I had heard about this Songwriter’s convention for many years, and truth be told, I’m not really sure why it took me more than twenty years to attend. But this year, the stars aligned, I took the plunge, and spend two and a-half days listening to panel discussions on songwriting and publishing, chatting with industry pros, and meeting other like-minded songwriters. It was exhausting, enlightening, and ultimately ridiculously inspiring.
Most of the few hundred attendees come from either Nashville or LA, and that was as true for the artists as it was for the industry pros. But lucky me - I live just up the road from the Broomfield, Colorado hotel where this all takes place, so I enjoyed the festivities while also getting to enjoy the comforts of my own home each night.
The days were filled with discussions about various aspects of the music industry, which was interesting and I learned a few things. But the big pull for me as a songwriter was the Listening Sessions. During these 2-hour sessions, I spent the time with about 20 other songwriters and two industry pros. One at a time, each songwriter got a total of five minutes - half of which was used to play a recorded version of one song, the other half of which you received feedback from the pros about your song. It was super intense, especially in a room full of songwriters.
Some attendees chose to play the same song during different Listening Sessions, receiving feedback from a total of 6 different industry pros about that one song. Which was interesting, and served it's own purpose. But I chose to play three different songs during my three sessions, in effort to elicit as much feedback as possible that would help me develop as a songwriter. And let’s just say…mission accomplished.
The first song I shared received rave reviews, and by far the most positive comments of the two hour session. Which was amazing, and thoroughly stroked my ego. I was walking on air there for a bit. That high was followed by the two other Listening Sessions, where I got my songwriting ass handed to me, politely, and with a gentle southern drawl.
After ripping the lyrical content of my first and second verses, one Listener said, “…so, you’ve basically got some stuff, and a chorus.” Ouch. Another said, “I feel like you’re skipping across the surface of the water, and I’m waiting for you to jump in.” Another said, “there’s not enough furniture in the room,” which was a really great way of helping explain why he found himself drifting off while listening to my song. This concept, the “furniture” idea, really stuck with me. I tend to write poetically but about feelings and intangibles. Listeners want more anchor points, more stones or picture frames or old dusty boots. Those help us see and feel the song, and we each have our own unique connections to those items, which brings about the emotion.
In short, day two of the expo was a humbling ordeal, and one which had me licking my songwriting wounds for a short time. But the truth that smacked me in the face was that I’ve never really worked that hard at songwriting, not studied the craft of it. But this weekend kicked my ass in all the best ways, and I’ve been on a writing tear ever since. I’m studying about songwriting, practicing songwriting, and all be damned, starting to write better songs.
So thank you, Durango Songwriter’s Expo, and all who played a role in my recent evolution. I’m on fire lately, and I am eager to see where this new road leads.
And in the meantime, please listen to my new friend, Denver songwriter Joel Ansett.
Stay tuned, my friends.
JD