“Who, me?” might have been your response on reading the title of this article.
Yes, you. First I will tell you why you should, and then how to do it.
You should write a song because there is no limit to how many songs can be written, and you’ve got one in you — at least one, that is.
If you doubt my no-song-limitation assertion, consider the math: For each note you write, there are a number of (sonically suitable) notes that can follow it. The same goes for that second note, and each one thereafter, multiplying the possible variations. Even if you just stick with the notes in a single octave and you're writing in a major scale, there are seven notes that can follow the previous one (including repeating that original note), namely do, re, mi, fa, so, la, and ti (but not the second “do” because that is in the next octave). So with just two notes, there are seven possibilities of two-note "songs" that begin with a given note. With three notes, the number of note combinations are seven times seven (49); with four notes, there are 343 possible combinations, and so on. You can see how the possible combinations of notes are virtually limitless — you may as well say there is an infinite number of songs that can be written. And that's just thinking about the notes themselves, not their duration, tone, whether they're played staccato or legato, the instrumentation used, the tempo of the song, etc. Beyond that, if it's not an instrumental, the lyrics will make your song unique, too. And again, if you use the full range of notes audible to humans (not just a single octave, as in the simplified example above), the possible combinations of notes expand that much more — astronomically, in fact.
A song that only you can write is waiting to be written.
Why write a song — to become rich and famous? That’s probably not going to happen whether it’s your aim or not; and that shouldn’t be your goal, or motive, anyway. You can always tell when somebody is playing music for those shallow and superficial reasons, and the music is phony-sounding and off-putting as a result.
Again, it’s highly unlikely that you will gain fame and fortune from writing songs. It is said of artists (musicians, writers, photographers, what-have-you) that just enough of them make it big to make dreamers of the rest. The household names can be fabulously wealthy, it’s true, but the “starving artist” of anecdotal fame is, indeed, the norm — and you should be okay with that. It’s the art and self-expression that counts, not the accolades or material rewards.
Write a song because art is liberating and creativity is emotionally uplifting. Playing music not only improves your physical coordination (as you build muscle memory by hitting the right notes), it also exercises your brain (as you have to concentrate on what you're playing and what you will play next), and is beneficial to your mental health (providing a means of expressing yourself and affording you a feeling of accomplishment).
OK, that's the why you should write a song. Now for the how:
It's true that you will probably first need to play a musical instrument (with one exception mentioned at the end of this paragraph). If you don’t know how to play an instrument, you can learn (can't you?). You don’t have to be a virtuoso to write music. Learn enough to get the basics down, and you can do it. Most people who write music do so at the piano or while playing guitar, but any instrument will suffice — even a tuba, kazoo, or what-have-you. Remember, too, that the human voice is the greatest instrument of all — and is as portable as can be, for “wherever you go, there you are.” You can write your song by singing the melody; you can hum it or whistle it first, and add the words later if you want to.
To prove that you don’t have to know everything about music theory and be a world-class instrumentalist (or vocalist, for that matter) to write songs, consider Hank Williams (Senior), who wrote many hit songs, such as — to name just a handful — Your Cheatin’ Heart, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, Hey Good Lookin’, Lovesick Blues, Move It On Over, and Jambalaya (On the Bayou).
Why do I invoke Hank Sr.? Because he would only spend at most 15 minutes writing a song. If it took him longer than that, he gave it up as too complicated. He kept it simple.
So now this is how you write a song:
Just do it.
What do I mean by ‘Just do it’? This: Don't try to write the hit of the century or anything unusual or profound. Just write a song, any old song, using whatever chord or chords you want and the first melody that comes to mind. It doesn’t have to be good. In fact, the first draft of your song is almost guaranteed not to be good.
This reminds me of the instructions in the manual that came with the original Microsoft Flight Simulator application, in the lesson that tells you how to take off on your first flight. It basically said:
Do this, then do that, then crash.
… because everybody crashes the first time (if not the second and the third time, too) — it’s inevitable
The situation is identical when writing your first song (or poem, story, or software program): Your first effort will, by definition, be amateurish. But at least you have something to work with; something to build on. Possibly you kept the whole song in a single chord, such as C or E or G (or Db, for all I know). Once in a great while, a popular song does remain in one chord throughout, but that’s rare. You can improve on your monochordal tune by adding some chord changes. The same thing goes with the melody you wrote for it. Maybe as you play it over again, you can think of some changes that will improve it. The lyrics you came up with at first will doubtless stand for some revising, too.
So, go ahead and write a crummy song. But then revise it, revise it, revise it, and revise it yet again, gradually making it better (step-wise refinement). Since your song is probably pretty bad to begin with, the only change possible will be a positive one. It could be that your song ends up being only average, even after you’ve spruced it up as much as you can. That’s completely OK; after all, the average song is, by definition, mediocre (middle-of-the-road, or “average”), so don’t be discouraged by that result. Do you imagine that the first songs Stephen Foster, Woody Guthrie, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, Carole King, Bruce Springsteen, Jackson Browne, Adele, Shania Twain, and Taylor Swift wrote were masterpieces? Not likely. They honed their craft after much time, practice, and painstaking work.
Even if you never play your song for anyone else, you will have gotten the creative juices flowing; your body, brain, and heart will thank you for it. Don't write songs to impress people; write them to express yourself. Don’t be phony; be real. Honesty and sincerity in self-expression are their own reward. In that way, it is like a pie-eating contest:
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