Songwriting is an unusual way for us to communicate with other human beings. If you were to write songs, what would you write about?
We are all familiar with listening to songs. We hear them on the radio, in movies or TV shows, on the Internet, and so on. We sing them to each other, and we might even sing in the shower, because the acoustics are so good!
And yet, despite being familiar with music, only a very few have much skill and experience in writing songs. The act of creating lyrics and music together to form a memorable, catchy tune is not easy, and it takes time and practice.
Related: Listen to an episode of the Intellectual Roundtable Podcast, where Lee and Michael discuss a related question: ‘What does your favorite music say about you?’ We also discuss a bonus question as well, ‘Where does authority come from?’
Most communication is verbal, of course, although we also communicate non-verbally as well. Music, however, remains a unique way to communicate with our fellow humans. There is something special about music and how we react to hearing it. It can tap directly into our emotions in a way that everyday speech might not be able to easily do.
With that in mind, imagine for a moment that you are a songwriter. What, then, would you write about? Many songs deal with love, although there is no shortage of other topics as well.
What would you write songs about?
Related questions: Why does music evoke emotion? How does creative expression help us to know ourselves better? Music: Make or listen? Where do ideas come from?
While it’s very meta, I would write a song about the power of music. The song would include at least four verses and a chorus. I’d write it in the first person.
The first verse would recount a time when I was feeling particularly low. Temporarily depressed and anxious, I felt disconnected from my best self. I’d note that this isolated feeling kept me from connecting with the more positive feelings, friends and those I love, and humanity in general.
I’d skip the chorus until after the second verse, which would address my isolation from my best–or at least better–self. Trapped inside a nearly transparent box, I could not reach out toward simpler pleasures, joy, and belonging. The disconnect I’d at least perceive as both emotional and physical.
The chorus would have me hear some song like Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” The background music would likely sample the song’s tune and a short use of lyrics. The first chorus would have a slight differentiation from the following ones because I was still feeling down and isolated. The words and tone (and perhaps, volume) convey a yearning for a better me. I’d sing something about my desire to experience the high that only a good song could.
The third verse immediately notes that I heard the music in the background. The box I was in was falling apart. I could see friends and loved ones just out of reach. I’d stretch and stretch and stretch. The verse would end with my hand touching my wife’s.
The next chorus would change in tune. Instead of yearning, I’d feel the high that only music (and a good workout) can bring. The tone and volume contribute to an uplifting feeling.
The last verse puts me outside the box, which I can still see, but it’s floating away. The group of friends and loved ones grows until it includes people I have not yet formed a connection with. Images of a concert, a protest, and a massive party would show me participating and feeling at one with everyone else. Music united us!
End with the chorus.