There are days when chord progressions and melodies happen on their own, and my ear guides me to where I want to go. There are also days where I can’t figure anything out except how to get frustrated at my creation and learning process. (Though, those are usually when I’m trying to transcribe gospel or jazz chords.) Today, I reached back into my archives and re-arranged a song into something new. Nostalgia can be healthy, remember? It can also be very useful when you’ve got never-used ideas waiting in the attic of your creativity.
There are days when lyrics flow like wine, and days when they flow like mud. Wine flowed today. And that’s not to say that my writing is so profound that it’s like a finely-aged vintage. I was in the zone. No lines were forced to fit. The flow was smooth, thoughts made sense, word play engaged. I’m still working bringing those punchlines, but I think the coherence and the cohesion are there.
If you’ve been following along my umpteenth attempt at a successful 365, you’ll know that I’m playing a show this Saturday at The Central in Toronto. I’ve got my covers down (though I might add another) and that’s about it. By the end of tonight, I should have a completely new original to put out into the universe. It’s a risky one, but I’m opening up. Maybe I’m finally strong enough. Maybe I’m foolish. Maybe I watch too much “How I Met Your Mother” and this could be me “Tedding” it up. (Translation for my fellow “Community” fans = doing this song may Britta things.) But I’m letting my wine flow. Forget letting it decant. This new me and this new year is about pushing forward, embracing changes, and taking risks. If this changes everything, I’ll ride along.
Of course, it may not. It is just a song, after all. It’s not even recorded, so what you think you heard may not be what you actually experienced. You’d have to ask me to know. (And, in turn, I’d have to be willing — read: drunk — to let you know.) I’ve said before that it’s a message, and while I’d prefer to deliver it in private, in person, music is my heart. I’m keeping it open.
I’m off to a goodbye-party at The Duke of Kent. A close friend who I’ve only seen very sparsely since our time at school together is moving to the other side of the world for a while. How she figured out the ability to do that is something that I am inspired by and also envy. There’s courage there. I want it.
This is a puppy. Be distracted and squeal like a little girl already.