Song Help

I'm an only child, so it doesn't cross my mind much to ask for help from friends, but I just read this article about Jonathon Coulton and his ten bazillion web friends, and it made me think about those of you who hang out with me here. We're having a nice time, aren't we? Yes.

I'm working on a song right now called "Out of Town Grandma"--I've got some stuff I really like, but would love some more quirky routines that any of you have going in your families (don't worry, I've already covered she-buys-them-a-ton-of-candy). Anybody want to give me some really good tiny little strange details about the routines of life with an out of town grandma? I'm open. Hit me.

Let's write a song.

I'm still thinking about song writing

I've been posting lately about what makes a good kid song--really because I'm working on the songs for my next project, and I'm (honestly) trying to figure it out.

I've hit some how-to-make-em-interesting points so far (hand-clapping, guitar strum, back-up singers . . .)

But now I'm asking the BIG question: WHAT MAKES A GOOD LYRIC? Click on over to The Lovely Mrs. Davis Tell You What to Think to check out my guest blog about this. . .

Cool Things I Noticed in a Song #3

Some people, I hear, always dreamed of being back-up singers. The Supremes for Diana. The Pips for Gladys. You know, that sort of thing. I won't lie. I think I only ever dreamed of being Diana and Gladys--but there's a special spot for really good back up.

And that's today's amazing insight into writing really terific kids' music. (And remember, I think about this sort of thing because I want to figure out how to do it really, life-changingly well).

#1 Best Use of a Righteous Back Up Band








"John the Rabbit": Elizabeth Mitchell, YOU ARE MY FLOWER

I love this song for the regular-guy-ness of it. Maybe she should have been Elizabeth Mitchell & the Yes Ma'ams . . . well, I mean, for that song at least. And try to imagine the song where Elizabeth just says those words for herself. Right. TOTALLY not the same.

A well-placed back-up can make a good song really terrific.

I think I'm going to put an ad up on Craigslist so that I can have a righteous back up band for my next CD:

WANTED: Regular people to say context-appropriate words over and over in order to aid impact of children's song. Call 1-800-BEMYRIGHTEOUSBACKUPBAND

I'll let you know if anyboy calls.

Cool Things I Noticed in a Song #2

Part 2 in an infinite series about the minutae of song writing for kids. Click here for Part 1. Or, um, scroll down to the post before this one.

Okay, so today's totally insightful insight about songwriting is all about chord strum. And I'm not going to leave you hanging with a bunch of cluttering personal sharing before I just get right to it and tell you this:

#1 Best use of dramatic chord strum:

(This is so easy to pick. I didn't even, like, think about it--I just KNEW the answer. . . .)

"I Want a Dog": Lunch Money, SILLY REFLECTIONS



Okay, now to the cluttering person sharing.

I chose this song because of its ability to make me wish I were playing it. Don't you just want to set up the microphone stand you have lying around your house and belt that soulful truth-telling line:

"I want a [DRAMATIC, SOULFUL CHORD STRUM WITH A HOLD] Daaaaaaaahhhhhg.
I want a [DRAMATIC, SOULFUL CHORD STRUM WITH A HOLD] Daahhhhh-ah-ah-ah-ah-g . . .
I would name him Al- [DRAMATIC, SOULFUL CHORD STRUM WITH A HOLD WHILE SAYING THE NEXT WORD} Fraaydo."

Not kidding. I want to sing that song everytime I hear it. Love it.

Plus, I think there ought to be more songs that address the reality of the hamster. But more on the insight of the lyrics later . . .

Cool Things I Noticed in a Song

The (always) Lovely Mrs. Davis has posted a fabulously-specific and believable list of kids albums for parents who want to break into listenable kids music (and break out of the primary colored t-shirt thing). I've broken into and out of it all myself, but I'm still going to buy some of the albums she lists.

And she's inspired me. See, I've been listening to kids music in a strangely specific way myself these days. Since a good handful of my earliest songs can all be traced back to single melody that was the theme song for a show starring someone named Uncle Jed, I've been paying really close attention to how other artists add interest to their songs. Really cool lyrics, I get. That to me is the real fun of song writing. But how do you make your guitar and the rest of the stuff sitting around your house turn the song into something even better than just the lyrics could make it. (A real stretch for me as a poet by training.)

So, here's the first in my list of Cool Things I Noticed in A Song.

#1 Best use of non-irritating hand clapping:

"Oh Well": Scribblemonster, CHOCOLATE MILK



Click for a listen to see what I mean. There just aren't that many hand-clapping songs out there that actually make me want to clap. I always practically wreck my car when this song comes on.

Stay tuned for more scintillating insights on the minutiae of song-making.

Because I Prefer to Enter a Conversation Once Everyone's Left the Room

I'm conflict avoidant. I can't talk about it. Really, I am.

Everyone's been talking about Laurie Berkner. Okay, not everyone, but still--people I think are important are talking about her. (That was who *I* think; not, who I *think* . . .)

I haven't thrown my indie kid music hat into the ring yet because 1. (See opening line) and 2. I've been chewing on the whole thing. There's something in the conversation that I'm not sure we ever got to (maybe because it sort of heated up ever so slightly, and I might not be the only person who tends to ditch the kitchen when the stove's on high).

I think Mrs. Davis kicked off an interesting conversation about artistic legitimacy, actually.

Her bent--as this reader understands it--is not that Laurie Berkner is crummy (which seems to be how most reader's interpreted what Mrs. Davis said) but that her not-crummyness is shared by others, while her get-paid-to-do-that-all-the-time is not.

Here's a story. (As far as you know, it has to do with what we're talking about.) When I was in graduate school studying poetry, these published poets used to come to our workshops and read their work and then we'd have a Q & A and within the first three minutes somebody would ask, "How do you get published?" The published poet then inevitably launched into a sort of there-must-be-beer-in-the-air-I'm-so-relaxed kind of discussion about how it's not really *about* getting published, man.

And I always wanted to get up and yell BUT YOU'RE PUBLISHED.

I didn't, of course. I just set out to get published . . . like we all did. And it was really hard. And by the time the three years of that two-year program were over, I’d written scads more than I’d ever published. Was I a poet if I wasn’t published much? I really wanted to keep writing poetry.

Ten years later, I’m still writing poetry. I haven’t published much at all since those years in grad school. Here’s what I’ve done, though: I’ve decided that it’s okay for me to write poetry. And in my life I’m trying to point myself toward the sign that reads YOU GET TO SAY WHAT YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH TO DO and away from the sign that says IF YOU GET A CHECK, THEN THAT MUST MEAN YOU WERE GOOD ENOUGH TO DO IT AFTER ALL.

I give an absolute high five to Laurie Berkner for going for it in her wildly goofy kids music. But the cash she's made isn't what inspires me or makes me think she's great. It's the "chops" she showed for just recording her songs in the first place.

May we all have chops. May we all record our own goofy songs. May we all not wait for our bank accounts to tell us we're good enough. Amen.

What's the Big Deal about Dan Zanes?

I mean, the guy's face is everywhere--you can't read a word worth writing about decent kids music without seeing his name. What's the big whoop?

I'll tell you (according to me): it's because he's the man. Honestly, I can say that I wouldn't have ponied up and made my CD if I hadn't ever encountered his music. Okay, so we're still on "why he's a big deal to me"--and since this is my blog, we may stay here, but I have this feeling on the inside that I'm not the only semi-talented, semi-funded, indie-kid-music-making chick out there with the same story.

Before I made my CD, I didn't listen to a lot of kids music--I mean, we had three dollars less than "no money" for quite a while, and CD-buying was not on the list (it fell somewhere after groceries, as I remember). The only "kids" music we listened to was the stuff people bought for us--and mostly we listened to it once, and then we promptly gave it away to the Goodwill for somebody else to um, er, enjoy.

I started writing the songs we sang in my sons' parent participation group because I didn't know any other kids songs besides "Dinah Won't You Blow" and "The Wheels on the Bus"--and I was bored. I'd already written a fat stack of songs by the time I'd heard of Zanes.

I still remember hearing the song "Thrift Shop" for the first time: Sandra Bernhard pairs with him for this song--and I listened the first time because I LOVE to thrift shop and so do my boys (as if they had a choice), and I remember playing the song back a second or third time to "check" what I thought I'd heard: It seemed like MAYBE Sandra didn't hit every note just right. In fact, maybe she had sort of a medium voice.

I checked. It was true.

And that fantastic thing about it was that I LOVED THE SONG. I won't even say that I loved the song ANYWAY. I mean I LOVED THE SONG. Part of her gutsy-belt-it-out-just-as-it-is was what makes the song so deliciously terrific. And it was this green light for me to go for it with my own music.

The big deal about Zanes? He's told the world that making music oughta be about good times. I'd say that's worth a big whoop.