I wonder what it’s like to write a great song.
I wonder if Tracy Chapman knew what a beautiful thing she had created when she was hammering out “Fast Cars” on acoustic guitar for the first time. Did she feel empowered to have written something so wonderful? I wonder what Primitive Radio Gods felt like after recording “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand.” Were they afraid that they may never write anything that good again? Does an artist give up because they feel they’ve already done their very best?
At which part of the process does that artist realize how great the song is? Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls admitted that he never thought his song “Name” was anything special. He just stuck it in the middle of “A Boy Named Goo” to take up space. Now it is one of the band’s most beloved songs. I wonder if the process was different with “Iris” (gag all you want, but it’s moving). Did he have a hunch that he might have something great on his hands while the song was still in its premature stages? Did that feeling not come until the grand string sections has been added?
Perhaps an artist never really knows that something is great unless the audience gives its blessing. But what if that artist-audience communication never exists? It’s possible that a musician’s song is moving someone in the world and he or she will never know about it. An artist may write a song off without ever knowing that it’s someone’s favorite.
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