A new three part BBC TV series called ‘Secrets of the Pop Song’ featuring Guy
Chambers (co-songwriter with Robbie Williams), Rufus Wainwright (son of folk
singer Loudon Wainwright and sister of Martha) plus others including Boy
George, Sting, Neil Tennant, Don Black, Diane Warren and many others, have
tried to demonstrate what makes a good (ie, commercially successful) song. The
most revealing part has been in the studio when various artists have been set
the challenge of coming up with a genre number, such as power ballad, catchy
chart topper or anthemic song. Although these were somewhat artificial
circumstances the methods demonstrated aren’t so far off reality. Many pop
songs start out as little more than experiments with rhythm sequences or random
words that only later get sorted out into some kind of sense.

For me, however, coming from a folk background, the most telling insight was the
over-riding emphasis on superficial sounds rather than content. Generally
speaking folk songs have a historical or social meaning and, though some
singers may take this rather too seriously, it definitely gives the material
greater depth and intelligence. Since folk music is, by and large, not
commercially driven it can also afford to take the long view and not have to
pack an immediate punch which all pop certainly does. On the other hand, it was
obvious there are some amazing musicians working today (especially in the
studio) able to turn vague or humdrum doodles into great sounds.

The process of song creation demonstrated, though greatly enhanced by electronic
wizardry, isn’t really so very different to any singer-songwriter struggling
over a composition on just an old guitar. I often start with little more than
an interesting thought or phrase and gradually build it up like designing a
house – and I’m sure many other writers do much the same. Only very
occasionally do I get the whole concept in one go, though I might be struck by
an idea which I know has promise and then spend days or weeks trying to realise
it. There are also various techniques or tricks learned over many years which
help you avoid too much stumbling around in the dark – but you have to avoid
not getting lazy and falling back on clichés or comfortable patterns. The test,
as with any music (and on this BBC show), is in a live context – you never
quite know what will happen or how both you and others will respond. Music,
more than any other art form, is only really meaningful played to an audience
and only then can it truly come alive and show its potential.

Lastly, of all the possible reasons for song writing: profit, fun, friendship, even
political or social campaigning, I must admit to only one – obsession. Almost
every day, wherever I am, songs in various stages of construction keep buzzing
around my skull, like unsolved puzzles begging solutions. Even very old songs I
thought were done and dusted many moons ago come back to haunt me, suggesting
alternative lines or even whole new verses. Alternatively, brand new ideas,
tunes or words, can appear from nowhere or be triggered by something said or
read anywhere. This last scenario is OK in the car when I can quickly grab
paper and pencil, but out walking or working it can be a damn nuisance. Of
course, only a fraction of these embryonic masterpieces get to be finished and
even fewer are heard by the public.