SONGWRITING IS HARD
A personal story of one man's search for musical enlightenment at the Open Mic Night
by Doug Murphy
To practice is not enough. Growth as a musician requires us to understand what makes great music. Most of us have been listening our whole lives, studying the masters of our favorite genres, marveling at their inventiveness and copying their techniques. This is how we reach new heights – by standing on the shoulders of giants. But comparing the Great to the near-Great ignores the larger gap. For many of us, as students, the path from scales to stardom is composed of a thousand small steps. This is a path every great musician walks, but it all happens before they cut albums and fill stadiums. It happens out of our view, robbing us of the opportunity to observe and learn – unless we know where to look.
As a student at the Temple of the Sacred String, I searched for a way to learn what my musical heroes already knew. The Wizard guided me down a surprising path. “You learn,” he said, “by seeing what not to do.” With that he sent me to the beginning of performance, to see young musicians who had not yet polished their craft and old ones who never would. The ancient tradition of Open Mic Night revealed to me the secrets that no book, no lesson, seemed to make me understand.
STRUCTURE
In a stripped down environment of one acoustic guitar and one voice, you can't hide behind distortion, layered loops, or a high-energy drummer. Song composition really stands out. Two-chord songs are tough for an audience to sit through. A single strumming pattern for three minutes is far too long. Variety is essential.
The best songs have parts – chorus, verse, bridge, interlude. Sometimes they have key changes, or variation in the lyrics each time through the chorus. They never do the same thing more than twice in a row. The audience can pick out clear patterns in the song, but they can't quite guess what's coming next. That surprise is what makes music fun.
The worst songs are, without a doubt, the ones without a key. Always, always pick a key. It doesn't matter if you can play 600 notes a minute, you mix in finger-tapping and harmonics, and you have the coolest hair. A song without a key is awful to listen to.
Patterns with variety, not atonal complexity, are what makes a song stand out.
LYRICS
The audience is looking for something to connect with in every song. Especially in a more forgiving open-mic environment, this can be several things – a compelling story, a metaphor that they can grab onto, or even evocative word combinations that draw out events in a person's emotional history. Many of the best songs are universal – each audience member can convince themselves the song is about something in their own life.
As it turns out, however, there are an awful lot of people who don't have anything to say, and it can drag down a well-arranged song. The words of a song can't just fill space – they need to add something, because people's attention is naturally drawn to them. Reading lyrics aloud, without intonation, can be a good way to check them.
Lyrics are fraught with potential pitfalls that can easily be avoided. For instance, some metaphors have been explored far enough. Your girl is not like an angel, and your love is not like a shooting star. You can actually watch an audience collectively roll its eyes when these are used. If you do tread a well-worn lyrical path, add something of your own, something new, or else you may be better off with an instrumental tune.
If you take the time to write lyrics, you might as well take the time to pronounce them, out loud, on stage. Mumbling is not singing, and it loses an audience.
If you write a song about your own life, make sure you leave your audience something they can connect to. “My life sucks” is not a good song – unless they listeners can picture themselves as you. Self absorption turns an audience off.
Happy songs are almost always the best choice. We give license to the best artists to take us on a sad journey, because they can make it visceral, and we can marvel in their craftsmanship. Most of us, though, write flawed songs and lack world-class performance talent. An audience will forgive quite a bit if they can tap their toes and get a smile from a song. A sad song, written and performed poorly, is unbearable.
PRESENTATION
Live music is not just about music. The audience is making judgments before the first note is played, and you have a small window to get them rooting for you. Your name and your appearance are appraised, categorized, and filed before the first note is played.
Having a memorable stage name helps. Wearing something playful helps, too. Everything looks smaller on stage – ostentatious things look fun, and tasteful things look plain. Go big.
When you intro a song, saying “I'm trying something new with this one” engages an audience. Saying, “I'm sorry, I'm really not that good yet” turns an audience off.
Musically, you are presenting three things – lyrics, vocals, and instrumental music. Whichever of the three is worst is the one the audience will notice most. Don't sacrifice one to help the others.
The best thing you can do is look happy to be there. Smiling and making eye contact with an audience gives you a huge leg up. You're not playing for yourself, you are playing for an audience, and when a performer doesn't realize this it really shows. At an open mic, people came to hear an unknown artist trying to find their artistic voice. Give them that.
SO NOW WHAT?
It has often been said that we learn from our mistakes. A great shortcut is to learn from someone else's mistakes. Going to an open mic night is easy, it's a fun night out, and it can be a super-charged learning experience if you are paying attention.
At the very least, you will think twice before you call any song on the radio a “bad song”. The term will take on a whole new meaning.