This is a bit of a word vomit, but I’ve been reflecting a bit more critically on my songwriting and lyric writing in particular over the past few months. In a recent Spouse meeting, I had to type out and send the band all of my lyrics, which was actually the first time most of the band would have seen what I’m really saying in our songs. I kept thinking and saying “thank god I’m not a white man!”, it truly is music for losers, and I ask that no one goes searching for these words or listening for them too closely. Sorry Genius, to you I say “NO NO NO NO GO AWAY.” I guess it was so mortifying because I had to show all my cards to my best friends, something I of course have done at various stages before, but doing it all at once on a whatsapp call was a bit ridiculous. Here’s a photo of what the call looked like:

I also played my first Victoria acoustic solo set, in front of people I take very seriously, and my words and nervous guitar playing were fully on display, caught naked at the Espy in St. Kilda, what a night! These events have sparked some introspection and critical reflection on what the hell it is that I’m talking about. It feels insane and beautiful at the same time that I am friends and colleagues with some of the best songwriters in Australia, but this makes the spectre of Imposter Syndrome a much heavier kidney stone to carry in the piss sack. What is it that I have to say/sing that I think other people need to hear? I don’t think I’m writing music for other people to hear it, but my friend Ziek and I have been discussing the dynamics/conflicts between art, the artist, and who owns it, and what happens to it when its perceived by an audience, or made with an audience in mind. Am I really writing for me? Or was this riff/line subconsciously laced with what I think cool people will hear and say “oh that’s cool”? Some secret third thing where its all of these things and none of them at once.

Historically for me, lyrics have come last in the songwriting process, especially in Spouse, where the riff will usually be what comes first, maybe one or two lines and then the rest is sort of mashed together out of the babbling that happens when I’m coming up with my vocal melodies. Out of sheer dumb luck, they’ve done the job, but I don’t tend to connect with the songs where I’ve done that anymore. Who would’ve thought it’s hard to connect with lyrics that you hadn’t fully thought out, or don’t even really mean? I do the thing that everyone else seems to do, where when a fleeting phrase comes by, I’ll whack it into an empty notes app entry, and never look at it again, or, if I do, I’ll scoff and scratch my head at whatever feeling that was, and fob it off. The times where I do like my own lyrics are when they’re imagery based, and I know what the moment/image made me feel, but can keep that for myself, while others can hear/see that moment and assign their own feelings to it. But maybe this is some kind of lyrical emotional avoidance, I’m being less vulnerable because I don’t have to tell you what I’m really thinking or feeling, but you can tell me what you felt if you feel called to.

I know what good song writing is when I hear it, just as much as I know bad song writing when I hear it, but I guess when it comes to the self/introspection, it feels impossible to be objective about it. I try not to be overly harsh about what I do, this is largely based on being told nice things by nice people about it, but that nagging voice in the back of my head is still saying that these things are only said out of niceness. Who would have the guts to tell me that I wrote a bad song? Is everyone just watching us play out of duty and friendship? What if, secretly, I’ve been completely tone-deaf this entire time but no one felt up to breaking the bad news to me? I’ve been doing alright at tucking these nasties behind a big frontal-lobe-wall, but at the same time I think perhaps its good practice to listen to them sometimes just to keep myself in heck, to pursue “better art”.

All of this is amalgamating to a more conscious lyric writing effort. Certainly over the past few years of writing and playing in my own voice (both in Spouse and solo), I know which parts of myself and my thinking I like to share, and they seem to be something people can connect with. They’re definitely informed by what I’m listening to and reading at the time, but I suppose they are coming from my consciousness so they are technically my own thoughts and my own “creativity”. The question of what true “creativity” or “creation” are will be more of a lifelong quest I think, but this feels like a part of the songwriting journey, and the natural bending and meandering that happens on this kind of path. Maybe in 5 years I will be writing a Steeley Dan Aja worship album? More likely another Horse Jumper of Love or Wednesday rip. I feel a bit lost on what it is I’m trying to say here, but this seems on theme and maybe that is exactly what I’m trying to say. “I do not know what I’m trying to say”. It’s a good humbling practice to say this.