New Song Demo: “Never Sure”
Well, I didn’t blog all weekend, because Mary’s computer died and she needed to use my laptop for grading papers. So I’ll try to make up for it this week somehow.
On of the things I want to do with this blog is give you a chance to see into the process of writing new songs, talk about how I wrote it, and let you hear a demo recording of it. It’s an uncomfortable thing to do, though, because the initial demos are inevitably quite rough: the recording sounds thin, my voice is pitchy as I feel out a melody, and the lyrics or structure might change altogether. Just like my wife won’t leave the house without her hair and makeup done, these demos were never meant to be heard. They’re unpolished, rough-hewn sketches full of flaws. (Incidentally, my wife is beautiful when she wakes up, even before the makeup! 
)
All that being said, the demos are like a polaroid snapshot of the moment when a song shows up. And that’s exciting to me.
(click the play button to hear the track)
This is a song that started to form when I was working in a coffee roasting warehouse in Atlanta. I would bag a couple thousand pounds of coffee each day, and would often kick around songs in my head as I worked. The first verse came to me there:
“All my friends have records, we’re all trying to hit the road
But I’ve never really listened, and they haven’t seen our show
We’re just trying to get some traction, we’re all fighting to be heard
Trying to make our contribution to the soundtrack of this world”
When I wrote that, I was thinking about the fact that nearly everyone I knew was a musician, but many of them I hadn’t actually gone to see them play or listened to their music. We were all in Atlanta, hustling, networking, and trying to be heard amidst a sea of other bands. And we’ve sacrificed quite a lot to chase our creative dream.
But in the end, you can’t be sure you’re ever going to accomplish your dream. And even if you reach it, how long will it last?
It was eye-opening, moving to Atlanta, and seeing the fallout of music careers all around: The sound guy at a local club was in a successful band that had major radio play just a year earlier (I had even covered one of their songs!). The guy packing coffee next to me was the drummer for a successful artist who had toured the world and played on Letterman’s show. All around town I met great musicians who had been very successful, who were now back in the middle of the pack. How would I fare any better?
The first verse is very specifically about being a musician, which is way more narrow and specific than I like to be in a song, because it’s just not very universal. I prefer to be a little more broad, so that more people can connect with the song. However, the concept of trying to achieve your dreams, and the struggle entailed, is understandable to most people. So the verse might change, but that’s where the song came from.
In the second verse, I wanted to tell a similar story but with a different character. This is a guy who wants a wife and family. He got a job, bought a house and has set everything in place to get married but the piece of the puzzle he can’t find is the woman. He’s alone and waiting.
“I saved a little money and I bought myself a home
but in the early morning hours I still find myself alone
We’re all looking for the future, trying to make it through the night
Lately I’ve been wondering if I’ll ever see the light”
The common thread in both of these stories, is the idea that we’re often chasing a future that might not happen. And perhaps we’re missing out on something in the meantime.
This demo has a middle section that’s too long. I was a little self-indulgent with it, but I like the way it builds to the end. I’m not a lead player, so my solo is really elementary, but there are a few moments I like. I recorded this at home with a condenser mic into Garageband. I used my 12-string guitar, which is an old Hohner model I got for a measley $150 and I love the way it sounds. I over dubbed the harmonies and added a lot of reverb to get the haunting sound.
So that’s it.
