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psdThere’s a debate among songwriters and others in the publishing world that’s been raging for decades. It’s considered settled by many, but I diverge from common currents of thinking.
The debate is about whether music people can really “hear” songs when they have so many song demos to listen to. Are they overwhelmed and unable to distinguish? Have you been in their offices and seen the stacks? They have been accused of judging by “production quality”, which, for many of us is frustrating, because, tell me true baby blue, does the snare sound really trump the lyric and the melody?
Some “pure” or naïve songwriters have hoped in vain that “Label Heads” would be able to actually hear and recognize a song’s inherent quality. But what about an unadorned little clip of a pure melody played off key. Is it possible that someone could simply hear it? What it really is? Or, if the “production quality” is not up to snatch, should the music suit be forgiven for turning off and failing to recognize the quality of the piece?
It is a failure isn’t it?
I remember when my friend Bob Wiseman produced Ron Sexmith’s first recording. It was a little bit outside, as it would be if produced by Bob. I took it to some music business people I knew, and they said, “The guy can’t sing, and it sounds like it was recorded in a garage”.
Somehow, Ron got through. Enough people, or the right person, heard Ron and recognized the quality of his songs and of Ron the performer.
Demo Quality is the key to EVERYTHING we’ve been told over and over. Have you ever stopped to think how retarded that is? In other words, they can’t tell the difference between Jameson Irish Whisky and Aqua Velva but they want us to surrender to their expertise in music?
I have to fess up that in my own “career-let”, the one and only time I was signed to a publishing deal, it was a quality demo that got me there.
So why would I insist on working with rough demos? Well, for two reasons. One comes from marketing and the other comes from the realm of pure spirit. The marketing justification can be summed up as follows: when everyone else is zigging, it’s time to zag.
Waldo Emerson said something like… “Who you are is talking so loud I can’t hear a single word you’re saying”. Well that’s me. I’ve decided to let my essence shine for whoever gets it. I’ll let people hear the roughest demos…even with words incomplete and off key singing. Then I’ll know that whoever gets it really gets it.
All this is to say that I like the rawest of the raw demos. And the clip you are about to hear, of ‘A Prayer to Ireland’ being conceived could not be rawer. It was recorded walking in ‘The Burren’, in County Clare, Ireland.
As I climbed a craggy hill I said to Ireland from within myself, “Let me know you!” I was afraid that, after years of yearning to meet Ireland up close and personal, my visit would go by in a blink and I’d miss her completely.
After my little prayer, I turned on my tape recorder and started to whistle a tune that was coming in right at that moment, in real time.
I challenge you, gentle reader. Can you recognize what a good tune is? Can you hear a tune in the roughest form? Or have you become addicted to all the little burnishings the studio provides to trick the ear? Do you think this tune would be more than itself if played into a great microphone? Or is it already its essential self?
Next on the recording we’re in a pub after an afternoon of weeping on top of a misty mountain. Well, I did most of the weeping.
Okay all right, I did all the weeping.
So, anyway, the point is I think an audience can be trusted to hear the really rough early versions, or, in this case, they can actually hear the tune being born.
Am I wrong to share such rough, unpolished gems with whoever wants to hear them anywhere anytime?
I’d like to hear your opinion on this.
And please let me know how you like the tune.
http://zerald.com/prayertoireland.mp3
