I brought a new song to a songwriting workshop with Sally Barris this past weekend, and it got panned. I learned a few things in the process.
This particular song was written for my wife. The idea for the song came from a moment when we were discussing our regular everyday things that we do, and juggle, and manage. There was a feeling of warmth between us that only couples can probably understand -- couples who have tacked life and kids, and job changes and health issues and aging parents (etc..) together for a while. At this particular moment she was also feeling down about some things she had screwed up (don't we all?).
Anyway, I smiled at her and said "you know... we make a pretty good team."
I played the original version of the song for her, nervously, and she liked it. Loved it, I'd even say. This is highly unusual -- she's my toughest critic -- to the point where I don't even play songs for her any more if I just want her approval (as opposed to her opinion).
When I offered the song at the workshop, though, the song fell flat. The meaning of the song relied on inside subtext that only my wife and I understood. It also wandered a bit (which was intentional -- another inside reference). Finally, the "pretty good team" hook didn't go over with a lot of people. I was told it felt almost negative.
I've been writing songs long enough to know that, when you offer a song for critique, you can't argue with your audience, and you can't be seeking approval. I didn't argue, but I will admit that, despite knowing intellectually that I was "too close" to the song to be objective, I really did want approval of my peers -- especially of Sally. I admit that it hurt to have the song fall so flat.
After I licked my wounds overnight, I tried to address the comments made by my peers, and re-wrote the song. The new version is what's posted on my site under "new stuff, rough cuts." This is the version that I took to our regular songwriters meeting last night.
The new version was well-received, though it still didn't seem to be a big winner. Especially with the ladies in the group.
Ah, well.
This particular song was written for my wife. The idea for the song came from a moment when we were discussing our regular everyday things that we do, and juggle, and manage. There was a feeling of warmth between us that only couples can probably understand -- couples who have tacked life and kids, and job changes and health issues and aging parents (etc..) together for a while. At this particular moment she was also feeling down about some things she had screwed up (don't we all?).
Anyway, I smiled at her and said "you know... we make a pretty good team."
I played the original version of the song for her, nervously, and she liked it. Loved it, I'd even say. This is highly unusual -- she's my toughest critic -- to the point where I don't even play songs for her any more if I just want her approval (as opposed to her opinion).
When I offered the song at the workshop, though, the song fell flat. The meaning of the song relied on inside subtext that only my wife and I understood. It also wandered a bit (which was intentional -- another inside reference). Finally, the "pretty good team" hook didn't go over with a lot of people. I was told it felt almost negative.
I've been writing songs long enough to know that, when you offer a song for critique, you can't argue with your audience, and you can't be seeking approval. I didn't argue, but I will admit that, despite knowing intellectually that I was "too close" to the song to be objective, I really did want approval of my peers -- especially of Sally. I admit that it hurt to have the song fall so flat.
After I licked my wounds overnight, I tried to address the comments made by my peers, and re-wrote the song. The new version is what's posted on my site under "new stuff, rough cuts." This is the version that I took to our regular songwriters meeting last night.
The new version was well-received, though it still didn't seem to be a big winner. Especially with the ladies in the group.
Ah, well.