Raymond on How not to write a song for Shania Twain
A few years ago, I was asked to provide some material for an up-and-coming young female country singer. A friend in the business who was familiar with my writing style (I was going to use the phrase ‘writing prowess’ there, but that would have been a bit of an exaggeration) thought that I might have some songs which -given the right treatment- could have worked for this particular vocalist.
My name was passed to the singer’s manager, who also happened to be her mother. After a perfunctory phone call (“I’ve been told you write songs. We’re looking for songs”), an appointment was made for us to meet. I packed my guitar and notebook and drove out to a big house in the country, about a mile and half from the middle of nowhere.
(the rest of this article will hopefully follow below)
Upon my arrival, it was made clear that the singer’s mum /manager (let’s call her The Mumager) was the director of operations. I was led into a room that could have passed for a middle-sized function suite -complete with its own stage- and it was explained that I would be auditioning my songs to her before she decided if the enterprise was to proceed beyond first base. I’m being polite here when I say that she was not the kind of person who liked to waste time with idle chit chat. Inasmuch as I had expected anything, I thought that I would at least have met the singer before introducing her to the songs which, in my head at least, had ‘surprise country smash’ written all over them, but the daughter was -as yet- nowhere to be seen. The Mumager, with a small hand gesture, invited me to take the stage and perform. She positioned herself on a chair a few feet from the raised platform and, from that distance, looked like the smallest and possibly the toughest audience I would ever have to play to. There was no point in trying to crack a joke to ease the tension, because the meagre conversational scraps of our opening exchanges had made it obvious that my sense of humour and hers had about as much in common as scrap metal and scrambled eggs.
Mindful of that ever-useful mnemonic beloved of all performers (TNT MAFFOY – ‘Try Not To Make a Fucking Fool of Yourself’), I had come prepared with a number of possible contenders for the surprise country hit of the year. I assumed that The Mumager’s idea of country music would have been based on songs she had heard played by proper country musicians. As I’ve stated in some previous articles, I’m not a particularly gifted musician, let alone a gifted country musician. My playing style, such as it is, could best be described as ‘tipsy welterweight’; I don’t really do finesse and, rather than tease a melody out of a guitar or piano, I’m more naturally equipped to bludgeon the instrument with some ham-fisted chords. Accordingly, I figured that each song would require an eloquent preamble; rather than let The Mumager judge my songs on what she was about to hear, I needed her to judge them on what I imagined they could be, given a bit of investment and finesse. Before essaying the first strum on each song, I tried to explain how a recorded version might sound, given the proper backing. Imagine, if you will, Woody Allen trying to talk his way out of being whacked by one of Tony Soprano’s henchmen; that is more or less how my song pitches were delivered.
“This one could turn out to be a bit like Shania Twain, if we arrange it properly” I heard myself saying. Somewhere in the background, a clock ticked. Slowly.
There was little to glean from The Mumager’s inscrutable expression, although as the audition went on, I began to suspect that my preambles were going down about as well an attempt to get her to buy into a time-share in a beaten-up caravan in Arbroath. I introduced another song. “This one would sound a bit country if we added some pedal steel” I said, probably sounding a bit feeble. Or, now that I think about it, actually sounding feeble. In my experience, one of the biggest mistakes a songwriter can make is to let people hear something that isn’t finished; where the songwriter can hear the glorious possibilities of embellishment, imaginings of beautiful harmonies, echoes of eloquent guitars, the layperson just hears whatever is placed in front of them.
As I ran through my various would-be country classics, The Mumager said nothing, although she did nod her head occasionally. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but, given her almost complete lack of chat, facial expression or interpretable body language, I chose to take any occasional nod as a positive sign; perhaps, inside, she was all cartwheels, laughter and pure country joy.
Five songs (and five rather laboured explanations) later, the audition was over. The Mumager said “We’ll do number three”. And that was it; the first part of our business had been conducted, leaving me glad that the pool of sweat on the stage beneath me had not been deposited in vain.
The daughter was called through from the west wing and we were finally introduced. I played the song for her and –thankfully- she seemed to like it. We ran through it a few times until we found the right key for her and, before I left, I gave her a handwritten copy of the lyric to practise with. A few weeks later, we were in the studio recording a decent version of the song but, sadly, it didn’t turn out to be a surprise country hit; this, I realise, has been a recurring theme in my musical career.
Of the five songs I pitched that night, one had seemed to me like a stand-out candidate (and it wasn’t number three). I had the feeling at the time that they would (and should) have picked song number four: ‘Read my Lips’.
Like the vast majority of songs that I write, this had started with some chords on a guitar or piano, before I improvised a vocal melody over the top. Only after that initial ‘brainstorming’ phase would I have considered a subject matter, a title and some words to suit the mood that had been set by the basic components I had already put in place. As I played around with the chord sequence and melody, I had not only pictured someone like Shania Twain singing it, I also had the distinct feeling that it would somehow have suited a lyric with a universal theme. With, however, no pressing need to finish it, the song was filed away in my burgeoning ‘one-day-I-might-do-something-with-this’ file. Once I had accepted the assignment to try and write a hit for someone, it seemed like an obvious choice. I drafted, tweaked and re-drafted the lyric several times until it felt just right. I imagined a tight rocking band delivering the backing with some real torch and twang, while Shania belted out an empowering lyric along the lines of my-man-gone-done-me-wrong-so-he-can-sling-his-hook-and-I’ll-be-just-fine.
I thought that the tune was catchy and that the universal theme gave it some extra hit potential, but with my modest track record I don’t suppose many folk would see the percentage in betting on that. The Mumager was unmoved by the song (and my sales pitch), so ‘Read my Lips’ was consigned to the ‘pending’ file.
Writing a pop lyric presents a different kind of challenge and is, in some ways, harder than writing something just to please yourself (which is what I usually do).
It’s quite easy to write lyrics, but it’s rather more difficult to write good lyrics and, in my experience, even harder to write good lyrics for someone else.
A few years ago, I was in a band in which I had to write for another young female vocalist. She had a lovely voice, she looked the part and she had some pretty good ideas of her own, but her lyric-writing pace could best be described as ‘sluggish’ and I often had to push matters along in order to get new material into our set. A man in his forties composing for a woman in her twenties was not necessarily a recipe for insightful writing and, in my desire to increase the band’s productivity, I tended to steer very firmly to the lyrical middle of the road, drafting lines that were, for want of a better term, generic.
I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with generic lyrics, but –sooner or later- you’ll find that you’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name and it’ll feel good to be out of the rain; or, as is more likely, nobody will have a clue what you’re talking about. I know that for some writers, this is actually something like a state of bliss. It is often the case (for a variety of reasons) that songwriters don’t particularly wish to be understood and plenty of folk have sustained entire careers on being vague and evasive in their songs.
Perhaps one of the reasons that Coldplay –to take but one example- have sold so many albums is that, in addition to the fact that their music is relatively easy on the ear, their words are usually just vague enough to have a broad appeal.
Take the lyrics to ‘Yellow’:
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah, they were all yellow.
I came along,
I wrote a song for you,
And all the things you do,
And it was called “Yellow”.
So then I took my turn,
Oh what a thing to have done,
And it was all yellow.
Your skin Oh yeah your skin and bones,
Turn into something beautiful,
You know, You know I love you so,
You know I love you so.
What does that even mean? I’d suggest that the answer is ‘nothing’; or maybe it’s everything. These lyrics are so vague that any notion of meaning is conferred entirely by the listener. ‘Yellow’ can mean whatever you want it to mean, which in pop music terms, probably makes it a good (that is, commercially appealing) lyric.
Take, by way of contrast, Joni Mitchell’s ‘Song for Sharon’. Here’s the opening few lines:
I went to Staten Island, Sharon.
To buy myself a mandolin
And I saw the long white dress of love
On a storefront mannequin
Big boat chuggin’ back with a belly full of cars…
All for something lacy
Some girl’s going to see that dress
And crave that day like crazy
In addition to delineating a very personal and perceptive observation, these lines prepare the listener for the complex subject matter of the song. In exploring the idea of the path not taken, ‘Song for Sharon’ compares Joni Mitchell’s life -that of a successful musician- with that of a friend who has “a husband, a family and a farm”.
Mitchell acknowledges the powerful attraction of that “long white dress of love” (and all that it implies) then reflects on the lifestyle choices she has made in pursuing her muse. The lyric explores the tension between, on the one hand, her need to create art and, on the other, the desire for love, constancy and security.
In the final lines, she sings:
But you still have your music
And I’ve still got my eyes on the land and the sky
You sing for your friends and your family
I’ll walk green pastures by and by
This is open to interpretation, but not in the same way that ‘Yellow’ is open to interpretation. Where ‘Yellow’ trusts the imagination of the listener to sprinkle some fairy dust over its prosaic phrasing, ‘Song for Sharon’ probes the complexity of big life choices. In laying out the consequences, regrets and rewards of opting for the life of a musical free spirit and rejecting the role of wife and mother, Mitchell sketches her ambivalence so skilfully that, by the end the song, we’re not really sure which woman has got the best deal.
There is no right way or wrong way to compose a lyric, but ‘Song for Sharon’ is clearly the work of a poet, while ‘Yellow’ could easily have been written by someone employed to churn out greeting cards for Walmart. I’d love to sit at Joni’s end of the song-writing table, but it’s a very long table and the reality is that I’m way down at the other end, using the wrong cutlery, knocking over the condiments and trying not to slurp my soup. But at least the songs on my album will make a series of statements that I’ll be reasonably happy to make. And, although ‘Read my Lips’ may have been written with the specific aim of having a hit by putting words into someone else’s mouth, it’s still something that I’m proud of. If I hadn’t had to audition this song, I might never have gotten around to finishing it. The discipline of pulling it all together, the imagining of Shania Twain performing it, improved me as a writer.
The Mumager might not have cared much for my material, but her daughter is now doing very well for herself on the Irish country circuit; by the sounds of it, she wanted something closer to old-school country than I could provide. My recorded version of the song is very close to what I had in mind when I wrote it. The band (Les, Fraser and Peter) absolutely nailed the arrangement, with Peter’s country-tinged guitar, in particular, bang on the money for the mood I wanted to create.
On the subject of the album, work is now moving into the closing stages. I’ve recorded around 50 pieces of music and they currently sit in three distinct piles, each of which will hopefully see the light of day pretty soon. More will be revealed shortly, but -just to be on the safe side- I have left instructions in my will that, in the event of my sudden death, the entire body of work should be performed at Hampden Park with a 60-piece orchestra, a male voice choir and Shania Twain on lead vocals.
And, if we can swing it with her management, I’d like her to be dressed as Catwoman.
Very interesting. I couldn’t write a song at gunpoint and I’m envious of people who can. Like any of the creative industries, I’m sure there’s a hefty amount of luck in what becomes a hit.
Keep us posted on your album progress.
For some reason, that quote from Joni Mitchell’s ‘Song for Sharon’ has repeated the line: ‘On a storefront mannequin’ – I’ve asked the mods to fix that. As a dreadful pedant, it pains me to see it in print.
Anyway, here’s a link to the song I talk about in the article:
Really enjoyed reading that – thanks.
As a fellow songwriter I really enjoyed this piece Raymond. Ive never been fortunate enough to get to audition songs commercially – love to have a crack at that.
Get that album finished !
Great piece, Raymond. I’ve never come close to being asked to write for anyone else, and probably never will, so it’s fascinating to hear about the process. Great song, too – makes me realise that even when I try for commercial, my natural inbuilt indie-schmindie roots can’t help but tie me to that particular stake. (Still, it’s my stake! I should just accept it.)
Very interesting what you say about lyrics. I’ve often heard it said of Coldplay that half their appeal is that you can yell along to the words in a stadium without being remotely troubled about their meaning. There’s certainly an odd genius to being able to formulate those sorts of mean-nothing-mean-everything phrases, but I’m with you on preferring to aspire to Joni’s end of the table. We may never get there, but as Nick Hornby once said, at least trying for wit, texture and detail is more likely to get you closer than not.
Really enjoyed that piece. Thanks for sharing it.
Really good, thanks Raymond. I took part in a songwriter workshop run by Kim Richey and Boo Hewardine, two songwriters I admire without limit. We took it in turns to play a song, and I did one I often play live and which goes down well. I ended. The other songwriters clapped loudly. Kim narrowed her eyes and said “exactly what is it you like about this song….”. I died. Don’t meet your heroes people.
That was ace. One of the best things I’ve read on here in ages. Thanks!
Great piece Raymond. I was rooting for the Mumager to secretly be Shania Twain’s talent scout until you let us all down with the truth. I can hear Elvis Costello doing a tear-ass version of “Read My Lips” as the hidden track on an Almost Blue re-issue…
Thanks for the kind comments, folks. They really are much appreciated.
And PS – thanks to the mods for fixing the issue with that Joni Mitchell quote.
I very much enjoyed reading that and listening to the song. I really know what you mean with Read My Lips – you can hear that it is a song written expressly to be a hit. It’s a lovely number but you know that a sprinkle of whatever magic dust people like Shania Twain can add would indeed turn it into a hit song.
I am fascinated by the pop song lyric and I remember that Andy McCluskey of OMD once told a presenter on Pebble Mill that the lyrics are the very last thing he comes up with and, most of the time, “anything will do”. What a waste! He’s a successful songwriter but it makes me think that he could have just nudged some songs to a higher plane with more coherent lyrics that people can identify with.
This year, the Fight Song by Rachel Platten has delivered on the generic lyric that people can identify with. My young daughters sing that with real feeling – usually when I have made a domestic decision that goes against their wishes.
Anyway, rabbiting on now, but I enjoyed that Raymond and I hope we get to hear a song called Afterword on Taylor Swift’s next one.
Fantastic piece Raymond. I really enjoyed that. I’m currently scouring the listings pages looking for young country types who may be touring Ireland to suss out the bane of your life!
I think it might be Lisa McHugh? She’s quite the star on the circuit.
I can’t possibly comment @neilo.
Good man, Raymond. Discretion personified. I note that an entirely unrelated Caledonian songbird is playing in the Nashville of Ulster (Castleblayney, Co. Monaghan) on Friday 9 October. A little part of me is intrigued; I’ve only experiencedreally Country & Irish music as a sociological experiment. It might be time for some field work.
Might be (very) disappointed. The Irish version of C&W is maudlin and trades on the fact that both traditions are rhotic, so really makes a meal of this. I grew up there and it took me decades to get over it.
As for the “Nashville of Ulster”, file that under the Algerian Messi, the New Bob Dylan, and the Irish Beatles* for perspective.
*I had to read this recently in relation to the Miami Showband massacre 40 years ago. Yeah, they could play, but they were a SHOWBAND, for fuck’s sake, you no-mark weasel excuse for a journalist.
Bravo, Raymond. Thank you for writing a great piece!
Look forward to hearing the album.
Bravo! However when I think about it your song above would be perfect for Kate Bush. Then again I think I would be perfect for Kate Bush…*sighs*
What a thoroughly enjoyable article and a cracking pop song to boot.
Thanks for taking us behind the scenes and sharing the nightmare of that meeting . Your description was hilarious. Now there’s a song that’s just crying to be written.
Your comparison between Joni and Coldplay was right on the money too.
Wonderful, I’ve never see this clip before – one of my big musical regrets never having seen Joni play live. Lacks some of the subtlety of the Hejira version but her voice sounds fabulous.
A nice piece of writing there, Raymond.
And a nice piece of songwriting, too.
Good one.
Fabulous piece of writing. You may think your lyrics sit uneasily somewhere down the far end of the table but your prose sits comfortably at the Top Table.
I will now not hear Coldplay without seeing Chris Martin poring over his next greeting card text.
Agree re comments on Read My Lips having that Elvis Country sound- title too.
Many thanks again for the kind comments, fellow Afterworders!
And thanks @kaisfatdad for posting that fantastic version of ‘Song for Sharon’.
Much as I love the subtleties of the recorded version, this live rendition manages to rock in a way that you wouldn’t think was possible. I’ve watched a few clips from that Wembley show now and it’s one of those concerts that would be on my ‘time machine’ list.
To have seen Joni in her pomp, with that backing band, must have been a sensational experience.
DuCool and I will be joining you in that time machine, if you have a few extra seats. In fact you’d probably better book a Timebus.
I got lucky with that clip. After your marvelous description of Song for Sharon I wanted to listen to it and was chuffed to find that.
By the way, Raymond. I’ve been working on some new lyrics for you. With apologies to Dr Hook!
Shania’s mother says, ‘Shania’s busy
Too busy to come to your gig’
Shania’s mother says, ‘Shania’s tryin’
To find a new style fans will dig’
Shania’s mother says, ‘Shania’s hungry
And now she wants to make it big’
And the manager says, ‘One song more. I’ve only got 3 minutes’
Please Mrs. Mumager, I just gotta talk to her
I’ll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Mumager, I just wanna sing her my song.
Sorry! I’ll get my coat!
A cracking read, as ever, Raymond. I feel you’re missing a trick, though, by pushing your wares on some wan who is “doing quite well” on the “Irish country circuit”. Why, a quick lyric flip and you’re into the real money of advertisement soundtracks. To wit:
“PG Tips, PG Tips, it’s a lovely brew”
Or
“Nothing slips past my lips sweeter than TyPhoo”
And that’s just tea.
Serious comment: I read somewhere (here?) recently that Nancy Sinatra
grabbed “These Boots Were Made For Walking” for herself because she felt the words sounded too harsh being sung by a bloke, but agreeably assertive coming from a lady. It may be that the Mumager picked song 3 over PG Tips because she thought its sentiments more befitted her lass? In the absence of any kind of verbal clues who knows?
I really like your ‘PG Tips’ lyric @sewer-robot. I think a career in advertising is yours for the taking. But such is my integrity and sensitivity as an artist and songwriter that I would only consider allowing a company to use my song in an advert if they paid me money.
You make an interesting point about what might have motivated The Mumager to pick the song she did. The song she chose was called ‘He used to want to be with me’ and was written from the point of someone who has blown a relationship through foolish behaviour; it’s a ‘loser’ kind of song. I thought she might have gone for ‘Read my Lips’, because the person singing it is very much in charge of the situation. I thought that she might have wanted her daughter to exude that kind of positivity.
@kaisfatdad – your Dr Hook parody is a work of genius. Whenever I hear that song from now on, I will be expecting to hear the words “Please Mrs Mumager …”
I enjoyed reading that. Well done Raymond.
Thanks Raymond. Well- written, funny and I loved the Joni tangent. I’m not qualified to comment with any authority but what I’d say about the song is that you need to find something that rhymes with ‘read my lips’ for the first 6 syllables of the chorus. The payoff line of ‘ read my lips, we’re through ,’ should be how the chorus ends and something else should replace the first two read my lipses.
I quite like the idea of incorporating @sewer-robot‘s idea into the song:
“PG Tips goes with chips,
read my lips … we’re through”
Now we’re talking!
Thanks for that; great writing, as ever. Like others I loved the Joni observations. (Spot on, too.)
Just catching up with this now (over in that England, with Mme. Stoke in hospital). What a great song – and what a great piece of writing.
I was just catching up too and I wanted to say how much I enjoyed “Read My Lips”.
I didn’t scroll further down than the song before I listened to it and while I was listening to it, I thought “Elvis Costello”. I also thought “The Smithereens”.
Anyway, both the song and the writing – good stuff.
Hi Raymond, a lovely piece that I have only just seen. You should feel privileged to even sit at the table no matter which end it is. Me? I am standing outside, never likely to get in. Just to have played an audition for such an acclaimed star is an accomplishment. Perhaps if her mother wasn’t the manager and you were allowed to play to her directly it might have been a whole different result.
Great story Ray – only just found it. Sorry for being weeks behind the masses!