James Lee Stanley

Got this post the other day from a friend and I thought it was worth addressing here on Datamusicata.

“Not to change the subject...but I will anyway Though this might be more a Datamusicata thing.

At work the other day we were talking about music and the writing of it and I was wondering HOW you (or anyone) writes music. I mean I know how to do notation, and I understand using words to describe something, to express feeling etc. and I understand drawing or painting something for the same effect, because those are things pretty much everyone can do even if they do it really badly, but where does music come from? HOW does a melody become?
I don't quite understand the vocabulary of it as it were. I kind of get writing a tune to go with words, but not writing the tune first.. I hope I'm being clear, and that it's not too lame a question. We just had too much time on our hands that day I guess ”

Where do melodies come from?

As a song writer with, so I’m told, a gift for melody, the question still amuses and amazes me. Here’s what I do know. I keep copious notes for the lyrics and can actually see the progression as the lyric develops, even though once the song is written, I don’t have any actual memories of writing the lyrics, only the proof in my handwriting in my notebooks.

But the melody?

I remember writing a song with Michael Smith  called Racing the Moon (which amazingly, wasn’t included in our celebrated Two Man Band Two CD on Beachwood Recordings and available at my website.)
We actually worked on the song for a couple of weeks and we had come up with what we thought was a solid melody. We finally framed the last verse lyrically so that there was a payoff, which is the way I like to write my songs. I like a melodic payoff and I like a lyric pay off; a lyric crescendo, if you will.

In any event, we finished the song and scheduled some studio time, and laid down a very solid track with Michael on bass, he and I on guitars, Dan Tinen on keyboards and a solid drum loop, which we later augmented with live percussion and high hat.

We listened to the track for a few days and then scheduled the vocal. I was singing lead on it.

As the track played in my earphones and I started singing, I felt that the melody was too subdued for the track and for the intensity of the opening lyrics.

On the spot, I simply sang a new melody, based upon the original melody, but higher and more intense. After the bridge, which was a pensive look back lyrically, I went back to the original melody and sang that for the third verse.

We all agreed that the change was dramatic and effective and we kept it.

So where did it come from?

For me, the melody is a response to a chord progression, or a response to a lyric, or when I’m playing the guitar a response to what I’m playing. I like to experiment with tones that are not normally in the chord that I am playing.

And I know that the more you write melodies, the more melodies you hear. The trick is to not write a melody (or a lyric) that has already been written. Dylan frequently takes old familiar melodies and goes up where they go down, etc. This is a good device if you are stuck for a melody.

But most of the time, the melodies simply arrive, full blown, in my head. I heard someone say that we don’t actually write songs so much as we’re just the first person to hear them.