Writing Better Lyrics Page 5

  3. LOOK UP EACH WORD IN YOUR RHYMING DICTIONARY

  Be sure to extend your search to imperfect rhyme types, and to select only words that connect with your ideas. Above all, don't bother with cliché rhymes or other typical rhymes. First, a quick survey of rhyme types.

  Perfect Rhyme

  Don't let yourself be seduced by the word “perfect.” It doesn't mean “better,” it only means:

  The syllables' vowel sounds are the same.

  The consonant sounds after the vowels (if any) are the same.

  The sounds before the vowels are different.

  Remember, lyrics are sung, not read or spoken. When you sing, you exaggerate vowels. And since rhyme is a vowel connection, lyricists can make sonic connections in ways other than perfect rhyme.

  Family Rhyme

  The syllables' vowel sounds are the same.

  The consonant sounds after the vowels belong to the same phonetic families.

  The sounds before the vowels are different.

  Here's a chart of the three important consonant families:

  Each of the three boxes — plosives, fricatives, and nasals — form a phonetic family. When a word ends in a consonant in one of the boxes, you can use the other members of the family to find perfect rhyme substitutes.

  Rub/up/thud/putt/bug/stuck are members of the same family — plosives — so they are family rhymes.

  Love/buzz/judge/fluff/fuss/hush/touch are members of the fricative family, so they also are family rhymes.

  Strum/run/sung rhyme as members of the nasal family.

  Say you want to rhyme this line:

  I'm stuck in a rut

  First, look up perfect rhymes for rut: cut, glut, gut, hut, shut.

  The trick to saying something you mean is to expand your alternatives. Look at the table of family rhymes below and introduce yourself to t's relatives:

  That's much better. Now we find that we have a lot of interesting stuff to say no to.

  What if you want to rhyme this:

  There's nowhere I can feel safe

  First, look up perfect rhymes for safe in your rhyming dictionary. All we get is waif. Not much.

  Now look for family rhymes under f's family, the fricatives. We add these possibilities:

  Finally, nasals. The word “nasals” means what you think it means: All the sound comes out of your nose. Rhyme this line:

  My head is pounding like a drum

  Look up perfect rhymes for drum: hum, pendulum, numb, slum, strum.

  Go to the table of family rhymes and look at m's relatives:

  un

  ung

  fun

  hung

  gun

  flung

  overrun

  wrung

  won

  sung

  jettison

  skeleton

  Finding family rhyme isn't difficult, so there's no reason to tie yourself in knots using only perfect rhyme. Family rhyme sounds so close that when sung, the ear won't know the difference.

  Additive Rhyme

  The syllables' vowel sounds are the same.

  One of the syllables add extra consonants after the vowel.

  The sounds before the vowels are different.

  When the syllable you want to rhyme ends in a vowel (e.g., play, free, fly), the only way to generate alternatives is to add consonants after the vowel. The guideline is simple: The less sound you add, the closer you stay to perfect rhyme.

  Look again at the table of family rhymes. Voiced plosives — b, d, g — put out the least sound. Use them first, rhyming, for example, ricochet with paid; then the unvoiced plosives, rhyming free with treat. Next, voiced fricatives, rhyming fly and alive. Then on to unvoiced fricatives, followed by the most noticeable consonants (aside from l and r), the nasals. You'd end up with a list moving from closest to perfect rhyme to furthest away from perfect rhyme. For example, for free, we find: speed, cheap, sweet, grieve, belief, dream, clean, deal.

  You can also add consonants even if there are already consonants after the vowel, for example: street/sweets, alive/drives, dream/screamed, trick/risk.

  You can even combine this technique with family rhymes, such as dream/cleaned, club/floods/shove/stuff ed. This gives you even more options, making it easier to say what you mean.

  Subtractive Rhyme

  The syllables' vowel sounds are the same.

  One of the syllables adds an extra consonant after the vowel.

  The sounds before the vowels are different.

  Subtractive rhyme is basically the same as additive rhyme. The difference is practical. If you start with fast, class is subtractive. If you start with class, fast is additive.

  Help me please, I'm sinking fast

  Girl, you're in a different class

  For fast, you could also try: glass, flat, mashed (family), laughed (family), crash (fam. subt.).

  The possibilities grow.

  Assonance Rhyme

  The syllables' vowel sounds are the same.

  The consonant sounds after the vowels are unrelated.

  The sounds before the vowels are different.

  Assonance rhyme is the furthest you can get from perfect rhyme without changing vowel sounds. Consonants after the vowels have nothing in common. Try rhyming:

  I hope you're satisfied

  For satisfied, we come up with: life, trial, crime, sign, rise, survive, surprise.

  Use these rhyming techniques. You'll have much more leeway saying what you mean, and your rhymes will be fresh and useful. Again, look actively at each word. Use them to dive through your senses, as though you were object writing.

  You'll find more on these rhyme types, including helpful exercises, in my book Songwriting: Essential Guide to Rhyming.

  Rhymes and Chords

  You can think about rhyme in the same way you think about chords. Go to the piano and play three chords: an F chord with an F as the bass note in the left hand, then G7 with G as the bass note, then, finally, C. Play the C chord with the notes C, E, and G in the right hand, and a C as a bass note in the left hand. Sing a C, too. It really feels like you've arrived home, doesn't it?

  Next, do the same thing again with your right hand, singing a C when you get to the C chord, but this time, put a G in the left hand. It still feels like you're home, though not quite as solidly as when you played C in the bass. Still, it's difficult to notice the difference.

  Do it all again, this time playing the third in the bass, an E. It still feels like a version of home, but less stable. It seems to have some discomfort at home — a very expressive chord.

  Do it again, keeping the E in the bass, but this time take the C out of the chord in your right hand. Sing the C. This feels even less comfortable.

  Last time, add a B to the right hand, still leaving the C out. Now, you're actually playing an E minor chord, the three minor in the key of C, still singing the C. Now we have only a suggestion of home, rather than sitting down to the supper table.

  All of these voicings are useful, and all of these voicings are tonic (home) functions. Some land solidly and bring motion to a complete halt. Others express a desire to keep moving somewhere else — a kind of wanderlust. Each has its own identity and emotion.

  Rhymes work the same way. Some are stronger than others and express a desire to stay put; they are stable. Others may have a foot at home, but their minds are looking for the next place to go. They feel less stable.

  Here are the rhyme types, listed like the chords you played, in a scale from most stable to least stable:

  RHYME TYPES: SCALE OF RESOLUTION STRENGTHS

  Look at the simple example below — a stable, four-stress couplet. With perfect rhyme, it feels very solid and resolved:

  A lovely day to have some fun

  Hit the beach, get some sun

  As we move through the rhyme types, things feel less and less stable, even though the structure remains the same:

  Family rhyme:

  A l
ovely day to have some fun

  Hit the beach, bring the rum (a lot like C with G in the bass)

  Additive rhyme:

  A lovely day to have some fun

  Hit the beach, get some lunch (a lot like C with E in the bass)

  Subtractive rhyme:

  Hit the beach and get some lunch

  A lovely day, have some fun (a lot like C with E in the bass)

  Assonance rhyme:

  A lovely day to have some fun

  Hit the beach, fall in love (a lot like C with E in the bass, no C in the right hand)

  Consonance rhyme:

  A lovely day to have some fun

  Hit the beach, bring it on (a lot like the E minor in the key of C)

  Expanding your rhyming possibilities accomplishes three things:

  It multiplies the possibility of saying what you mean (and still rhyming) exponentially.

  It guarantees the rhymes will not be predictable or cliché.

  Most important, it allows you to control, like chords do, how stable or unstable the rhyme feels, allowing you to support or even create emotion with your rhymes.

  Together, these offer a pretty good argument against the proponents of “perfect rhyme only.”

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know you Ah yes, understand. Telegraphed and locked down. Mostly, I find it disappointing when I know what's coming. When it's already telegraphed and waltzing in your brain, why say it? If you instead said something different, you'd have both messages at the same time:

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know you'll take a stand (understand, the expected cliché, is still present.)

  I like the perfect rhyme here. The full resolution seems to support the idea. Now, how about:

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know you'd like to dance

  I love the surprise here. It also uses the telegraphing of understand as a second message. It's not a cliché rhyme. Pretty close, though, with n in common but d against c. That little bit of difference introduces something that perfect rhyme can't: a tinge of longing created by the difference at the end. The lack of perfect rhyme creates the same kind of instability as, say, the C major triad with a G in the bass. Almost, but not fully resolved. Just as a chord can create an emotional response, so can a less-perfect rhyme:

  WORKSHEET: RISKY BUSINESS

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know you're making plans

  The same tinge of instability.

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know you want to laugh

  What do you think the chances of hooking up are now? They seem about as remote as the assonance rhyme. Yup, the rhyme type really can affect and color the idea.

  It's still a “tonic” function, but now it seems more like a C major triad with an E in the bass.

  Finally:

  Baby baby take my hand

  Let me know I'm on your mind

  Now there's curiosity and uncertainty, expressed completely and only by the consonance rhyme. Pretty neat, huh?

  Brainstorming

  Brainstorming with a rhyming dictionary prepares you to write a lyric. At the same time you are brainstorming your ideas, you are also finding sounds you can use later. With solid rhyming techniques that include family rhymes, additive and subtractive rhymes, assonance and even consonance rhymes (especially for l and r), using a rhyming dictionary can be as relaxed and easy as brainstorming with a friend, except it's more efficient than a friend, and it won't whine for a piece of the song if you get a hit.

  A worksheet externalizes the inward process of lyric writing. It slows your writing process down so you can get to know it better, like slowing down when you play a new scale to help get it under your fingers. The more you do it, the faster and more efficient you'll get.

  The sample worksheet on pages 44–45 includes both perfect and imperfect rhymes. Reading this worksheet should be stimulating. But doing your own worksheet will set you on fire. Decide now that you will do a complete worksheet for each of your next ten lyrics, then stick to it. The first one will be slow and painful, but full of new and interesting options. By the third one, ideas will be coming fast and furious. You will have too much to say, too many choices, and too many rhymes. Though getting to this point takes work, it will be well worth the effort. Think of all the times you'll get to say no. No more clichés. No more forced rhymes. No more helpless gratitude that some idea, any idea at all, came along. No more six-hour gigs in Bangor for twenty bucks. Trust me.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CLICHÉS

  THE SLEEPING PUPPY (A CASE STUDY)

  The PBS documentary scene: A black puppy scampers across the lawn chasing a butterfly when, plop, she drops limp on her side, fast asleep. Moments later, she's up and romping. Then again, plop. “Narcolepsy,” intones the narrator, “can strike its victim at any time. She'll sleep a few minutes then get up and move on, unaware that anything happened. Scientists cite a variety of possible causes.”

  The documentary fails to mention the radio playing in the background. Watch and listen closely — the puppy topples over at the lines. “You gotta take a chance / If you want a true romance.” She sleeps until the song finishes, then gets up chasing her tail until she hears “Take my hand / Let me know you understand.” Plop. I may not be The New England Journal of Medicine, but I know why the puppy is falling asleep: clichés. Cliché phrases. Cliché rhymes. Cliché images. Cliché metaphors. These viruses infect songs, television, movies, and commercials, not to mention everyday conversations. And if clichés can put puppies to sleep, think what they'll do to people who listen to your songs.

  Clichés have been worn smooth by overuse. They no longer mean what they used to. Strong as a bull, eats like a horse, and their ship came in no longer evoke vivid images of bulls, horses, and ships. Overuse has made them generic. They suffer from the same malady that infects all generic language: They don't show — they can only tell. How ya doin'? What's up? How's it goin'? These phrases are interchangeable. So are break my heart, cut me deep, and hurt me bad. Your job as a writer isn't to point to a generic territory where images could be, but instead to go there, get one, and show it to your listeners. Clichés don't pump gasoline anymore.

  Songs should be universal, but don't mistake universal for generic. Sense-bound is universal. When you stimulate your listeners' senses, they pick pictures from their own personal sense files. When you use generic language, they fall asleep. There's a difference between this:

  1. Noise and confusion, there's no peace

  In the hustle and bustle of city streets

  It's time to get away from it all

  Deep inside I hear nature's call

  and this, from William Butler Yeats:

  2. I will arise and go now, for always night and day

  I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

  While I stand on the roadway, or the pavements gray,

  I hear it in the deep heart's core.

  Both express roughly the same sentiment, but the first, cliché and generic as it is, can only point to territories of meaning. Yeats takes you there.

  Clichés are prefabricated. You can string them together as easily as a guitarist strings his favorite licks into a solo (two Claptons + one Hendrix + three Pages + one Stevie Ray, etc.). The problem is, it isn't his solo. Using other people's licks is an excellent way to learn, but there is a next step: finding your own way of saying it. Clichés are other people's licks. They don't come from your emotions.

  Look at the sample lists of clichés below. They're all familiar — maybe uncomfortably familiar.

  CLICHÉ PHRASES

  (way down) deep inside

  touch my (very) soul

  take my hand

  heart-to-heart

  eye to eye

  hand-in-hand

  side by side

  in and out

  face-to-face

  up and down

  b
y my side

  back and forth

  we've just begun

  hurts so bad

  walk out (that) door

  can't stand the pain

  can't take it

  feel the pain

  give me half a chance

  last chance

  gotta take a chance

  such a long time

  night and day

  take your time

  all night long

  the test of time

  the rest of time

  rest of my life

  someone like you

  end of time

  no one can take your place

  all my love

  no one like you

  lonely nights

  say you'll be mine

  losing sleep

  I'll get along

  how it used to be

  made up my mind

  calling out your name

  it's gonna be all right

  get down on my knees