Smoke and mirrors can be the mark of both a good and a bad songwriter, depending upon the kind of smoke, and the use of mirrors. First let's take a look at bad smoke...smoke that clouds the issue, smoke that obscures the subject. Songwriters frequently are looking for good smoke (mystery, drama) and fall into the other kind.
Too often I've heard a songwriter point to writing he likes on a CD or the radio and say, "You see? I want to write like that. I'm not sure what he/she meant, but it really affected me." What affected the songwriter was his own story he filled in from the pictures the songwriter on the CD painted--as well as the emotional effect of the melody and harmony. The images in the song may have meant one thing to the writer and may evoke something different in the listener, but that's the beauty of using images. James Taylor meant something other than airplanes in "Fire and Rain" when he said, "Flying machines in pieces on the ground," but we got what we got. So that type of smoke creates a kind of mystery. Great songs are frequently written on more than one level. The literal level tells one story and the metaphoric level tells a story you may not even get until the third of fourth hearing. Some people will never get it. They'll just enjoy that song about the beaches in Wyoming. Twenty years ago, this kind of listener enjoyed hearing what a desperado's life was like when he was out ridin' fences. They buy records, so God bless 'em. But they're probably not anyone's target audience.
Music can create mystery, the good smoke. A melody that goes to an unpredictable place or certain chord changes can create a mood where the listeners hangs on every word. It's best not to disappoint them with lyrics that are obscure, abstract, illogical, as we'll see, self-centered.
Mirrors are a good thing when they look into the heart of the songwriter, as Nik Venet says in his workshop, "with a tiny flashlight for the hidden corners." He goes on to say:
"The songwriter is really alone...a space-saving, territorial person who, on occasions, can be found wandering among us, jotting down journal entries that will become small mirrors that we, the audience, will eventually see ourselves in. For better or for worse, but for real."
The mirror turns on the listener when the songwriter has had the courage and craft to reveal something so personal and specific that it will reveal something about the listener as well. This is an example of the specific becoming universal. This is the kind of mirror Nik Venet is talking about, above. Too often an inexperienced songwriter, in an attempt to have general appeal, will keep his lyric generic. In an attempt to appeal to everyone, he will touch no one.
Everybody is the center of his own universe. A great songwriter will speak about the listener's universe by digging deep into his own heart and mind to find those thruths that others are afraid to face or can't find their way to. These shared realizations move the listener, make him feel he's part of the human race. The less interested, and therefore less interesting, songwriter will write about himself because that's all he's really interested in. His lyrics will deal with such introspective subjects as how angry he/she is that the lover left...how he's going to show the world his true worth...why he has such bad luck...and how confused he is by all the mysteries of life. The mysteries of life could range from why he lost his job to why his parents were so thoughtless.
As the excellent songwriter/singer, Kevin Fisher of Naked to the World, said to me at the Acoustic Underground Anniversary Concert, "There are no bad subjects..." It's true--any of these "self-indulgent" subjects listed above, in the hands of a skillful writer, could dazzle us. But in the hands of a writer whose mirror is always seeing his own adoring face, the subject will seem shallow, poorly written and not relevant to most people. So as the audience begins to talk among themselves, the songwriter gets a subject for his new song..."why they didn't listen." Pretty soon, we feel like we're in a house of mirrors with that songwriter's face in every mirror. It's more like a nightmare.
So next time you're listening to smoke and mirrors, ask yourself what kind each is. If there's a haunting, mysterious melody and harmony setting a lyric that draws you in and makes you think and feel, it's good smoke. And if you start looking at your life and the pictures in your head by listening to the writer reveal his own specific dilemmas, dreams, realizations...it's a good mirror. That's what art is for. Honor that writer. But if there's obscurity thinly veiling the self-centered attempt at oral angst, don't even stay long enough to buy a drink. Go home and put on a CD that inspires you.
© 1996 Harriet Schock
Webmaster: Jeff Mallett (jeffm@lyricist.com)