Well, I did it...I gathered up all my blogs, both active & inactive from various sites, and put them all in one place on TomHawkRevisited. Older stories from general topics and my earler articles concerning music (mine & music in general) now "live" there. There's a heap of reading there, so it's not for the faint of heart. But if you are in the mood to hoe thru it, "WELCOME!"...
Friday, March 4, 2011
The music...
As I've said, for me its always been about the music. Very early on I got absorbed by music, and sort of became a conduit for songs to come into being. For this I am grateful, as that creative connection that happens at the birth of a song has been one of the greatest experiences I could hope for...
But it hasn't been all fun. Unlike many who pursue music because it looks like a "fun way to make a living" or to have people look up to them & give a boost to self-esteem that's lacking, for me it was different.
I often felt more like I've been handed some heavy stone tablets and sent out with a mission to find people who will listen. And I'm ill-suited and frankly reluctant to deal with such a task.
But that's only on bad days. The reason I feel that way, is because in many ways I never felt the songs were mine. Of course at the same time they are mine as they seem to take the shape of the opening thru which they came into being.
(More on this when I write other articles on creativity and/or inspiration.)
Anyway, I don't take any real credit for this music yet I value it highly, putting me in an odd position where I feel a strong desire to get it out there & yet don't really want to put myself too much in the spotlight. I guess I love the songs themselves and where they came from and out of that gratitude want to share them with anyone who can find value in them.
Now about the music itself...If you were to listen to a few songs from the Circular Flight album, you would probably come to the conclusion that I was mainly an acoustic/folk type of guy and that wouldn't be too far off. I am a product of the singer-songwriter generation and that had a big influence on me.
I developed a lot musically listening to James Taylor, John Denver, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, Gordon Lightfoot....etc.,etc.
But keep in mind that in choosing the tunes for the album, I searched my catalog of around 135 songs looking for those selections that 1)Were similar in theme and character and 2) were of sufficient quality that I felt they ought to be recorded somewhere rather than left behind and forgotten. Although my heart is certainly well-planted in these styles of music, they are by no means the extent of my catalog. I will use a similar formula to populate future albums, but the music will be quite different.
In fact, I have at least 2 more albums planned, including the one on which I am currently working. It will contain a number of my darker and heavier tunes and feature more electric guitar work. It would probably suprise "CFlight" listeners to find I spent most of my early years on guitar learning to play blues. That and jazz influences I picked up at Berklee finally come to light.
If this isn't a sharp enough break, the third album will contain a number of country songs. This mystifies even myself for I have never really been a country fan nor consider myself a country artist...But it should be noted that, as a lover of music, I spent several years immersing myself in country music to try and distill in my head what was good about country and what wasn't. Like most popular forms I found country to be more than 80% throwaway material, much of written "intentionally" based on clever concepts with little that's genuine.
(sort of like George Burns...the biggest thing in show business is sincerity...learn to fake that & you've got it made.....)
But somehow it got into me. And being an "inspired writer", I often have little control over what I write...being limited to the options of "accepting" or "rejecting" what comes my way. Usually when a song comes, it tells me itself what style it wants to be clothed in....Hence the eclectic nature of "my" music.
That's the overview. When I get around to it, I will put up some samples from the first album, and later some from the album yet to come. If you stumble on this page and like what you hear,great...If you don't...that's fine...keep looking for your own spaces.
But it hasn't been all fun. Unlike many who pursue music because it looks like a "fun way to make a living" or to have people look up to them & give a boost to self-esteem that's lacking, for me it was different.
I often felt more like I've been handed some heavy stone tablets and sent out with a mission to find people who will listen. And I'm ill-suited and frankly reluctant to deal with such a task.
But that's only on bad days. The reason I feel that way, is because in many ways I never felt the songs were mine. Of course at the same time they are mine as they seem to take the shape of the opening thru which they came into being.
(More on this when I write other articles on creativity and/or inspiration.)
Anyway, I don't take any real credit for this music yet I value it highly, putting me in an odd position where I feel a strong desire to get it out there & yet don't really want to put myself too much in the spotlight. I guess I love the songs themselves and where they came from and out of that gratitude want to share them with anyone who can find value in them.
Now about the music itself...If you were to listen to a few songs from the Circular Flight album, you would probably come to the conclusion that I was mainly an acoustic/folk type of guy and that wouldn't be too far off. I am a product of the singer-songwriter generation and that had a big influence on me.
I developed a lot musically listening to James Taylor, John Denver, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, Gordon Lightfoot....etc.,etc.
But keep in mind that in choosing the tunes for the album, I searched my catalog of around 135 songs looking for those selections that 1)Were similar in theme and character and 2) were of sufficient quality that I felt they ought to be recorded somewhere rather than left behind and forgotten. Although my heart is certainly well-planted in these styles of music, they are by no means the extent of my catalog. I will use a similar formula to populate future albums, but the music will be quite different.
In fact, I have at least 2 more albums planned, including the one on which I am currently working. It will contain a number of my darker and heavier tunes and feature more electric guitar work. It would probably suprise "CFlight" listeners to find I spent most of my early years on guitar learning to play blues. That and jazz influences I picked up at Berklee finally come to light.
If this isn't a sharp enough break, the third album will contain a number of country songs. This mystifies even myself for I have never really been a country fan nor consider myself a country artist...But it should be noted that, as a lover of music, I spent several years immersing myself in country music to try and distill in my head what was good about country and what wasn't. Like most popular forms I found country to be more than 80% throwaway material, much of written "intentionally" based on clever concepts with little that's genuine.
(sort of like George Burns...the biggest thing in show business is sincerity...learn to fake that & you've got it made.....)
But somehow it got into me. And being an "inspired writer", I often have little control over what I write...being limited to the options of "accepting" or "rejecting" what comes my way. Usually when a song comes, it tells me itself what style it wants to be clothed in....Hence the eclectic nature of "my" music.
That's the overview. When I get around to it, I will put up some samples from the first album, and later some from the album yet to come. If you stumble on this page and like what you hear,great...If you don't...that's fine...keep looking for your own spaces.
Who is Tom Hawk...
My least favorite part, writing about myself. As I say, for me it has always been about the music. I seem to be designed to create music and it has never been intentional.
First and foremost I have always been a songwriter. I enjoy playing instruments and am reasonably competent but not a virtuoso. I can sing, but was not born with the kind of rich, emotionally-packed voice that is so popular these days. I put expression into my performances, but due to the physical structure of my "instrument" it doesn't always come out as obvious as if I had been born with such a voice.
No, I am a musician, but it's really about the songs. As I have said I have always written from inspiriation, musical seeds from somewhere beyond that find fertile ground in the garden of my mind. They take me over and grow steadily until they reach maturity and must be recorded and put out so the empty space in my head can be reclaimed.
Of course, if something comes to me that doesn't grab me by the arm and scream at me, it gets weeded out. I tell it to go away, and it does....
But...who am I? I haven't got a clue. What I'm about may be a different story. For more about my thoughts on subjects other than music, you can always visit the articles under "The posts...in reverse order", for that's where I do that.
For this page though....If you toss me in a vat of acid and dissolve away all the rich detail of my personality, then step back about 20 feet to view me from a distance, a certain framework will start to emerge.
I have been obsessed with getting to the bottom of reality, only to find it to be a bottomless journey. This lends a spiritual element to the songs. The subject matter turns out very universal while the perspectives turn out unique. This I find a happy combination which prevents my expressions from being "run of the mill". As an artist, I do not find value in songs that are "copies" of someones style nor in unoriginal ideas. However, I do believe in the value of building on what has come before, and writing in familiar styles while introducing innovative elements that enhance those styles.
Certain themes are continually emerging in my songs, and often re-emerging in ever more insightful forms. Nature, spirituality and of course, romance (why should I be different...? I am after all, a lover, like many artists) are topics that constantly re-occur. My "down, heavy" tunes always contain an element of hope to balance them, even in pain. My "soaring, happy" tunes (some might say "sappy") always have a sad, despairing undercurrent which keeps them grounded in reality. Never forget where you are.
Anyway, my music is not for everyone! And I think this a good thing. To be popular, you have to get into the common outlook. That's fine if it is natural to you, and then you can be popular with no shame. If I were to try it, it would be intentional, and a sort of con-game. Better to keep my "uncommon view", and try to attract those people who can find these tunes as maybe one more rung on the ladder of their own journey or a little comfort in knowing maybe they are not quite alone in their own "uncommon" perspective.
First and foremost I have always been a songwriter. I enjoy playing instruments and am reasonably competent but not a virtuoso. I can sing, but was not born with the kind of rich, emotionally-packed voice that is so popular these days. I put expression into my performances, but due to the physical structure of my "instrument" it doesn't always come out as obvious as if I had been born with such a voice.
No, I am a musician, but it's really about the songs. As I have said I have always written from inspiriation, musical seeds from somewhere beyond that find fertile ground in the garden of my mind. They take me over and grow steadily until they reach maturity and must be recorded and put out so the empty space in my head can be reclaimed.
Of course, if something comes to me that doesn't grab me by the arm and scream at me, it gets weeded out. I tell it to go away, and it does....
But...who am I? I haven't got a clue. What I'm about may be a different story. For more about my thoughts on subjects other than music, you can always visit the articles under "The posts...in reverse order", for that's where I do that.
For this page though....If you toss me in a vat of acid and dissolve away all the rich detail of my personality, then step back about 20 feet to view me from a distance, a certain framework will start to emerge.
I have been obsessed with getting to the bottom of reality, only to find it to be a bottomless journey. This lends a spiritual element to the songs. The subject matter turns out very universal while the perspectives turn out unique. This I find a happy combination which prevents my expressions from being "run of the mill". As an artist, I do not find value in songs that are "copies" of someones style nor in unoriginal ideas. However, I do believe in the value of building on what has come before, and writing in familiar styles while introducing innovative elements that enhance those styles.
Certain themes are continually emerging in my songs, and often re-emerging in ever more insightful forms. Nature, spirituality and of course, romance (why should I be different...? I am after all, a lover, like many artists) are topics that constantly re-occur. My "down, heavy" tunes always contain an element of hope to balance them, even in pain. My "soaring, happy" tunes (some might say "sappy") always have a sad, despairing undercurrent which keeps them grounded in reality. Never forget where you are.
Anyway, my music is not for everyone! And I think this a good thing. To be popular, you have to get into the common outlook. That's fine if it is natural to you, and then you can be popular with no shame. If I were to try it, it would be intentional, and a sort of con-game. Better to keep my "uncommon view", and try to attract those people who can find these tunes as maybe one more rung on the ladder of their own journey or a little comfort in knowing maybe they are not quite alone in their own "uncommon" perspective.
"Circular Flight" liner notes...
Presented here are the liner notes which were omitted from my first album, "Circular Flight" in order to self-publish it in it's current incarnation...
It exists now only as a CD-R with home printed graphics. If there were ever enough interest, I would have a run of CDs produced and these liner notes would be restored.
First is the copy off the rear of the insert, explaining why I chose the theme of "circles" for my concept:
"THIS ALBUM IS ABOUT CIRCLES.
Native people tell us that all things move in circles and anyone who looks can see that this is so. Nights follow days, season follows season, rain makes its way to the ocean and comes back again as rain. Tides ebb and flow.
Even our lives form circles. We return to the womb each night to be reborn again in the morning. Babies enter our lives and old friends die.
Once I was a musician, then I wasn't, and now I am again. The themes contained in this album are ones that have been recurring throughout my life. I find it both interesting and satisfying to see how they have grown as they find their way into songs over the years.
I hope you will get a sense of that 'interwoveness', not only while listening, but in your own life as well"
In the middle of the insert is the following:
The Songs
The Garden was written from 1980 to sometime in 1981. This was my first reflection on the nature of good and bad quality in the realm of human experience, a subject I have studied intensely for some time since.
Didn't I Tell You? was written in March of 1980.
Autumn Wind The first two verses came while wandering in a semi-wild area on my lunch hours in the fall of 1979. It was completed by the Fall of 1980.
Seasonsong was born on a very bad day in July of 1980. It was completed during 1981.
Lily's Song was written for college friend Lillian Kushi, daughter of Michio Kushi who is a well-known macrobiotic dietician.
The song was essentially completed between May 1979 and September 1980.
When I learned of her death in January 1995 at the age of 41, I changed the last line of the third verse to "You're forever in my heart." It is recorded here in her memory.
Images of Maine Begun during a long period away from the place I longed to be. Intense images of places I'd been and places I loved would flash through my mind. With them came the chorus and bits of verses.
I started it in April of '81 but didn't reach its current state until April of '84.
Empty Spaces is a prayer which came from a dream in 1999.
Let's Fly is based on an original melody my wife made up while singing to herself. The rest is what it inspired in me. Written in 1999.
Losing Game The story behind this song is the story of this album. Originating of music and songs has always been a gift for me, as natural as breathing and as difficult to stop.
But writing, arranging and home-recording my music was so time-consuming, that it left no time for a "normal" life. Professional recording was an expensive proposition at the time. And I had just had a huge disappointment with the 45 rpm record I was trying to promote (CDs had just entered the scene). So I felt I had to stop.
I prayed for no more songs to come to me. And they didn't.
That was in 1989. "Losing Game" had already been conceived, consisting only of a chorus. And for the next 10 years I regarded it as my last great song that no one would ever hear.
I traveled a bit, got married, settled somewhat and grew a little older.
Then over a period of only a few months going into 1999, I suddenly found my point of view turned completely around and aimed again at the making of music.
The songs returned like birds in the spring, and by July 2000, "Losing Game" was finished, and the idea for this album was born.
Earthwind began in a dream and was completed in April 1999.
Many thanks to H.J. Deutchendorff Jr.!
Personnel/Acknowledgments
Written, arranged, recorded, mixed, and all performances by Tom Hawk, (except "Let's Fly" music by Debra Hawk & Tom Hawk, lyrics by Tom Hawk). Occasional assistance: Debra. Thanks to Clyde for the cables!
It exists now only as a CD-R with home printed graphics. If there were ever enough interest, I would have a run of CDs produced and these liner notes would be restored.
First is the copy off the rear of the insert, explaining why I chose the theme of "circles" for my concept:
"THIS ALBUM IS ABOUT CIRCLES.
Native people tell us that all things move in circles and anyone who looks can see that this is so. Nights follow days, season follows season, rain makes its way to the ocean and comes back again as rain. Tides ebb and flow.
Even our lives form circles. We return to the womb each night to be reborn again in the morning. Babies enter our lives and old friends die.
Once I was a musician, then I wasn't, and now I am again. The themes contained in this album are ones that have been recurring throughout my life. I find it both interesting and satisfying to see how they have grown as they find their way into songs over the years.
I hope you will get a sense of that 'interwoveness', not only while listening, but in your own life as well"
In the middle of the insert is the following:
The Songs
The Garden was written from 1980 to sometime in 1981. This was my first reflection on the nature of good and bad quality in the realm of human experience, a subject I have studied intensely for some time since.
Didn't I Tell You? was written in March of 1980.
Autumn Wind The first two verses came while wandering in a semi-wild area on my lunch hours in the fall of 1979. It was completed by the Fall of 1980.
Seasonsong was born on a very bad day in July of 1980. It was completed during 1981.
Lily's Song was written for college friend Lillian Kushi, daughter of Michio Kushi who is a well-known macrobiotic dietician.
The song was essentially completed between May 1979 and September 1980.
When I learned of her death in January 1995 at the age of 41, I changed the last line of the third verse to "You're forever in my heart." It is recorded here in her memory.
Images of Maine Begun during a long period away from the place I longed to be. Intense images of places I'd been and places I loved would flash through my mind. With them came the chorus and bits of verses.
I started it in April of '81 but didn't reach its current state until April of '84.
Empty Spaces is a prayer which came from a dream in 1999.
Let's Fly is based on an original melody my wife made up while singing to herself. The rest is what it inspired in me. Written in 1999.
Losing Game The story behind this song is the story of this album. Originating of music and songs has always been a gift for me, as natural as breathing and as difficult to stop.
But writing, arranging and home-recording my music was so time-consuming, that it left no time for a "normal" life. Professional recording was an expensive proposition at the time. And I had just had a huge disappointment with the 45 rpm record I was trying to promote (CDs had just entered the scene). So I felt I had to stop.
I prayed for no more songs to come to me. And they didn't.
That was in 1989. "Losing Game" had already been conceived, consisting only of a chorus. And for the next 10 years I regarded it as my last great song that no one would ever hear.
I traveled a bit, got married, settled somewhat and grew a little older.
Then over a period of only a few months going into 1999, I suddenly found my point of view turned completely around and aimed again at the making of music.
The songs returned like birds in the spring, and by July 2000, "Losing Game" was finished, and the idea for this album was born.
Earthwind began in a dream and was completed in April 1999.
Many thanks to H.J. Deutchendorff Jr.!
Personnel/Acknowledgments
Written, arranged, recorded, mixed, and all performances by Tom Hawk, (except "Let's Fly" music by Debra Hawk & Tom Hawk, lyrics by Tom Hawk). Occasional assistance: Debra. Thanks to Clyde for the cables!
Inspiration vs. intention...
So far I've been talking about inspiration and intentional writing as though they are two different things. This is natural due to the constraints of human conceptualizations and the limits of language. But as with all things of this universe they are polar opposites but also suspend a huge area of common ground between them where they meet & mingle....
On the far end of the scale exists "pure inspiration" and I have been lucky enough to experience this phenomena numerous times. Very often, a chorus, a chorus plus a verse, or even an entire song will drop on me suddenly complete with its arrangement. All I have to do is work it out to reflect what I've heard and take care of the details (though even this is no small task).
This is the way the majority of songs have come to me in recent years. Since my life has changed since getting married and running a household, there is little time for me to keep my mind open for inspiration during waking hours. I am occupied. So they have been coming to me in dreams.
I will hear a song in my dream, or the central theme of one complete with lyrics, melody, support. My job is simply to get it written down upon waking before I forget. This is not a new thing to me. I have always had some come in this way. But it has become the rule more than the exception.
Then there is another form of inspiration that is nearly as dramatic. The song "On the Freeway" is the epitome of this type. (This tune is not yet released as of this writing...it exists but the vocal has not yet been recorded, nor has it been mixed)
In Dec. 1988, I went to California to meet my (eventual) wife for the 1st time (we had been writing back & forth for 6 months). After spending a couple of weeks of unmitigated fun with each other, one day in January of '89, we took a very memorable (adventurous & cold!) ride on her little scooter, and something broke loose in my consciousness. It was a combination of many factors & influences that brought it on, and I felt as though it began on my first car ride with her to her home after she had picked me up. It simmered in the back of my mind over the following weeks, and finally bubbled over on that scooter ride.
When we finally made it back home after traveling over treacherous, often icy, roads, I dismounted the bike and announced to her, "I just wrote a song..."
Naturally, she asked "How does it go?" to which I replied,"I can't tell you."
The reason I couldn't tell her is because it came as a sort of amorphous, illogical creative bubble which I can only decribe as spiritual...It sounds crazy to those who aren't involved in the creative process...It had melody, but was made up of no notes that were recognizeable in this world, it had not words as such, but an abstract conceptualization that could be put into words with some effort.
And so, my job then, was to act as a "translator" of this otherworldly song into something that could be understood by the human race in general. And in 2 weeks "Freeway" existed as a home recording, and I sent it to her.
So then, even though we're still at the "inspiration" end of the scale, already we see intention starting to enter the picture. The only way I was able to "translate" that creative bubble into something others could share was due to the skills I have aquired in the craft of songwriting. Musical & lyrical choices to express the mood and essence of what I had experienced could only be crafted because of long-time study and knowledge of these things.
Often when a tune comes in a rush, but with pieces missing, I am called upon to use this learned craft to sort of "fill in the blanks" to make the tune whole...but always keep it in line with the original inspiration.
But sometimes the tune will grow while writing or even recording it. Here we have the middle of the scale: inspiration entering even in the midst of writing with intention. The two are not mutually exclusive and many great songs have been written this way.
I am thinking now of Paul Simon, who according to the liner notes of his later albums, has abandoned the method of writing the song, then arranging, then finding musicians to fill the tracks. If I understand him correctly he usually now makes a great track, comes up with an idea that seems to fit, and begins looking for the creative bursts that will help him write lines to fufill the idea. This too is inspiration, and I find this idea fascinating. To me it seems to dwell most comfortably in the realm of collaboration. I cite Will Ackerman's music as an example.
The far end of the scale is what I call the "Nashville songwriter" syndrome. And by this I truly mean no disrespect to Nashville songwriters in general. Many of these are truly talented individuals, who seem to have their own creative muse and are masters of the craft of writing as well. But far too often I see those who are possesed of some skill in the craft, but are using it in a more or less prostitutory manner. They rack their brains searching for a clever idea that will resonate with the public, craft a song to the idea, and then twist and polish the lines & rhymes to try to hide the seams to make them appear natural.
They may pull the wool over the public's eyes, but as someone who lives close to the other end of the scale, it's just disgusting.
As an example, my Dad was a carpenter who built many houses in his time and had the gift of craftsmanship. Whenever we would enter a building or sit down in a restaurant, he couldn't help pointing out the flaws..."Look at the gaps between those boards, they're all over the place"..."Who the heck put that moulding on, they must have been drinking..." "Why didn't they bother to...?"....etc...etc...
Well, when you become good at anything, this tends to happen. As a songwriter who cares about my work, the flaws in other people's writing become obvious. I see the seams. I see their mind working, making one choice & rejecting another. Many sucessful tunes I have heard, I would have thrown out had that idea come to me...in fact I've heard ideas that have come to me, been rejected, and later have turned up on TV or radio...And I still don't like them.
It sounds as though I'm being really judgemental but I assure you, in reality it is not the case. It's just the pitfall of discrimination that all artists must use in order to create a work of quality. We must be very sensitive to what's good and what's bad.
Those people who own the restaurant don't really care if the boards are on crooked, just as long as the building doesn't fall down. Different things for different people. Different music for different purposes. That's the freedom of it. Make your own choice.
Just remember that success and quality don't neccessarily equate.
On the far end of the scale exists "pure inspiration" and I have been lucky enough to experience this phenomena numerous times. Very often, a chorus, a chorus plus a verse, or even an entire song will drop on me suddenly complete with its arrangement. All I have to do is work it out to reflect what I've heard and take care of the details (though even this is no small task).
This is the way the majority of songs have come to me in recent years. Since my life has changed since getting married and running a household, there is little time for me to keep my mind open for inspiration during waking hours. I am occupied. So they have been coming to me in dreams.
I will hear a song in my dream, or the central theme of one complete with lyrics, melody, support. My job is simply to get it written down upon waking before I forget. This is not a new thing to me. I have always had some come in this way. But it has become the rule more than the exception.
Then there is another form of inspiration that is nearly as dramatic. The song "On the Freeway" is the epitome of this type. (This tune is not yet released as of this writing...it exists but the vocal has not yet been recorded, nor has it been mixed)
In Dec. 1988, I went to California to meet my (eventual) wife for the 1st time (we had been writing back & forth for 6 months). After spending a couple of weeks of unmitigated fun with each other, one day in January of '89, we took a very memorable (adventurous & cold!) ride on her little scooter, and something broke loose in my consciousness. It was a combination of many factors & influences that brought it on, and I felt as though it began on my first car ride with her to her home after she had picked me up. It simmered in the back of my mind over the following weeks, and finally bubbled over on that scooter ride.
When we finally made it back home after traveling over treacherous, often icy, roads, I dismounted the bike and announced to her, "I just wrote a song..."
Naturally, she asked "How does it go?" to which I replied,"I can't tell you."
The reason I couldn't tell her is because it came as a sort of amorphous, illogical creative bubble which I can only decribe as spiritual...It sounds crazy to those who aren't involved in the creative process...It had melody, but was made up of no notes that were recognizeable in this world, it had not words as such, but an abstract conceptualization that could be put into words with some effort.
And so, my job then, was to act as a "translator" of this otherworldly song into something that could be understood by the human race in general. And in 2 weeks "Freeway" existed as a home recording, and I sent it to her.
So then, even though we're still at the "inspiration" end of the scale, already we see intention starting to enter the picture. The only way I was able to "translate" that creative bubble into something others could share was due to the skills I have aquired in the craft of songwriting. Musical & lyrical choices to express the mood and essence of what I had experienced could only be crafted because of long-time study and knowledge of these things.
Often when a tune comes in a rush, but with pieces missing, I am called upon to use this learned craft to sort of "fill in the blanks" to make the tune whole...but always keep it in line with the original inspiration.
But sometimes the tune will grow while writing or even recording it. Here we have the middle of the scale: inspiration entering even in the midst of writing with intention. The two are not mutually exclusive and many great songs have been written this way.
I am thinking now of Paul Simon, who according to the liner notes of his later albums, has abandoned the method of writing the song, then arranging, then finding musicians to fill the tracks. If I understand him correctly he usually now makes a great track, comes up with an idea that seems to fit, and begins looking for the creative bursts that will help him write lines to fufill the idea. This too is inspiration, and I find this idea fascinating. To me it seems to dwell most comfortably in the realm of collaboration. I cite Will Ackerman's music as an example.
The far end of the scale is what I call the "Nashville songwriter" syndrome. And by this I truly mean no disrespect to Nashville songwriters in general. Many of these are truly talented individuals, who seem to have their own creative muse and are masters of the craft of writing as well. But far too often I see those who are possesed of some skill in the craft, but are using it in a more or less prostitutory manner. They rack their brains searching for a clever idea that will resonate with the public, craft a song to the idea, and then twist and polish the lines & rhymes to try to hide the seams to make them appear natural.
They may pull the wool over the public's eyes, but as someone who lives close to the other end of the scale, it's just disgusting.
As an example, my Dad was a carpenter who built many houses in his time and had the gift of craftsmanship. Whenever we would enter a building or sit down in a restaurant, he couldn't help pointing out the flaws..."Look at the gaps between those boards, they're all over the place"..."Who the heck put that moulding on, they must have been drinking..." "Why didn't they bother to...?"....etc...etc...
Well, when you become good at anything, this tends to happen. As a songwriter who cares about my work, the flaws in other people's writing become obvious. I see the seams. I see their mind working, making one choice & rejecting another. Many sucessful tunes I have heard, I would have thrown out had that idea come to me...in fact I've heard ideas that have come to me, been rejected, and later have turned up on TV or radio...And I still don't like them.
It sounds as though I'm being really judgemental but I assure you, in reality it is not the case. It's just the pitfall of discrimination that all artists must use in order to create a work of quality. We must be very sensitive to what's good and what's bad.
Those people who own the restaurant don't really care if the boards are on crooked, just as long as the building doesn't fall down. Different things for different people. Different music for different purposes. That's the freedom of it. Make your own choice.
Just remember that success and quality don't neccessarily equate.
The Quandry of the artist...
There are many problems that face an artist in the production of his work. An artist's job, once he/she has an inspiration of some sort is mainly a process of "discrimination", choosing or aiming to keep or enhance ideas of good quality, and to eliminate or minimize the effects of bad quality...
The same with the making of the recording. Attempting to create that which compliments and adds value to the tune's concept, and reworking or throwing out anything that detracts.
In order to do this, an artist needs to be "quality sensitive". He or she must know the difference between fine champagne and "bathtub gin", so to speak. Usually this is built into the artists nature and so they are often known as "tempermental" in many aspects of their lives above and beyond their art. Often, I will be far from the end of making a recording, I will play what I've got to check my tracks (which are full of mistakes and imbalances), and my wife will say "Sounds fine...leave it like that.".....What?....NEVER!
Of course this is the nature of being an artist. If we settled for the level of quality we have, we would never improve and refine our art. We'd still be drawing "stick figures", like in kindergarten.
And herein lies the quandry of the artist. My sensabilities, skill and knowledge grow so dramatically with each work that I produce, that by the time I have finished, I really should throw that work out & remake it using all the knowledge that I got while doing it. But if I did, the same thing would happen all over again, and I would be re-making that tune over & over for the rest of my life, and no one would ever hear it!
So there has to come a point where I have to say..."good enough". And send it out into the world even with all its flaws.
As a result, while on one level I have a deep affection for all my tunes, on another level there isn't a single one I wouldn't tear apart & re-make. If I'm really tuned in, as I am when I'm working on music day to day, I actually cringe when I hear my finished tunes. With my newly gained knowledge and artistic senses I could have done so much better a job with it now, and all the mistakes are apparent.
And so I will never be an accurate judge of my own work. I have to focus on the feeling I have for the tune and try to ignore the technical aspects....
So to all of you out there with a tendency toward the critical...try not to be too harsh. To an artist, all work already finished is inferior, even to us...That work has a life of its own now. If its lucky, it will find a person who appreciates it, just the way it is..........
The same with the making of the recording. Attempting to create that which compliments and adds value to the tune's concept, and reworking or throwing out anything that detracts.
In order to do this, an artist needs to be "quality sensitive". He or she must know the difference between fine champagne and "bathtub gin", so to speak. Usually this is built into the artists nature and so they are often known as "tempermental" in many aspects of their lives above and beyond their art. Often, I will be far from the end of making a recording, I will play what I've got to check my tracks (which are full of mistakes and imbalances), and my wife will say "Sounds fine...leave it like that.".....What?....NEVER!
Of course this is the nature of being an artist. If we settled for the level of quality we have, we would never improve and refine our art. We'd still be drawing "stick figures", like in kindergarten.
And herein lies the quandry of the artist. My sensabilities, skill and knowledge grow so dramatically with each work that I produce, that by the time I have finished, I really should throw that work out & remake it using all the knowledge that I got while doing it. But if I did, the same thing would happen all over again, and I would be re-making that tune over & over for the rest of my life, and no one would ever hear it!
So there has to come a point where I have to say..."good enough". And send it out into the world even with all its flaws.
As a result, while on one level I have a deep affection for all my tunes, on another level there isn't a single one I wouldn't tear apart & re-make. If I'm really tuned in, as I am when I'm working on music day to day, I actually cringe when I hear my finished tunes. With my newly gained knowledge and artistic senses I could have done so much better a job with it now, and all the mistakes are apparent.
And so I will never be an accurate judge of my own work. I have to focus on the feeling I have for the tune and try to ignore the technical aspects....
So to all of you out there with a tendency toward the critical...try not to be too harsh. To an artist, all work already finished is inferior, even to us...That work has a life of its own now. If its lucky, it will find a person who appreciates it, just the way it is..........
About "Earthwind"...
If you read another of my articles, you know that I do not hold "copies" of another person's music or style in high regard. For this reason, I feel a detailed account of the origin of "Earthwind" is in order. Although I love the tune and am immensely grateful that it came to me, it put me in a sort of philosophical bind, as I did not ever want to be considered (or see myself as) a "copycat". I briefly even considered suppressing the tune, but I could not bear that. It had to be made, whatever the consequences....
Where this tune came from can only be regarded as a mystery and I myself have no firm conclusions on the subject. But it is no more mysterious than other "inspirations", so I will only relay the facts and you can decide for yourself...Or else like me, let it remain a mystery.
It was several months after John Denver's passing that I had a dream. In this dream, I was in a gift shop in Vermont that I have been to often. There they have a machine with previews of the music on their nature CDs, you know, like wolves howling set to a musical background, loons with classical music, thunderstorms...things like that.
Anyway, in the dream I was looking at this machine that played these sample "snippets". And on it I noticed a John Denver song that I had never heard before...which is odd, since I have followed all his work, and now he was gone. Was it from an un-released album, I wondered...?
I pushed the switch...and out drifted the short little guitar intro, and then his clear voice came out of the speaker...
"Earthwind...Older than time...."
And the dream was over. I puzzled over this. Where could a song like this go? What was it's concept? It seemed like a dead end. He had already said all that with "Windsong" hadn't he?
At the time that this occured, I was no longer a songwriter so I didn't bother to note the date, though it was somewhere between Jan. and March of 1998. But why had this come to me? I had quit writing songs and didn't know what to do with it. But it was stuck in my head, and I treasured it because if nothing else it was a sort of farewell thought of him.
Fast forward to the spring of 1999. I was suddenly & unexpectedly a songwriter again & they were coming fast & furious. I was walking my dog in the woods one morning and turning that little phrase over in my head. It didn't seem to lead anywhere. It had no central concept.
A little while later on that walk, I came over the top of a little hill, looking down into a small hollow that has been kind of a special place to me. And just as I arrived there, the sun was coming over the hill and down into that hollow.
I heard in my mind, "...the light of the sun touched our Mother that morn..." WHAT WAS THAT?! It had come out of the beyond somewhere. And a few minutes later, as I walked..."In the warmth of his fire that being was born..."
I called up my dog and hurried home to write that down.
I did that, and was stumped. I was hearing music, too, so I grabbed up a guitar to work it out. I kept playing those chords and writing them down. But the song still had no center.
As I was working out what I had, another line came and another...but it wasn't like they were coming from me. I was baffled. I'd sit there and say "what next?" and a line would come, already complete. I'd write it down and say "what next?" again.
And that's how it was written. As though someone were standing there over my shoulder, telling me what to write. When I was done I had a complete song. All I had to do was fix a couple of "fuzzy" words, and put the verses in an order that made sense.
So, the song is not an intentional copying of anyone. Nor was it written as a "tribute" song. But the arrangement is all mine and in that, the tribute is intentional, complete with Lee Holdridge-style strings.
I would also like to add that while a number of people have me figured as a John Denver clone, I don't believe that holds up when looked at closely. "Earthwind" and "Images of Maine" sort of show similarities, but by and large the writing styles and phrasings of the vast sum of my tunes are quite different.
Much of what is counted in me as Mr. Denver's influence is mis-attributed. It's actually the fact that I bear certain similarities of artistic outlook to him that caused me to follow him & his career, and not so much for me to emulate his music. The similarites are what attracted and interested me in the first place.
We were both "inspired" writers. We both felt a strong bond with nature. We both sought a universal view for mankind. We both wrote of our soaring highs and low lows.
But there the simlarity ends. We were two very different individuals. And close scrutiny of our respective "musics" would bear this out. I believe this will become more evident if & when the rest of my catalog is revealed.
P.S. Here's another odd clue...when the tune first came to me, I dreamed it in the key of E, which would have been his key. Because the top of my range is a minor third lower than his, I lowered it. I tuned the guitar to an open D tuning.
I can't remember, but I may actually have recorded it with the guitar tuned to Db, which Paul Winter said is the key in which the Earth sings...
Where this tune came from can only be regarded as a mystery and I myself have no firm conclusions on the subject. But it is no more mysterious than other "inspirations", so I will only relay the facts and you can decide for yourself...Or else like me, let it remain a mystery.
It was several months after John Denver's passing that I had a dream. In this dream, I was in a gift shop in Vermont that I have been to often. There they have a machine with previews of the music on their nature CDs, you know, like wolves howling set to a musical background, loons with classical music, thunderstorms...things like that.
Anyway, in the dream I was looking at this machine that played these sample "snippets". And on it I noticed a John Denver song that I had never heard before...which is odd, since I have followed all his work, and now he was gone. Was it from an un-released album, I wondered...?
I pushed the switch...and out drifted the short little guitar intro, and then his clear voice came out of the speaker...
"Earthwind...Older than time...."
And the dream was over. I puzzled over this. Where could a song like this go? What was it's concept? It seemed like a dead end. He had already said all that with "Windsong" hadn't he?
At the time that this occured, I was no longer a songwriter so I didn't bother to note the date, though it was somewhere between Jan. and March of 1998. But why had this come to me? I had quit writing songs and didn't know what to do with it. But it was stuck in my head, and I treasured it because if nothing else it was a sort of farewell thought of him.
Fast forward to the spring of 1999. I was suddenly & unexpectedly a songwriter again & they were coming fast & furious. I was walking my dog in the woods one morning and turning that little phrase over in my head. It didn't seem to lead anywhere. It had no central concept.
A little while later on that walk, I came over the top of a little hill, looking down into a small hollow that has been kind of a special place to me. And just as I arrived there, the sun was coming over the hill and down into that hollow.
I heard in my mind, "...the light of the sun touched our Mother that morn..." WHAT WAS THAT?! It had come out of the beyond somewhere. And a few minutes later, as I walked..."In the warmth of his fire that being was born..."
I called up my dog and hurried home to write that down.
I did that, and was stumped. I was hearing music, too, so I grabbed up a guitar to work it out. I kept playing those chords and writing them down. But the song still had no center.
As I was working out what I had, another line came and another...but it wasn't like they were coming from me. I was baffled. I'd sit there and say "what next?" and a line would come, already complete. I'd write it down and say "what next?" again.
And that's how it was written. As though someone were standing there over my shoulder, telling me what to write. When I was done I had a complete song. All I had to do was fix a couple of "fuzzy" words, and put the verses in an order that made sense.
So, the song is not an intentional copying of anyone. Nor was it written as a "tribute" song. But the arrangement is all mine and in that, the tribute is intentional, complete with Lee Holdridge-style strings.
I would also like to add that while a number of people have me figured as a John Denver clone, I don't believe that holds up when looked at closely. "Earthwind" and "Images of Maine" sort of show similarities, but by and large the writing styles and phrasings of the vast sum of my tunes are quite different.
Much of what is counted in me as Mr. Denver's influence is mis-attributed. It's actually the fact that I bear certain similarities of artistic outlook to him that caused me to follow him & his career, and not so much for me to emulate his music. The similarites are what attracted and interested me in the first place.
We were both "inspired" writers. We both felt a strong bond with nature. We both sought a universal view for mankind. We both wrote of our soaring highs and low lows.
But there the simlarity ends. We were two very different individuals. And close scrutiny of our respective "musics" would bear this out. I believe this will become more evident if & when the rest of my catalog is revealed.
P.S. Here's another odd clue...when the tune first came to me, I dreamed it in the key of E, which would have been his key. Because the top of my range is a minor third lower than his, I lowered it. I tuned the guitar to an open D tuning.
I can't remember, but I may actually have recorded it with the guitar tuned to Db, which Paul Winter said is the key in which the Earth sings...
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