First, better, or different

There is a great quote from Loretta Lynn which basically said that, in order to succeed wildly in Nashville (or anywhere for that matter) that one needs to be “first, better, or different.”

One of the big ideas Adam and I had for the weekend was to write together. We’ve been doing this on and off for years. While Adam would not characterize himself a songwriter, he’s been listening to country music long enough (28 years) to know the difference between something not good, something good, and something great. We wrote some interesting things together years ago… in fact, my first big trip to Nashville was a direct result of Adam’s repeated absence from co-writing sessions… I got pissed off enough that I needed to leave Athens for a few days. That trip was long enough that some people thought I had actually moved.

For the record, Adam also brings something else to the table in that he dates a lot, has a girlfriend, and in fact probably rarely spends a night alone. That's a welcome perspective around here. No pity, just fact (Leslie!).

We got started on Friday night, to little avail. We got pretty serious about it again on Saturday night, and actually came up with something interesting that I don’t know that I had heard before. By the time 5:00 am had rolled around, my writing chops were somewhere in the bottom of a bottle of JD. I woke up, knowing that Adam intended to head home fairly soon that day, to the sound of his continuing to debate lines. Never the one to turn down a qualified and knowledgeable co-write, I fought through the morning doldrums to the point where I was ready to debate lines with him. We finally got to the point at which I was content enough with the tune to put it on a disc. For those of you who don’t know, I decided some time back not to spend $700 a piece on demos, but rather to sink about $3500 into a home studio, because I knew I could do what the studios in town can do in the comfort of my own home… and usually be damn happier with the results than those of the alternative.

What started as a “quick demo” that should have taken 45 minutes (at the very most) turned into a full-on 12-hour home session. For the record, sessions are normally three hours, but we re-wrote and re-wrote, and messed with the recording, and aimed a little higher than the washed-up producer on Demonbreun who only wants your money. He stayed in Nashville one more night to finish the demo, and we did fine.

What was really cool throughout the process, though, was remembering that quote. I’m definitely not first. So I tried to make sure I was driving our writing in a “better,” or “different” direction throughout the course of both the writing and the production.

Truth be told, most of the lines were Adam’s. My job was to say “no.” I said “no” enough, that Adam dug a little harder on lines, and I wrapped them up. And eventually we wound up with something that made both of us rather uncomfortable. Which is good.

One hard thing to remember when you’re writing, is that if what you are writing sounds like the stuff that’s already on the radio, then you are two years behind. There were little awkwardnesses - moments where it felt like there should be lyrics and weren’t, asymmetries, rhymes where we didn’t expect them to be, and ways of saying the only thing country music ever says that I hadn’t heard before.

In a way, this was just a microcosm for the whole “learning who you are” bit that I have been sick of hearing about since watching Mister Rogers as a child. Maybe it isn’t so much who you are as much as it is what part of what you have to offer that might be different enough to be right on the money. I have been learning to appreciate my own differences – all of those little things that I bring that it seems no one else does, whether it be in teaching, writing, simply being around, or whatever it is I happen to be doing.

And after listening to the tune for a day and a half… yeah, it sounds like something that could be on the radio, but currently isn’t. I intend to keep chasing those strange things… those moments or components that are awkward, and see where they lead. I think that probably applies no more to writing than anything else.

It feels like a matter of time right now, and in many ways I am made of that these days. But I don't see the point in waiting around to do the same old thing that everyone else is doing.