forest: Songs have a life of their own. i just let them come through.  First  comes listening.

Rick: In their review of your CD “For the Story,” Performing Songwriter said that you demonstrate “a well-rounded ability to capture simple, plainspoken emotions and frame them in a number of genres all well-played and deeply understood.” Do you intentionally strive for “simple and plainspoken” when writing a song?

Forest: Each song tells me how it would like to be. Sometimes a simple phrase can have multiple meanings and be received on different levels. It’s  up to the listener to find that for themselves. The songs invite them in and meets them where they are.

Rick: When you’re out performing original songs in front of live audiences, what’s the most important part about selling a new song to folks who are hearing it for the very first time?

Forest: Not to sell anything. Play the song for your own joy and to give it life.

Rick: As an artist as well as a songwriter, what parallels do you observe between these two forms of creative expression?

Forest: Creating in both mediums can be like throwing up… or having sex… or giving birth… a bit messy and intense but you always feel better afterwords.

Rick: What have you learned so far as a songwriter that might be helpful to others following a songwriting path of their own?

Forest: Trust yourself.  Don’t judge yourself or your creations, or listen to anyone who does. Just keep creating.  Does judging you in any way or buying other peoples points of view help you improve or create more?

Rick: Mmmm, I’m gonna have to go with “No” on that one.

Stay tuned…

www.forestsun.com
www.myspace.com/forestsun

Audrey Auld is a singer/songwriter with Australian roots and an “Americ-kinda” style. With seven albums and eleven years of international touring to her credit, she is a winner of the Chris Austin Song Contest (MerleFest 2006).

Audrey formed Reckless Records with Bill Chambers in 1998. Bill and Audrey have often been cited as an inspiration to singers, songwriters and musicians keen to discover the roots of Australian and American music, and to find their voice within it. They’ve also reaffirmed the independent path to many artists.

Rick: Growing up in Australia — and as a classically-trained violinist — how did you become interested in Americana/Roots music and begin writing original songs in that genre?

Audrey: I became interested in country music in my early 20s in Hobart. I heard a friend singing Patsy Cline-style songs with her band and loved it. My art school teacher gave me a wonderful cassette of songs from Dwight, John Prine, Bob Wills, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, etc. It was a great mix of Texas swing and good songwriters.

As I traveled and lived in the Outback, I would raid people’s record collections. There’s a lot of country music in the country so I gradually discovered Slim Dusty (Australian), the Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers, Loretta Lynn. I love the heart-on-the-sleeve aspect of the genre, the pathos and humor, the simplicit, the stories, and the way the instrumentation augments the emotional dynamics — particularly the steel guitar and fiddle.

Rick: You’ve described your songwriting as “music with the dirt left on” — what do you mean by that?

Audrey: Organic as opposed to processed. As close to the earth as possible.  Organic goods look imperfect but they taste better, are more nutritious and cause no harm.  With my music, I want the human print to remain.  In the studio, I prefer to record one good take and leave it alone, rather than compile six average takes created into one “perfect” take.  I like grit and truth in sound and subject matter.

Rick: As the winner of the Chris Austin Song Contest in 2006, what affect has this recognition had for you as a songwriter over the past two years?

Audrey: It was a wonderful experience to be so acknowledged, especially by such esteemed judges. It was an honor to perform at such a great festival, and to be accompanied by Rich Brotherton (producer/guitar/harmonies for Robert Earl Keen).  How it has impacted my career, I can’t specifically say, but it sure is cool to have that in my press kit!

Rick: With over a decade of international touring and seven albums to your credit, what have you observed about the craft of songwriting that might benefit other songwriters?

Audrey: The process of creation is a mysterious and profound experience. I have discovered the joy of not getting in the way when a song is coming through. There’s a Zen aspect to writing. It’s about being in the moment, quieting the mind, not judging what is coming through.  There’s nothing I love more than to be lost in the process, which is only realized afterward. It’s then I can craft, edit, re-arrange, etc.  My best songs are those I look at and can’t believe I wrote.  I don’t recall ‘thinking up’ the lines.

It’s confronting for me living in Nashville now as I’m surrounded by writers, many of whom ‘make up stuff’ in hopes of cashing in.  The state of commercial radio is a reflection of that motivation.

I am inspired by the poet-writers who are obviously following their muse and channelling that mystical-something we are blessed to receive.  I believe when a song comes to a writer through true unconscious inspiration it touches the listener in the same powerful way.

Rick: I happened to listen to the last few minutes of City Arts and Lectures on NPR over the weekend. Andre Dubus (a writer best known for his novel House of Sand and Fog) was saying something similar about his own work… that the bane of creativity is self consciousness.

Getting out of the way when the muse is coming through… true that.

Stay tuned…