There’s this song that I want to write. It’s the greatest song you’ll ever hear. The melody is captivating, the lyrics moving, the accompaniment inspired. The interplay of the different instruments is unique and bewitching.
In short, it’s the best song ever. It will take you on a musical journey you’ve never ever been on before. It’s the song I’ll be known for – people will sing its praises for decades.
The problem is, I can’t write it. I’ve been trying every day since I was ten to write this song, and I still haven’t got there.
I’m nearer now than I was 18 years ago, ten years ago, five years ago. I’m nearer than I was last week, and there’s a song brewing at the back of my head right now that might just be it.
Or might not.
Do I hate eveything else I’ve written? No, I certainly don’t. In particular I’m very proud of the music I’ve produced in the last year. But I haven’t written that song yet.
Maybe next year. Or the one after.
No related posts.
Huh. Y’know, I’ve never felt this way. I think it’s because I generally don’t decide, “Hey, I’m going to try to write a song today.” Instead an idea or turn of phrase gets under my skin and I think, “I want to write about THAT,” or “I want to find a way to use THAT.” Every new song is its own song, very specific, and can’t ever be THE song, because there is no such thing.
Thing is, I don’t know any of the specifics of this song. I couldn’t tell you whether it’s fast or slow, major or minor, a full-on rock song or a stripped down ballad.
It’s more a metaphor for the sort of effect I’m trying to achieve, or the sort of quality I want in my writing. I think my songs are good – but they’re not good enough just yet.