Writing a song. Creating something from nothing. Crafting something tangible to encapsulate, represent and communicate an intangible quality that’s difficult to measure but easy to observe. Some of our favorite songs have been written by a single person capturing a single moment in their lives. A moment that seems to have been captured like a photograph, but composed of words and music rather than images. A song is often a snapshot of an emotion — perhaps a moment of clarity or confusion. While some songs use momentum and soundscapes to create the intended mood, the ones in which the mood creates the music are the songs that persevere in our zeitgeist.
The resurgence of the song “Fast Car,” originally written by Tracy Chapman and now re-released by Luke Combs, is a recent example. Upon listening to the new version one quickly realizes that besides the obligatory “make it country” slide guitar additions, the song is a fairly accurate version of the original. With little changes musically, and with a vocal performance that is, well, good, it quite possibly could be the song and not the singer that carries the weight in this instance. The song itself is a snapshot of those moments in young lovers’ lives when they feel the urge to leave their struggles behind and explore the world. It’s a moment many of us have experienced — the feeling that each day contained infinite possibilities and the promise of escape from whatever bound us.
When I write a song directly connected with one of these life-defining moments, the emotion that accompanies it can be overwhelming. I remember it. I relive it. And I amplify it with the song, ensuring that other people know the feeling as well. There is a feeling of relief and release as I find a home for this to exist, some answer, some resting place for this memory. A certain joy underlines every note as I realize I can express it. By living through this, I can paint that moment, capture it, in a song. That other people may find in my song a place for their own memory to rest as well means I can do something in this world while I am here. I can contribute in some way to all those who have sacrificed so I could do what I am doing. Perhaps I can help to ease a bit of the strain caused by life, and maybe in some way counterbalance the damage I feel I have done in my own life to people I have loved.
Of course, this is not to say that all songs are written this way or that all the songs written this way are good. And certainly not all of mine are. I think it does say music that seems to spring forth from this place in our humanity shows us that if we had not lived it, we would not know the joy of using it to create something where there was nothing before.
