How I write most of my songs

I think they're already out there. I just stumble across them when I open my mind.

I stayed in a backcountry yurt a little over a week ago. Packed in my guitar (it was only two miles and I didn’t have to pack much water or a tent so I could add the extra weight no problem).

I went by myself to give my girlfriend the house for a night, get a night to myself, find peace and clarity in some rare isolation, turn off the internet. I read some Matsuo Basho poetry, played some guitar and talked to myself a lot, some of which I recorded on my phone. It’s weird how being totally alone with your thoughts can turn you quickly into something of a madman.

The way I write songs these days is pretty weird (or maybe not?) I just start playing my guitar, whatever chords sound good, and then I sing whatever words pop into my head. Sometimes I record this on my phone. Sometimes I don’t and regret it.

Sometimes the songs that I “find” this way are surprisingly catchy or I realize I’ve stumbled across some really good lyric. (In this song: “I don’t remember anyways / what are we doing / why’d we stay / locked in this motion of pain?”)

Often they’re rough, half-baked or have just a single shining moment that I think might work if I shaped it further into something else. But yes, I consider this finding songs as much as I consider it writing them. I untether myself from my conscious brain and see what happens, for better or worse. Maybe “divining” is the word.

It very much helps to be alone for this process, even more so than when I’m writing (which I have a hard time doing with any sort of distraction). It was perfect out in the middle of the forest with nobody—literally nobody—anywhere near me. The nearest yurt was nearly a mile down the trail. Nobody was out hiking. It was a beautiful, brisk afternoon that turned very cold when the sun went down.

But it had not gone down yet when I recorded this short, not even two-and-a-half minute song off the top of my head. I’m glad I recorded it. It’s quite catchy even though it’s incredibly simple, consisting of just two chords—G and Em—and only a few lyrics.

A few days later I listened to the recording on my phone and liked it more than I expected, so I figured I’d upload it to YouTube with some pictures of the yurt. Then I thought “Why not make a music video instead?” So I dug up some free footage on the internet, edited it together into the above video, and voila presto! An original song and video. Fun to edit together also, practice with ye olde Photoshop.

Speaking of lyrics, here they are, written down for the first time (though, admittedly, I get a little mumbly at times so I’m guessing on some of these and if I re-record it someday I’ll change a few lines, and have even begun changing them here already. It’s a process!)

It doesn’t matter what you wear
or the color of your hair
and it doesn’t matter anyways
how you spend your night
or how you spend your day
and it doesn’t matter.

and i was on my own in the woods
just singing to myself, it occurred
it couldn’t be better
if anyone was here.
and it’s a sin, oh baby it’s a shame
and here goes, you’re losing your name
but what does it matter ... who you are?
or what you see when you wish upon a star?

I … don’t 
I don’t remember anyways
what are we doing, why’d we stay
locked in this motion of pain?
it’s creeping a little further each day

I wanna see my own self
I wanna see my own self 
stuck in the forest all alone
not looking for my phone
ok, but what does it matter, anyway?

P.S. My song ‘Phonebooth’ was written the exact same way, though in my then-office/recording studio at our previous townhouse years ago now. I went and found all this vintage black-and-white footage of strippers and edited it together for that video, so it’s similarly rough around the edges, but the video is less “pretty” and more…well I don’t know how to describe it. (I can’t embed it here because YouTube has designated it 18+ and restricted which is bullshit and I am appealing it now that I know).

Thanks for reading, listening, being awesome and wonderful folk. Appreciate all of you!