I like stories about the inspiration and writing
of songs. Here’s a rambling ambling down memory lane about one of my songs.
In 2005 I finished a poem with a traditional
(grade school) structure I thought might someday be a song. That will raise an eyebrow
if you are familiar with the fact that a lot of contemporary lyrics for a long
time now are not exactly grade school structure. Well I’m unconventional enough
to think overly conventional is avant-garde. Yeah, I know… anyway.
The story of the poem is that I was reflecting on
the irony of how white pop/rock music giants like Eric Clapton (and an army of
white blues guitarists), the Beatles and the Stones often mentioned the
inspiration they found in the old scratchy recordings by black bluesmen from
decades before. From musing on that came the phrase “a white boy standing in a
black man’s blues” which stands a stereotype on its head and indirectly mangles
a hit song title from Elvis who in spite of his early regard for white southern
gospel was a champion of black pop and R&B artists. That phrase was the
spark and possible hook. The verses sprang from the idea of a figurative
conversation between New World and Old World dudes addressing each other across
the ocean. To this I added the irony of ancient races that reveal the way of
salvation amidst a modern world’s troubles. It is a stretch that I like.
As mentioned the poetic structure of the song
tended to frustrate developing an interesting melody and more than a few attempts
were dispatched into the infernal abyss of acapella moaning in Sheol. Then one
day a talented musician/songwriter Mr. Michael Roe announced a Kickstarter for
his new album “Guadalupe” (awesome, go get it). One of the awards was to have
him record or help you record your song. I bit and began the search for which
of my old dusty tunes, most written 30 years before I would submit. Settling on
my opus “Benedictus” (that’s right, Luke 1:68-79 set to music) , I practiced
like crazy just so I could record a rough demo. Sent Mike the tape and he said,
“nah… that song would take more work to arrange and record than intended”. So I
sulked for a good long while, went into rehab, got my hair cut, changed my
wardrobe, sold my gun collection, donated my fourteen beer-can mobiles to Good
Will because the Salvation Army wouldn’t take them, and stopped my subscription
to Mad magazine… changed my guitar strings and went to work on another song. I
thought, “dadgum it how can he not want to record my opus?! I know what I’ll do, I’ll make up something
so simple he’ll be embarrassed to record it and embarrassed not to.” I have a
kind of dark side like that.
So I grabbed this poem from 2005 and came up with
a song lickety-split. Sent it to Mike and he said “That’s a good tune and I
believe we could do it justice. Be thinking about how you would like to hear it
fleshed out. We could easily do this one
in a light country rock vein a la The Eagles/Poco/Daniel Amos, but for some
reason I am hearing electric 12 strings and harmonies like the early Byrds
records in my head when I hear you sing this, which would give it a more 60s
electric folk rock feel. Gosh that would
be beautiful for this, as your voice is already reminiscent of Gene Clark in
his later years.”
Well I was excited to hear that and dreadfully
flush with flattery. Sadly I didn’t like the tune one bit because it wasn’t
cool (you probably noticed Mike did not mention Clapton or the Beatles or the
Stones). Yet another musical idea flushed down the sewer of discordant
harmonies and malodorous melodies. As the sullen mood persisted, I started playing
with the chords and tune from a song I tried to write in junior high school
which I still remembered because I never stopped believing it was cool. I even
taught it to the garage band I was in at the time. Unfortunately it was
unfinished and no one then had the panache to co-write anything. We were too
busy figuring out what being cool really meant. So I threw out the old lyrics
and tried the music with this poem and started liking it enough I came up with
a change for the chorus and bam, there was my “second version” in all its
coolness!
Mike’s comments, “Are you still planning on us
cutting the second version of SIBMB?
Only asking ‘cuz I really like the first version a lot, but didn’t wanna
be learning the wrong version in case you weren’t sure. Either one is fine, I just dig Version One
‘cuz it reminds me of The Byrds …. old hippies die hard, I guess … The second version will most definitely be
simpler ‘cuz I won’t have to layer a bunch of electric 12 strings …. LOL” and
that was that.
At 10 am on a hot and sultry Saturday, June 14,
2014 I reported to Mark Harmon’s home recording studio, the HarmFarm, and he
and Mike began laying down the tracks. The challenges from my end were “I’m
hoping you will take care of the guitar chores. I’m a bit fumble-fingered no
matter how much I practice, and really look forward to your ideas.” And “I’m
just starting to sing a little again, my lungs are more clear and one ear is
hearing almost normal.” Yes that is right, “just starting to sing again” after
having a combination of four or more colds and flus through late winter and
spring that left me half-deaf and my pipes clogged with ongoing congestion.
Hence the rather subdued quality to my vocal.
Mike laid down the first acoustic track on a
Martin which is on one side of the final edition and ran through it again on a
bright Taylor with low E dropped to D (you can hear his octave changes on the
musical hook). Mark who was at the controls put that on the other side. This second
track makes the rhythm pop and really propels the song. Then I sang three
straight through takes to be pieced into a vocal without the disgusting parts. Mike
and I went out for lunch and by the time we got back Mark (also a phenomenal
musician) had recorded the bass which I was not expecting (and is excellent) and
added a back beat on a floor tom. It was so incredible to hear that for the
first time. Then Mike recorded three tracks on his electric blue Strat (with
Clapton electronics = cool) and he and Mark worked through the editing of the
all the instrument tracks. After that Mike took over the controls and he and I
crafted the vocal, selecting the best of the three takes by phrase.
Mark made the master and we listened to it on
Mike’s car stereo, the ultimate sound test, and after ten hours we had the
finished version you hear in the attached link. It was extremely satisfying.
Because we had listened to it piece by piece all day long I told myself I would
wait awhile to listen to it on the two-hour drive home. That lasted about three
minutes and I played it the whole way. It took me about three years to stop
listening to it at least once a week.
I wrote Mike not long after, “Played the song for
my wife and she really liked it (surprise!), brought tears to my eyes. Then we
went to my daughter’s for Fathers Day [the whole family was there]. I put the
CD on their player and they were all blown away, especially our sons-in-law.
They let it play on repeat for about half an hour and they want copies. I was
playing the song for our older two grand kids last week and our three yr old
grandson was dancing up a storm, kinda like Elaine on Seinfeld… he gets it,
man.”
It was cool and still is.
