The Process: Genesis

I get asked a lot about songwriting.  Where it comes from, what inspires, and how it all comes together. 

Easy question to ask on the surface.  Until you start unpacking it.  What’s a ‘song’?  If it’s just words and chords, then you’d think the component parts would be compelling on their own.  But there’s something about the combination that can make it quite a bit more than just poetry and a G-C-D strumming pattern.  People spend careers trying to understand this recipe, and opinions on the topic run all over the map.

I think we’re all trying to do the same thing, though… communicate the intangible.  Songwriters don’t want to tell you about a sunset. We want you to see the colors of the sky and feel the evening breeze on your face.  We don’t want to simply talk about our anger… we want your indignation to rise and your pulse pound with ours.

And that’s the thing that I find so cool about songwriting.  It’s open ended.  Now, if your goal is to write a pop country hit, there’s things you can, and should do, to hedge that bet (no longer than 3:30, get to business quickly, into the chorus by 45 seconds, write about things people can relate to, have a catchy, anthematic chorus, etc).  But really, it boils down to what you want to say and what you want to leave your listeners with. 

The down side of that is that inspiration often strikes when least expected, and from unusual places.  A visual image.  Something you hear on the bus.  A smell.  A sudden burst of emotion.  A memory.  An idea or a challenge.  Many’s the time I have awakened from sleep with a melody or a lyrical line teetering on the edge of perception.  I have learned to try to capture these fleeting moments.  Vic and I have both had the experience of stopping on the bike path and scribbling down ideas before they flit away like spooked mayflies.  (By the way, I have just given you the specific sources of inspiration for 4 of the songs on the upcoming compilation. True story…) 

No matter the initial inspiration, a ‘song’ will usually end up having three foundations.  A melody, a chord structure, and lyrics.  These foundations help make a song more memorable.  You might also use the term ‘hooky’.  Certainly you don’t *NEED* all these.  Black metal songs don’t follow this rule, with constantly changing chord progressions, dissonant melodies, and unintelligible lyrics.  Black metal will also never be as popular as pop music because of it.  …Okay, there’s also that whole misanthropic Satan thing that black metal embraces.  But you get the idea. 

If I am lucky, all of these parts will come together at once.  Supercollide was such a song; from the get-go I knew what chords to play and where the lyrics and melody would fit. That doesn’t usually happen, though.  More often than not it comes in bits and pieces.  I’ll have a cool riff, or lyric sets at varying levels of completion, or sometimes just a new keyboard patch that sounds like it could go somewhere.  Rockethead came from experiments with bass guitar tone.   More on THAT later. 

So.   When inspiration is often fickle or incomplete, what do you do?  Hard and fast rule: you don’t take it personally.  It’s par for the course; good songs rarely fall out of the metaphorical sky on golden tablets.  You take a breath, pour a drink, and roll up your sleeves, and Develop the song.  It’s a very rewarding (if often frustrating) process.

We’ll get into that next entry.

-anoN

“You Guys Sound Like Two Bands…”

This is a comment I have heard a lot about Shai Azul.  To which I enthusiastically reply.

“Yes.  Yes we do.”

Truth of the matter is that we probably sound like about 3-4 bands, depending on which song you listen to.  And it’s intentional.  In spite of the opinion I know that the local and national music industry holds on the topic.

I have no problem with a band having their ‘sound’.  It’s what makes you distinct amongst all the other bands out there.  It’s a good thing to have something that defines you as you, whether it’s your lead singer, or your beats, or your guitar riffs, or your attitude, or what have you.

The hazard there, though, is that your ‘sound’ turns into your rut. 

And I have been there.  I have been there when I find myself starting off a song and having to really focus on which tune it is, because it sounds suspiciously similar to about half a dozen other tunes the band has written.  I have found myself going “How many songs do we have at 100bpm??”  I have found myself struggling to make a song sound fresh when, ultimately, the band has used the same ingredients 20 times before.    

And all too often, in this season, I even find myself listening to a band I like.  And turning off the CD halfway through.   Because I have heard it all by the 6^th song.  I know what’s coming. That’s kind of disappointing. 

With Shai Azul, I want to have a ‘sound’ that’s defined our personalities and our passions.  And you know… that’s a really big category.  But it wasn’t so long ago that having a varied sonic experience on a record (remember those big waxy things?) was par for the course; even a good thing.  It was okay for the band to try different genres and styles, because it was still ‘the band’ doing it.  I want to be soft and loud and intense and retrospective and in your face and happy and angry and everything in between.  I’m not just one emotion; neither are you.  We are legion. 

I would rather take a chance and risk having you not like the tune as opposed to having your response be one of boredom and apathy.  I would rather that you screw up your face and go “Bleah” than have you listen to a whole CD and go “Enh.  Been there.  Done that.” 

The core of Shai Azul is heavy, melodic music.  We will stay close to that, because it’s what we like.  We won’t do a tune that sounds like a country and western song. 

…or maybe we will.  Hard to see it, but you never know.  But hey.  I honestly don’t expect you to like every little thing that we do.  I mean, my OWN opinion about the songs I write fluctuates on a daily basis.  I can’t expect any less of you.        

-anoN

On Being Creative…

My Other will occasionally look at me from across the table or in a quiet moment and ask me, “What’s it like to be creative?”

I don’t think I have ever answered the question to her satisfaction.

I mean, how do you quantify that?  My Other is a measurable genius. I suppose it would be kind of like asking her “What’s it like to be smart?”  It’s not like she has a point of reference; she just is.  She can’t separate herself from her synapses and mental processes anymore than she can separate her vena cava from the rest of her circulatory system.  

But while not all of us can be intellectual powerhouses… I believe ALL of us can be creative.  And are creative. 

I think we in the artistic community are often a little too protective of our turf.  We can make strange statements like “Everything the artist spits out is art”.  We can be purposefully oblique and toss our heads in disgust when people don’t ‘get it’.  We can be offensive, yet surprised when people take offense.    We have a bad tendency as a community to define creativity along our own lines, often to the exclusion of others who may not see the universe as we do. 

But every time we see patterns and want to recreate them… we are being creative. 

Every time we appreciate a piece of music... we are being creative. 

Every time we appreciate a sunset, because somehow this one is DIFFERENT from the one hundred sunsets preceding it…we are being creative. 

Every time a sports fan makes connections between hard statistics for their favorite pitcher… we are being creative. 

Every time we cook a meal, with all the many possibilities and ingredients… we are being creative.  

Every time we resolve a conflict… we are being creative. 

Creativity is not limited to the physical and sonic arts.  Creativity is an expression of who we ARE.  Creativity sees the bits and pieces, picks them up, and strings them together into a necklace.  It sees things as more than the sum of the parts.  Not because it HAS to… but because it WANTS to.  Whether it’s music, or sports, or food, or painting, or writing, or geophysics, or computers, or middle management.

Embrace your own creativity.  It’s already there. 

-anoN

So, where are we at?

I have been looking forward to this spring and summer for some time.  While I enjoy all the other projects I am involved with, Shai Azul is...  I suppose one could call it the closest reflection to where I am at.  All my other projects are quite specific in their demands, musical and otherwise.  Shai Azul gives me (and my bandmates) quite a bit more latitude in creativity and direction.

In the past few weeks, I have been reviewing 10 scratch tracks with several Shai Azul bandmates and associates. Think of a scratch track as a diagram of the overall song.   It has lyrics, a basic melody, and most (if not all) of the planned instrumentation.  It's more than just a sketch; it's a pretty complete outline.  Verses, choruses, intros, outros, etc.  Even though I write the bulk of the material, I give the singers the final say over melody, harmony, and how something is constructed.  After all, they have to sell it, and if they don't have room to breathe, then that's a problem. 

With the Mirror Darkly compilation, I did most of this on my own.  With this upcoming compilation, I've brought in more people.  Vic, our art director, has co-written three of the songs.  I like what he brings.  I'm far more cerebral and reflective; he's a lot more in your face and sensual.  I have been talking a lot with Carl, a drummer/bandleader friend as well.  He has great ideas regarding rhythm, dynamics, and how to make my drum loops sound more like an organic component.  There's also about half a dozen people outside the band that get updates on the songs regularly.  Their job is to be brutally honest and opinionated about what they hear.  And they are. 

Oily and I are getting together next week to finalize the structures for the songs he leads on, and Tanya is even coming in a few weeks to hash her stuff out. 

If this sounds like an extended process, it isn't, really.  I could dictate down to the note and interval what to do and everyone could pull it off.  But that's not as satisfying as the collective creative process.  I would rather wait a few weeks for everyone to feel good about their contribution than create a song that people are ambivalent about.  The tunes are always better for it. 

After that... it's mostly on me.  The singers will hone their melodies and harmonies, yes.  But the instruments are on my plate.  Drum programming, guitars, bass, keyboards, and any loops or sequences.  The scratch tracks are physically designed in such a way that I can record the 'real' tracks as virtual tracks on top of what's already been recorded, so that saves a lot of time.  Still, it will probably take about 6 weeks to finish all the instrumental tracks at my home studio.

At that point, I will bring all the recorded tracks into a Pro Tools studio (Birdhouse, Seattle, WA), and after a (very critical) confirmatory listening session, we'll start having Oily, Tanya, and Kelly cut vocal tracks.  Probably late June or early July; all depends on how quickly I get done. 

More on that process as it progresses.

-anoN

...and then there was a bit of silence...

anoN here. Wasn't expecting there to be as much space between the blog entries as there was.  I've been on the road for the past 2 and a half months with one of my other projects and it ended up taking all the available bandwidth I had.

it's certainly one thing to play music; it's quite another to actually make a living at it.  And that sometimes means doing what you need to do.  It was a lot of fun and I enjoy touring with the theatre group.  I am happy to be home for a while now, too.

We're presently in preproduction for the CD.  That is, by the way, that ambiguous time period between when the songs get written and when they get recorded.  We have 10 songs so far.  In the next few weeks, Oily, Vic, Tanya, Anthony and I will give the scratch tracks a critical listen and adjust anything that needs adjusting.  After that, it's all on me for the next few months to record the instruments.

It's been a long winter.  I can't wait to get started.

anoN