df taylor

Don’t be afraid to steal (but make sure you use it well)

Avoid plagiarism but never be afraid to borrow and repurpose what’s already out there.

If you hear a chord sequence that you love, or a riff that you know would sound amazing, but played in reverse order – go for it. You define great songs by the end product, not by how you came up with it.

As long as you’ve not just taken the chords, melody and sentiment of say, Meet Me at Mary’s Place by Sam Cooke, and blatantly written around it – then you’re all good. And anyway, Springsteen did that first (and didn’t even credit poor, dead Sam).

Serve the song, not your ego – the music

I know, I know – you’ve got amazing chops, can whip off a wailing solo in seconds and your modulations between key changes make Andrew Lloyd-Webber regret ever writing Phantom of the Opera – but, it’s too late, you’ve drowned your song in a tempest of tacky bling.

A three-chord rocker that suddenly becomes a Gregorian chant may seem the height of sophistication and musical daring, but it just sounds like you’re a dick who thinks you’re smarter than your audience. You’re not.

Serve the song, not your ego – the lyrics

Just because you can write poetry like Keats doesn’t mean you should. Consider both the setting and the message of your song. If you’ve written a gin-soaked country-ballad, then a sudden burst of Keats-ian expression and sensation may be a little out-of-place.

Make sure your method never gets in the way of your message.

Never doubt the power of trying something new

I’m best at writing pop-rock songs, but, there’s a real value in ignoring everything you’re good at and doing something that’s just different.

It could be using a different instrument or tuning, it could be a different musical style, and it could even be trying to insert Keats into a three-chord rocker with a Gregorian chant in the middle eight.

Even if it doesn’t work, it might help you to figure out what you really want to do.

Follow your muse

I’m not a believer that the muse is a spiritual entity beaming inspiration into your fingers and larynx, but there is good advice in the theory. Write what feels right – if it’s all sad, low-key acoustic ballads; don’t fight it because you ‘should’ write an upbeat rocker.

Be creative and stretch yourself if you’ve got the desire, but don’t force it just because someone tells you that you should.

Be true

Actors (good ones at any rate) say that good acting isn’t about pretending to be someone else, or faking it – it’s about finding the truth in a character and using that to make them real for the audience.

Writing a song is similar – look for what’s emotionally true about it. You don’t need to have experienced what you’re writing about, (in my song, The Dark Sea, the protagonist drowns and, as best I can tell, I haven’t ever drowned, sailed on a stormy night or been Irish), you just have to identify with the sentiment of it.

Never doubt the power of harmonies

I don’t care what sort of songs you write, whether it’s vastly inappropriate or if you’ve never listened to the Beach Boys – harmonies fucking rock. You can improve any with their presence by a factor of 10-20.

Boring chorus? Add harmonies. Can’t think of decent lyrics? Add harmonies. Can’t play guitar well enough to solo? That’s right, add harmonies. Harmonies solve every musical problem, and a large amount of real-world ones too.

Three is enough, four is acceptable if well-chosen, and five is just boring

You think you’ve got a lot to say but, trust me, no one wants to listen. Songs including four or five verses are just no fun. I don’t care if Dylan did it – you are not Dylan.

Three verses is a good amount and here’s why: introduction, expansion, resolution. That’s a perfect way to tell a three act story. In addition, your chorus can carry the main theme of the song, and the middle eight (if used) can help you change the song’s overall meaning.

More than anything, it’s good discipline. Say more with less and, when you do need more, you’ll know it’s for the right reasons and that you’ll make a good job of it.

Choose your weapon

People may scoff and say that how you record isn’t as important as what you record, but I respectfully disagree.

I’ve recorded using almost every approach out there, and I’m happiest when I’m home, with my guitars around me, my microphone set up and Nuendo running. Add in Guitar Rig 3 and BFD and there’s nothing else I need. By being comfortable with my tools, I experiment more, I work faster and I spend my time being creative instead of being a technician.

So, choose your weapon and focus on making your music, not trying to record it.

Do it because you love it

This is a purely personal perspective, but the best songs come from love. That doesn’t mean they’re about love, but because you love writing songs. If you do it out of a desire just to show you can do it, it’ll be awful without fail because it’ll never ring true.

Painting by numbers isn’t the same as painting from life. It looks the same on first glance, but it’s shallow, less compelling and less interesting ultimately. Writing by numbers has the same effect – it’ll fool you on first listen, but with each further repeat, you hear less and less.