My name is Greg and I am a song snob. As far back as high school I remember a strong distaste for simplistic, repetitive, and saccharine songs of that time. I recall a real distaste when I was in High School for Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Silly Love Songs.” I learned many years later that it was written in response to John Lennon’s criticism that Paul only wrote “silly love songs.” What appealed to me was a bit more scarce…songs with musical structures that surprised me and lyrics with great imagery and meaning. If I were to pick two songs that appealed to me from that era, I’d name “The Last Resort” by The Eagles (for amazing lyrics that are made even more moving by the music) and “Sitting” by Cat Stevens. The latter more than the former because of lyrics that challenged me to think.
The last verse of “Sitting” goes as follows: “Oh, life is like a maze of doors and they all open from the side you’re on. Just keep on pushing hard, boy, try as you may, you’re gonna wind up where you started from.” I can’t count the number of doors I’ve pushed on. One that I have pushed on for years became very clear this week in what I think is a major life lesson for me.
When my life came crashing down in 2012, my heart knew I needed to find new purpose and I knew it had to involve music. My head went on a search for meaning and found interesting things to write about, and though what resulted was intriguing to me, I feel it was less meaningful to others. I was writing explanations of what I had experienced. I kept going on this path as I had no interest in doing what I saw as the only alternative: writing just to fit the formula of the day for the purpose of selling songs.
It’s a very lonely feeling to be communicating what you feel is important only to find that you’re not making sense to anyone and that you’re really wasting your time. I started to wonder if it was worth the effort. Partly from this and partly from isolation due to Covid, I was also feeling all alone in the world. I was craving connection and felt I had to make a decision between pursuing my passion of composing songs about who we really are in this universe and being fulfilled in being a human being connected with others on a level of their comfort. Either way, it seemed, I would have to sacrifice part of myself.
Several days ago before going to bed, I set out an intention to better understand what I needed to do with this conundrum. I woke up about four hours into sleep and had to write this down: “Phrase what you know into the personal.” So I let that stew in the back of my mind, intending that I would find a way to do that in the next song I wrote, though it felt contrived. Two days later I did a meditation. During this meditation, what seemed to be a very trite phrase came to my mind along with some musical notes. I tried to let them drift away, but they stayed and repeated. When I was done, I knew I had been given a challenge. Write this “trite” song. It felt like waste of time, but I saw it an exercise I needed to do for some reason as yet unknown.
I started work on the song. What I wrote seemed just another example of a silly love song. I recorded the song and thought it was mildly interesting from a musical perspective. I shared it with one person who was aware of my meditation, the song, and how I felt about it. I got a response saying that many people would relate to the lyrics. This surprised me, so I went back to look closer at what I had written, and realized that the song was a joke on me. I had been led to answering my own questions through a silly love song. The singer moves from being “above” heart-based connection into deep within it.
If I want to write what is important to me AND allow others to relate, I have to stop pushing at the doors of life’s maze. Instead I need to pull the door open and allow others into how my experience feels. To me this is work as I’m very self-protective in many ways. But I know it is work that is necessary if I want to pursue my passions and have connection as well.
If you’d like to hear this “silly love song,” please click below.
This is really nice, Greg! Love, mom
Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it.