I was asked to teach a songwriter’s workshop during a festival I recently played and although I was initially apprehensive, I was relieved to find how long-winded I became when I spoke on the subject. By no means do I claim to be the authority on songwriting; however, over the years I have accumulated a number of tips, tricks and unorthodox ticks that makes my process a bit more calculated.

Below is an outline of my discussion with the workshop audience — I think it will give you some things to think about as you approach your future songs. Good luck.

1.) KEEP A JOURNAL and/or WRITING BOOK

EXAMPLE: Many times I’ve stumbled upon a line or a word that made no sense when it was written; however, a year later, within the new context of my life, it made all the sense in the world. Whistle Stop, for example, was simply a cool word that I wrote down in my journal and it was a full year before it ever made sense.

When I first heard the word, I tried and tried to write a song but nothing in my vault of life experiences would support the theme. HOWEVER, a year later when I read that phrase in my journal, my brain immediately snapped into focus because of a current circumstance: my great friend had recently lost his mother. Even though Whistle Stop meant nothing to me a year prior, in that moment it screamed “life is a train … and since you never know when the next whistle stop will be, don’t whisper softly the things that you want loudly to be.” This delayed inspiration was a result of keeping a journal and re-visiting it often with a fresh perspective.

2A.) IF YOU’RE STRUGGLING FOR IDEAS, USE “A TECHNIQUE FOR PRODUCING IDEAS”

I studied advertising in college but because I knew songwriting was my call, every time I heard the word advertising, I would subliminally substitute it with songwriting. That said, I read a book called “A Technique for Producing Ideas” and even though it was about scheming ads, here is how it applies to the craft of songwriting.

Amazingly enough, upon reading this book, I realized the steps it described was how my brain was already working. It’s a 4 step process that is more natural than you might think:

STEP ONE – Gather Information
The goal here is to find a word or an idea (aka Whistle Stop) and collect every scrap of information that could support it. Collect nouns, read research papers, use wikipedia, interview people, etc.

STEP TWO – Grind and Explore
This step involves taking all of the raw information that you’ve gathered in step one and simply grinding it into the ground. Yes, stretch it, molest it and attempt to connect all of the dots while exploring all of the possible combinations. In this incubation period, you may not have the major break through; however, the goal is to leave no stone unturned and become overly acquainted with your information — to the point of exhaustion.

STEP 3 – Move On
It may be hard to do at times but step three suggests to simply walk away from the train wreck of thoughts in your head. Move on to the next project or song and clear your head. The argument here is that once you’ve collected all of your information and ground it into the ground, even though you’ve walked away from it consciencely, your sub-conscience has not forgotten about the task. While your conscience is away, your sub-conscience will play.

STEP 4 – Revisit with a New Perspective
Once you’ve completed the word jumble of steps one and two and then walked away for a time, come back with a fresh head and revisit the material. Again, even though you aren’t aware of it, your sub-conscience has been connecting dots without you even knowing it. You will find that upon your return, the idea has matured and your words will fall with much more precision.

NOTE: Even though I claim that I rarely write a song in one sitting, this process is the caveat. I have certainly schemed and schemed, walked away for a few months then returned to write the song in one sitting.

2B.) IF YOU ALREADY HAVE A SONG IDEA

If you’re lucky enough to already have a song title, theme or idea, here are a few very basic ideas that will help them reach their full potential.

3.) LISTEN TO THE SONG BEFORE IT’S WRITTEN

Most of my songs start with a chord progression on the guitar or piano and then I retrofit words afterward to fill the spaces. To me, fitting words into music is much easier than the alternative.

It may sound odd but when I have my chord progression established, I sit in my room, guitar in hand and play through the song about 10 times — filling the space with ad lib, mumbles, oooohs, aaaaahs, random lyric and whatever else decides to come out. I find that keeping an open mind and simply letting the sounds flow can be VERY telling.

What you’ll find is certain vowels poking up in the same place each time. You’ll find certain lines beginning with the same alliteration each time. You’ll find that amongst the chaos, there are constants. Embrace those constants and listen to them as if it’s the song revealing itself to you piece by piece.

After I’ve made a fool out of myself a dozen or so times and noted the revelations, I plot out the constants in a sort of road map and then back-fill the other information. It’s somewhat difficult to explain but when you know your anchor points, the rest of the content is immediately less random. If I know my second line wants to end with an “eeee” sound and the third line wants to start with a “B” alliteration, rather than pulling random thoughts from the air, the thought process is now: “What line can I think of that ends with an “eeee” rhyme while introducing a “B” alliteration?”

This step takes some confidence; however, I guarantee if you open your mind and let the unwritten song flow through you, you’ll find that it speaks to you — ultimately revealing little pieces of itself. By listening to the promptings, your song will assume a more natural feel because nothing was forced or contrived — on the contrary, it’s meant to be.

4.) LITTLE THINGS THAT WORK IN BIG WAYS

5.) GENERAL RULES, DOS, DON’TS, TOOLS, ETC

Somewhere this Spring I lost most of my musical confidence and began to ask myself the question: What the hell am I doing? After much deliberation, sleepless nights and internal battles, I decided that the reason I’m grinding out this phantom dream is the fact that music is quite simply My Love that I couldn’t quit if I tried.

For all of those struggling musicians out there, I just wrote this song (and humbly recorded it at home) to remind us why we do what we do. Enjoy.

MY LOVE, MY LOVE
by tyler stenson © 2010

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Like a Rodeo Clown, the blood and bruise are part of the call.
But still, damn you music, you’ve got me up against a wall.
Some days I’m a Lion and some days my spirits crawl
Across the floor, to you who started it all:

My love.

It’s a head-game honey. It’s easy to believe
That I’m a foolish fish inside this starving sea
That might swallow me whole (or give me just what I need).
It’s all or nothing because nothing is in between.

My love, my love,
Don’t count me out just yet
Cause my day will come.

Oh, damn you music!
You crawled inside my bed
And if I walked away, you’d just do the same to my head,
And your pedal steel would haunt me like the ghost
Of a melody that a deaf man misses most.

My love, my love
Don’t count me out just yet
Cause my day will come.
This I know,
Because there’s a flower buried in my chest
That continues to grow.
My love, my love
Don’t count me out just yet
Cause my day will come.

Happy 4th of July everyone! This song, from day one, has always made me laugh like no other — especially now that I’m living in Nashville it rings all too true. Enjoy your holiday weekend and always remember: Freedom isn’t free — No, there’s a hefty F’n fee.

FREEDOM ISN’T FREE
Team America

What would you do
If you were asked to give up your dreams for freedom?
What would you do
If asked to make the ultimate sacrifice?

Would you think about all them people
Who gave up everything they had.
Would you think about all them War Vets
And would you start to feel bad?

Freedom isn’t free
It costs folks like you and me
And if we don’t all chip in
We’ll never pay that bill.
Freedom isn’t free
No, there’s a hefty fuckin’ fee.
And if you don’t throw in your buck ‘o five
Who will?

What would you do
If someone told you to fight for freedom.
Would you answer the call
Or run away like a little pussy
‘Cause the only reason that you’re here.
Is ’cause folks died for you in the past
So maybe now it’s your turn
To die kicking some ass

Freedom isn’t free
It costs folks like you and me
And if we don’t all chip in
We’ll never pay that bill
Freedom isn’t free
Now there’s a have to hook’in fee
And if you don’t throw in your buck ‘o five
Who will?

You don’t throw in your buck ‘o five. Who will?
Oooh buck ‘o five
Freedom costs a buck ‘o five

I’m currently writing a song that will be the last track on my upcoming album Long Before the Wheel — it’s called We Grow. This song has been a couple years in the making and while it has been a thrill to write, it has also been one of my biggest challenges to date because of the specific rules I set:

Each line of each chorus is a different metaphor for growth … 14 in all. As if simply coming up with that many metaphors wasn’t difficult enough, the real trick is that they must all rhyme with “ooooo” while still communicating the idea of growth.

I’ll admit, I’m still writing the song and trying to scheme some lines that may or may not replace what I already have. That said, here are some of the metaphors I’ve penned for We Grow and I’d be open to any fresh ideas. Enjoy!

WE’RE ENTITLED TO CHANGE, BECAUSE WE GROW…

- Like blown up balloons.
- Like the flare at the end of a spoon.
- Like one note becoming a tune.
- Like city lights in the darkening blue.
- Like One into Two.
- Like the eleventh hour turning to noon.
- Like May slow fading into June.
- Like a grownup in their childhood room.
- Like a high tide caused by that moon.
- Like a flower knowing spring is coming soon.
- Like wings inside a cacoon.
- Like anything else destined to bloom.
- Like our faith in the things we know to be true.
- Like courage found in the wine and the booze.
- Like the hope of a castaway as land comes into view.
- Like the fear of a damned man meeting his doom.
- Like Jesus rising up from his tomb.
- Like a child in the warmth of the womb.

In September of 2009, the world lost a true talent — Scotland Barr. He was a singer-songwriter and wordsmith and someone I respected deeply.

In November of 2009, tragedy struck once again and took the life of my peer — Kipp Crawford in a freak biking accident. He was a drummer in Portland in which I’ve shared many stages and beers and laughs.

Though I was never extremely close to either, their lives impacted mine greatly. I’m different because of their lives and their deaths. Both had a story to tell and both were taken long before their time.

This song is my humble tribute to these fine men and musicians — may all your fields be songs and daffodils.

Note: I hate to admit it, but in the video below, I had just written this song and therefore got the first line wrong. It should be “Who was September” … the final recording on my upcoming EP will reflect the correct lyrics and date.

DAFFODILS
by tyler stenson © 2010

Who was September
To decide it was time
To pull your pen from the page
That drew out your line
Since 1965?
-Long before your time.

May your fields be pure gold
And yellow like the loveliest sun.
May we hear your bones
Singing at the top of their lungs.
May all your fields be songs and daffodils.

Oh, then November
Would not be outdone
And dimmed that bright old smile
From an Ashland Son
That burned since ’78
-Then all at once faded away.

May your fields be pure gold
And yellow like the loveliest sun.
May we hear your bones
Sounding out the beat of a drum.
May all your fields be songs and daffodils.

I for one, hope you found your Sun Years
And finally laid your eyes on some Spanish Dust.
Your words fill up our Paper Dixie Cups,
In a cheers to you,
One of the few who knew love.

So, may all your fields be pure gold
And yellow like the loveliest sun.
May we hear your bones
Singing at the top of their lungs.
May all your fields be songs and daffodils.

May all your fields be songs and daffodils.

Sunday was an absolute writing tear for me — in my last post I commented that songs can take me years to write, which is true, but there are always exceptions to the rule. As the Crow Flies and Babysitting the Cowboy were both written in one sitting and so was my newest. Introducing, what is tentatively titled, Best Laid Plans.

I got the idea a month ago at my nephews funeral when my Father spoke the words That which might have been, can yet still be. That sentence hit me hard and sent my wheels turning.

I’ve already written my sad song about the event; therefore, in the wake of the two nautical books that I’ve just finished and in the spirit of my 2010 goal to be more upbeat, I penned this motivational song. When you experience an unexpected shift, don’t let it shake you, greatness can still be achieved.

I dedicate this song to my Father … for the great one-liner that sparked this entire song.

BEST LAID PLANS
by tyler stenson © 2010

Best laid plans fail
And wrong winds catch sails
But that don’t mean you lay down
And lose your boat to the treacherous sea.
No, you must believe that
That which might have been, can yet still be.

I’ve seen a beautiful sky turn gray
As I stood there watching weather change-
That don’t mean the Sun is long-gone
And our Hope should up and leave.
No, you must believe that
That which might have been, can yet still be.

The greatest place ever known fell down.
It was the Fall of Rome-
But have you seen the Vatican and Coliseum
Under a summer’s gleam?
(I have, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen)
So I’m telling you,
That which might have been, can yet still be.

Best laid plans fail
And wrong winds catch sails
But that don’t mean you lay down
And lose your boat to the treacherous sea.
No, you must believe that
That which might have been, can yet still be.

I’ve always said that my songs take a while to write … longer than most. I’m a firm believer in letting songs write themselves and reach maturity without being forced. With that, it’s no surprise that I finished writing a song TODAY that I started on November 11, 2007. Introducing The Ramblin Kind.

Though the lyrics are pretty self-explanatory, the abbreviated inside scoop is that, in my life, I’ve done the leaving and I’ve been left behind. When I started writing this song in 2007, it was meant to be apologetic: Sorry Darlin, you got caught up with The Ramblin Kind. Ironically, not much later, I got caught up with a rambler myself and therefore the sentiment of the song morphed in perspective.

Years later, after the dust has settled on both sides, I now realize, at one point or another, we’re all part of the infamous Ramblin’ Kind. Enjoy the new lyrics.

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THE RAMBLIN KIND
by tyler stenson © 2010

Ain’t it like the wind to never want to stay;
Something finally touches down
And all at once a gust comes and takes it away.
That old wind is here- then it’s gone.
That old wind is hell-bent on moving on.

So, let’s just say She knows how to go away;
How to keep from standing still
Just like a river, fast cars, birds and trains.
Let’s just say She’s sailing as we speak.
Let’s just say She’s fading by degrees.

Showing tell-tale signs that She’s alive,
Everybody is leaving something sometime.
Always leaving or being left behind,
We’re infamously the Ramblin Kind.

Some would say I roam because I’m made of stone
But they don’t know what I know-
I know once you’re in my heart, there’s no getting out.
Some would say I’m planted in the ground.
Some would say I’m impossible to pin down.

Showing tell-tale signs that I’m alive,
Everybody is leaving something sometime.
Always leaving or being left behind,
We’re infamously the Ramblin Kind.

It’s a lonely road I’m speaking of
And lonely lyrics rolling off of my tongue.
With a tell-tale truth in between the lines:
Everybody is leaving something sometime.

Always leaving or being left behind,
We’re infamously the Ramblin Kind.

Nashville had enjoyed a month of 80 degree blue skies until that Thursday when I received the phone call saying my nephew was not expected to make it through the night. I’m not making this up in the least — at that very moment it began to rain.

The rest of the weekend was clouded with epic thunderstorms that seemed all too fitting for the stormy events happening a few states away. It was an eerie weekend; my first Southern thunderstorm bloomed in time with my first intimate bout with death.

On the day I heard those words, I penned a few lines about the weather coinciding with the news on the telephone. I wrote a bit about it being a chalkboard gray kind of day that he was too good for anyway. On Saturday, when it was final, I laid in bed for a good part of the day and noted that the thunder sounded like what must have been my sister’s heart. There was a sadness in the roll. It was all very fitting and surreal and too perfect of a storm.

When I returned from the funeral in Utah, I was greeted in Tennessee by the continuing rain and watched Nashville flood in front of my eyes. It was the talk of the town and noted nationally but I couldn’t bring myself to care — not about this flood.

There is room for little space in our hearts and in our heads and even though my city was sinking, selfishly, I had a different storm to suffer.

I’ve been asked if I have plans to write a “flood song” for the devastation that struck that week and my answer is, in a way, I already have. My variation of history. This is my song about the flooding in the days surrounding The Day.

PS. The attached recording is a quick scratch track … I swear I’ll do it some justice someday.

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LITTLE LIFE
The rain spotted the pavement
On the day you went away
And fell in time with the news on the telephone.
It reminded me of my childhood
On an April shower day
And smelled like the kind you’ll never know.

So long Little Life;
It’s raining outside-
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Life;
Since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you’d want to miss anyway.

The thunder bloomed all afternoon
In the air around my bed
And I could hear a sadness in the roll.
It sounded like the tolling bells
Of a breaking Mother’s heart
Holding on to a Little Life letting go.

So long Little Life;
It’s raining outside-
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Life;
Since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you’d want to miss anyway.

I’ve heard the lives that leave the earth
Become Heaven’s gain
And wait to be joined on another day.

So long Little Life;
It’s raining outside-
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Life;
Since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you’d want to miss anyway.

Little Life I’ll see you another day.

In February I received a very kind write-up in The West Linn Tidings — my hometown’s weekly newspaper. Centered around the release of my new album Bittersweet Parade, writer Nicole DeCosta documented the evening of my release party in grand fashion.

FULL ARTICLE:

STENSON’S HOMECOMING is BITTERSWEET
West Linn Tidings – February 4, 2010 – Nicole Decosta

West Linn High School graduate Tyler Stenson released a CD this month titled Bittersweet Parade and features 11 songs. He recently played at the Crystal Ballroom.

Dimmed lights revealed a packed room of preppy-dressed twentysomethings facing a corner stage. And when Tyler Stenson – with his guitar and dressed in his signature blue jeans – strummed his first chord, the chattering fell silent. Some hushed listeners closed their eyes as Stenson’s biographical lyrics transported them into his head for an hour.

On Jan. 21, singer/songwriter Stenson released his latest album Bittersweet Parade to a packed house of friends, family and some that found his music online and wandered over to see what the parade was outside Lola’s Room beneath the Crystal Ballroom in Portland.

“It’s my birthday and he’s hot,” said Portland resident Anne Kelton, who hadn’t heard the West Linn graduate’s music live before the event.

The line snaking onto West Burnside Street brought many passerby to ask “who’s playing?”

Stenson – voted several times as Portland’s Songwriter of the Year – moved from Portland to Nashville, Tenn. In October to “take his talent to a bigger stage,” as his web site states. His well-received homecoming introduced attendees to Bittersweet Parade, with the same mellow, straightforward poetry set to sounds as his previous release See That Gleam.

On this special night, Stenson’s soft vocals floated through the room with help from his live band. The ambiance was gentle, honest and a year in the making.

“The band is super-dynamic. He’s got great vocals. It’s an honor to see him in Portland,” said Portland resident Maggie Brown whose boyfriend, Jake Oken-Berg, played piano on the CD.

Stenson isn’t just a musician, but a songwriter – he doesn’t just write words that sound cool with music, he unleashes his soul. His passion for the craft can make for sleepless nights, as he documents on his favorite song the album titled I Get No Sleep, inspired by a time when he lived and worked in Portland near a noisy train track.

“I get no sleep with these trains in my head / As far as I can see, I’ve got tracks running down both sides / It started as a steady hum / Became a war-time drum / And eventually North and Southbound collide.”

As Stenson introduces new audiences across the country to his sound, he savors his unique songwriting and isn’t afraid to adapt to his new surroundings, as reminded on Welcome the Change.

“I’m in love with the stars because I envy how they hang / As constant constellations in an ever-changing space / I’ve been alive for one instant and I can already feel me fade / Unlike them, I’ve begun to blend like one color against the same / And that ain’t me.”

For more information and to purchase the album visit www.tylerstenson.com. To watch videos with Stenson explaining the songwriting process for each song on the album visit http://www.youtube.com/user/landerband.

As of today, I have officially finished a brand new song called Clover. Though I schemed it roughly 18 months ago, independently of St Patrick’s Day, it is a lovely coincidence that I should finish it just in time for the holiday.

CLOVER
by tyler stenson © 2010

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I’m a man of chance; not much for fate
And my superstitions are hard to break.
But, if lucky see, then lucky do,
Then Clover I’ll be lucky to find you.

I’ve had a pocket-pair with an Ace up my sleeve
At an all-in table that boasted one King.
But my luck has been known to wear walking shoes,
So Clover I’ll be lucky to find you.

Clover I’ll be lucky
To ever find something like you.
Please, Clover make me lucky.

All the colors curl inside a rainbow
With a soft descent into the pot of gold
But those fortunes go just as quick as they grew
So, Clover I’ll be lucky to find you.

In all the world there’s a billion blades
In the grass on the ground that all look the same.
I’ve combed them over – I’ve sifted through
And Clover I’ll be lucky to find you.

Clover I’ll be lucky
To ever find something
So small and so lovely.
Yes, Clover I’ll be lucky if I ever find you.
Please, Clover make me lucky.

NOTE: This recording was done on my laptop with limited professional equipment, time and instrumental know-how on my part. All things considered, I’m pretty proud of it; however, it’s definitely just a “demo” until I get the chance to work with some professionals on my next studio album. Until then, I’m really excited about the song’s content and hope you enjoy.