Whispering vocals

I've always been kinda hung up on authenticity and it tends to colour what music I like. I like unusual voices but I turn off if I think the style seems too forced -- like the recent procession of bands with crazy/old man vocals. There's something about singing in your normal voice that seems honest and genuine.

Of course this thinking's rigid and completely self-defeating. What I'm reacting to is probably not aesthetic conceit, but obvious aesthetic conceit; bad craft. Surely there's room to add a bit of colour. Not to mention that when I sing in my normal voice, I feel it's a little bland.

Something else occurred to me as I listened to the halting, whispering vocals of Doveman -- ordinarily I might've started thinking that perhaps the whisper was a little precious. But I remember that when I was trying to learn a new song recently I sung in a whisper 'cause I wasn't sure of the tune and didn't want to loudly commit to the wrong note. When you're using a softer voice, mistakes are less obvious and matter less. So it could be that singing softly allows more creativity. Like using scrap paper instead of a Moleskine journal when you're brainstorming visual ideas.

I started to like the whisper. And why shouldn't it be carried into the final version after the song's been finished? It sounds more interesting anyway.

Write your melody first

A mate of mine Nathan said he got some advice of a songwriter friend of his that you should write the melody for your song first, before you lay down the chords. It's good advice. The reason, I think, is so that your melody is allowed the creative space to develop and become more adventurous without being unconsciously restricted by the confines of a simple chord structure.

This kinda stuck with me because it articulated the problem I could never quite put my finger on, with the songs of many acoustic guitar-wielding singer-songwriters. And mine too I suspect. Often their chord structures are simple (which is fine of course) but then their melodies are also simple; just a sung version of the chords. It just makes for flat; predictable music. I'm not saying following this method necessarily solves the problem, but it might help shakes things up a bit.

Two guitars that sound the same

Normally it seems to make sense for two electric guitars to occupy different parts in the sonic range of a song. For example, one with more of a bassy sound might play sustained chords low down, while the other more trebly guitar might play repeated two-note arpeggios higher up.

But Cruiser by Red house painters ignores all this. It has two guitars sitting at exactly the same trebly level. At times it seems like both guitars are playing two simple parts of a whole, more complex, guitar part. But this structure is only hinted at as the separate parts change and evolve in syncopation and embellishment, at times overlapping and coming together but then moving further away from each other.

The result is a shimmery, off-kilter sound that not even a skillful guitarist could emulate.

Writing less

For ages I had Wordless chorus from My morning jacket in my head. This is a song that really takes the voice as an instrument seriously and allows it to do its own thing a bit and chart a melody separate from the underlying, simple chord structure and the lyrics themselves. Often when I'm writing songs I'll write way too much -- and also the stuff I write has too much of a literal note for word arrangement. I should write less and allow the voice to do more. Let it stretch out some words and part of words and clip others.

Wordless bridge

Sometimes you don't need to have lyrics in your bridge. You can just go somewhere different with the music. And it can sound really good, especially if it tells a bit of a story in itself with tension and resolution; majors and minors. I noticed this in Jamie Barnes' amazing version of Joy to the world. There's probably a technical musical name for this kind of thing, it's probably not even called a bridge. Something Italian.

Vocal samples and contextual irony

It seems like vocal samples, at least in indie music, are often used in a pretty narrow way -- ironically. I wonder to what extent this colours even samples intended to be taken at face value. The song that got me thinking was Tuung's Wind-up birds which uses samples from some creaky old BBC series. This is an example of many similar songs: the content and delivery is campy and odd, the content is probably edited to surrealist effect -- the irony is obvious. By ironic, I guess I mean that we listen to the samples in ways separate from the original intended meaning. For example: we appreciate old thespian accents, or we experience nostalgia for our childhood or we are follow a new subversive narrative stitched together from pieces of the old.

BBC series/turn-the-page stories are popular. But another favourite is the hell-fire preacher (see Sons of Apollo from Half-smiles of the decomposed from Guided by voices). The irony here seems to work in a similar but slightly different way. While the delivery may sound old-fashioned and over-the-top, the real irony stems from the seeming outrageousness of the content itself. This seems to be so self-evident, that there is little need for other guidance or commentary on how the listener is to interpret the material. The juxtaposition between the style of music, the aesthetic of the artist and the preacher seems to be enough. It seems to (probably rightly) presuppose a deeply secular audience who, along with the artist, can only wonder at, or scorn the bizarre religious convictions of another time.

I reckon indie Christian artists who insert 'straight' samples from preachers (or even Bible passages such as in Red Letter's One Righteous Man) are fighting against the way our ears have been trained to hear this kind of stuff. But perhaps it's time to start reclaiming some ground.

Using the piano as a drone instrument

Something in me shies away from using the piano or keyboard in music. The most obvious reason is that I don't really know the first thing about it. Also, often I just don't notice it in the music I listen to and so don't value what it brings to the mix. Another reason is that it just seems like too much trouble when you can 'get it done' with two guitars, drums and vocals.

Also, when I imagine the 'rock-piano' sound, I've got a kind of upfront cheesy keyboard sound in my head which doesn't necessarily bear any relation to the truth. See, piano is good. Well-placed simple chords and tinkly arpeggios can really add to the texture of a song. It also gives more options for dynamic changes. Go piano.

I was listening to Arcade Fire's Funeral today. There's a band that uses their piano well, especially on that album. I especially like it though, piano philistine that I am, when they ignore its vast melodic potential and use it as a drone or a rhythm instrument. I noticed this especially on Rebellion (lies).

There's something a bit perverse about taking such a virtuoso instrument and using it to lay down simple droney notes or as one instrument among many, filling gaps in a sinister chugging wall of sound. But it sounds really good.