Songwriters in Seattle

Author: David Guilbault

  • Surrendering My Music

    I have written a couple hundred songs over the years.  And it’s important to me that they find a way out into the world.  At my age, I know I won’t have a career as a performing songwriter, but I want the songs to have a life outside my computer.  It would be lovely if they were covered by established recording artists or bought for synchronization in TV and/or films.  I think that is probably unlikely.  But, it is not without possibility.

    I don’t have the money to go into a studio to pay musicians, arrangers, engineers and producers to record my songs the way I hear them.  I don’t have the money to then have them mixed and mastered.  And I don’t have the money to print hundreds of CD’s or vinyl records for distribution.

    Nevertheless, right now I have fourteen 6-song EP’s that can be found on all the major online music stores and streaming services, like Spotify, YouTube, Apple Music, Amazon Music, iTunes, Tidal and the like.  I have four more in the works.  You can audition my music on Bandcamp (https://davidguilbault.bandcamp.com/). 

    So, how did I get my music recorded, distributed and (somewhat) heard?  I surrendered the process to multi-talented musicians I know who are arrangers, producers, engineers and multi-instrumentalists, all wrapped up in one.  I have relied on the talents of folks like Chris Klimecky, Paul Beaudry, Colin J Nelson, Jeremy Serwer, Matthew Emerson Brown, Karl Benitez, Griffin James, Eric Padget, Jason Goessl, and now, JD Cotton.

    This is how it works.  I find six of my songs that I believe hold together in some lyrical theme.  Then I think of one of these folks who might have a particular ear for the essence of that music.  Maybe they would bring a country feel, or a pop sensitivity or a dark tenor to the music.  Living on a fixed income, I negotiate a flat fee for them to arrange, produce, record and mix the six songs.  In most cases, they play all the instruments.

    I give them scratch guitar and vocal tracks recorded to a click track.  I either do that at home on my computer or, preferably, I come to their project studio to lay down the scratch tracks.  Then I essentially wash my hands of the project.

    Because I am not paying them what they should rightly earn playing the multiple roles of musician, arranger, producer and engineer, I give up creative control of the final arrangements.  They are free to produce the songs any way they hear them.  I don’t meddle in the process.  And there is no deadline for them completing the project.  I have had some EP’s take up to two years to complete.

    When these masterful musicians have laid down all the instrumental tracks, I come back and do a final vocal on a good mic, trying my best to capture the feel of the music they have created with my singing.  Many times I am surprised by arrangements that I would not have expected or would not have created if I were doing the songs myself.  In only one case (with none of the folks mentioned above) have I been disappointed.

    I still have to pay to get the final mixes mastered, but there are now algorithms online that can do that for very little money.

    Like I said, the crux of these deals is that I surrender the music to the producer.  Since I am not paying them market rates, I am not going to waste their time asking for revisions.  What I get is my song matched with their musical talent.

    What that means is that each collaboration has a unique sound, reflecting the tastes and talents of the individual producers.  The downside of that is that I haven’t established my personal performance style across these recordings.  But, this process is about getting the songs recorded professionally and out onto the Internet, and not about developing and promoting a profile as a recording artist.

    I use DistroKid as my distributor.  You upload your music to them digitally and they get the albums in all the major stores.  Getting folks to find the songs, however, listen to the songs and buy the songs is another ball of wax altogether.  For the most part, my music is still unheard.  Which is another reason not to spend ten thousand dollars on a studio produced CD that few radio stations are going to play and few people are going to buy.

    So, I am grateful to the lovely and talented collaborators who have been generous and kind with their time and talent in taking on my cut-rate projects and producing them with such feeling and expertise.  For better or for worse, I have at least a third of my repertoire out there in the ether.  And, if my music should ever catch fire and actually make money, I have every intention of sharing the proceeds 50/50 with these wonderful musicians.

    I hope you find a way to get your music out into the world.  In the meantime, please be safe and well, and keep on writing and performing.  Music is indeed a labor of love.  Getting paid for that labor would be sweet.

  • Are You a Liar?

    NOTE FROM EDITOR: This article is an opinion piece written by our own board member, David Guilbault. It does not represent the opinions of our organization as a whole and is meant to inspire thought and discussion. A companion piece, a response, has been submitted by another board member, Todd Christoffel. It is our sincere hope that you will read both pieces and then respond via email to info@songwritersinseattle.com. Lucid responses may be published. 

     

    Lennon and McCartney are liars. They wrote, “I give you all my love.” Really? All your love? Can anyone give all their love? Don’t people love their kids? Or pizza? Or golf? Or macramé?

    The Temptations sang “You’re My Everything.” Really? Don’t some people cherish their motorcycles, or their wardrobes, or their accomplishments? If so, then the heartthrob of that song is not the writer’s everything.

    The Everly Brothers sang one of my favorite songs, written by the brilliant Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, called “Devoted to You.” Um, I don’t think so. Don’t most people spend an awful lot of their time devoted to their work? These songwriters are not telling the truth.

    Songwriters tell of giving their souls to their loved ones. Well, if there is such a thing as a soul, it can’t be given, or shared. So, nope. That’s a lie. Lyricists proclaim their affection for their darling one “till the end of time.” Yet, half of marriages end in divorce. Again, the songwriter is untruthful. Songs about the heart are often fantasies, and usually demonstrably false.

    Songs about heartbreak, on the other hand, are almost always painfully true. Maybe that’s why I am drawn to break-up songs and not romantic songs. I choose truth over fiction.

    The Bryant’s also wrote one of the most honest songs about love, called “Love Hurts.” It starts with these lines:

    Love hurts, love scars
    Love wounds, and mars
    Any heart, not tough
    Or strong, enough
    To take a lot of pain
    Take a lot of pain
    Love is like a cloud
    Holds a lot of rain
    Love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts

    This is the truth, laid bare. I invite you to listen to it sung by Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris from Gram’s “Return of the Grievous Angel” album. Their performance almost always brings me to tears. This is lyrical honesty.

    Certainly, as a colleague who reviewed this column before publication noted, songwriters, like all artists, are allowed poetic license. And the artistic expressions of The Beatles, The Temptations, and the Everly Brothers, like all musicians, are likely not meant to be taken literally. So, maybe it’s a bit harsh to label them as liars. On, the other hand, I can’t think of any Dylan songs with similar sentiments.

    So, what is truth in songwriting? What love songs strike you as heartfelt and true? How about your own love songs? Are they honest? I’d ‘love’ to hear what you think. Let’s talk about it.

    Read Todd Christoffel’s response…

  • The Honest Lyric

    There is no right or wrong way to write a song lyric. And there are no right or wrong lyrics. But, there is truth and falsehood. Is your song honest? Or are you just making rhymes?

    I was honored to be asked to write this column exploring the craft of lyric writing. I have no particular expertise or unique understanding of that magic process, but I have a deep belief that songs should be ‘about something’ and, that something is best delivered not through the melody, but through the lyric.

    I am drawn to songs that reveal truths I didn’t know. They make me see things anew. They open my mind while they entertain my ear. They are real.

    My own way of writing a song is pretty consistent. I noodle around with a chord progression and immediately start singing a melody over the chords. Most often, I have no idea where I get the first line. I just sing whatever pops into my head. Then I rhyme it. At this stage they are meaningless words, picked from the ether. But are they? Or is my subconscious becoming manifest, telling me it has something to say?

    Everyone probably knows the Paul McCartney story about writing “Yesterday.” He awoke with the melody fully formed in his head. He was sure he had heard it somewhere else and hummed it for his producer, George Martin, to see if he had unconsciously cribbed it. Having no lyrics, he first sang: “Scrambled eggs. Da, da, da, da, da, da. Scrambled eggs.”

    Singing nonsense words works. It helps you form structure and cadence. In doing that you’re choosing the number of syllables, the pauses, the flow of the melody. No matter at this point what the song is about. Don’t try and force the song one way or the other in its early iteration. Let the muses take you.

    For me, the melody does indeed come before the words. Once I have some melody in mind, but not fully realized, I begin writing the words. From that point on, they affect each other. The tone of the words begins changing the tenor of the music.

    The melody, as expected, will move the listener to feel different emotions, melancholy or joy, foreboding or jubilation, with minor or major progressions. Do they make you want to jump and shout, or sit and moan? But, it’s the words that tell the truthful story. Are the words in your song worth taking to heart? Do they live in the truth?

    I generally begin to know what my song is about around half-way through. I have an ‘ah-ha’ moment. “Oh, this song is about greed.” That’s when I take the creative steering wheel away from the muses and start driving the idea by myself. That’s when the words start to have meaning, purpose, power.

    “No, that line doesn’t fit the theme. That line isn’t clear. That’s pedestrian. What am I trying to say here?”

    I don’t want to criticize anyone’s art, but all songwriters, in my opinion, should be on constant alert against being trite, predictable, banal, obvious. Too many songs are way too obvious. As a listener, you know where they are going. You can predict the next rhyme, the next thought. They don’t tell you anything you don’t already know.

    So, this is my fundamental songwriting advice: Say something new, something different, something true. Say something honest.

    The most powerful songs, to me, have a moment of searing revelation, a single line that makes you stop in your tracks and say, “Wow!” A single honest declaration that can change your world view. Look for that moment in your song. Is it there? Try to make it there.

    I wrote a song about an illicit romantic affair. I told the story through the guilt of the adulterous lover. But, the true nature of the story didn’t reveal itself to me until the final line of the final verse.

    “Before this night is through
    I’ll wash away the scent of you
    To hide the stain of passion
    We’ll kiss goodbye
    While others wait at home alone and cry
    From love unfastened.”

    That line, out of nowhere, hit me like a lightning bolt. While all the previous words in the song set the literal atmosphere of the affair – the smell of cigarettes, intoxicating perfume, worn sheets, cold rooms, loosened morals – these last two words brought honest revelation about the reason for the affair. Love unfastened.

    The audience may not get that those two words are the heart of the song. But I know. They declare the breaking of a trust. They uncover the true feelings of the narrator. They reveal that believing that love is bonded forever is a lie. I didn’t literally say those things in my song. Those two words did it for me. The honesty is there, even if just implied. It is left to the listener to hear it.

    I didn’t start out to write that sentiment, that true love can be a lie. I started out writing a song about guilt. The real point of the song revealed itself to me because I am continually asking, what is this song about? And my mind answers. It’s not an earth-shattering revelation. Many others have had it. But it’s an honest lyric. And I may have said it in a slightly new way. Love unfastened. Those two words have layers of meaning to me.

    That moment of clarity is not always possible in your songwriting. But you know it when you write it. I know it when I can read my line and say, “That’s it. That’s the truth of this song. That’s what I was working to reveal. That’s what this is about. That’s what I want to say.”

    So, I posit that we should all try to say something real in our songs. And say it honestly.

    On the other hand, if your song gets people to move their feet, that’s pretty damned cool, too. As the teenagers in Philly used to say to Dick Clark on American Bandstand, “It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it. I give it a nine.”