How the Songsage Gets Made

As a powerful producer (think Phil Spector with better hair and a gentler attitude) in the music biz (I’m allowed to say “biz”), lots of people ask me what it takes to make a big hit. While it’s not an exact science, there are a few lessons I’ve learned along the way. 

First thing you need is a star. You surround this star with smart people and lock them in a room for a few weeks straight until they produce a song. It sounds like solitary confinement in prison, except, it’s not solitary and they get to order as much sushi as they can stomach. I haven’t been to San Quentin in a while, but something tells me the unagi is not up to snuff. 

Now that you’ve got your star and assembled your team, you need a good song. There are lots of good songs that no one has ever heard of. In the old days, you could take those and spruce them up to appeal to a wider audience. But with the Internet, we can’t do that anymore. 

The singer has very little to do with the product. They are like the person giving away free ham in the supermarket aisle. You wouldn’t confuse them for the CEO, now would you? They are just our public face. 

My job isn’t too glamorous. But what I love about art is the collaboration process. Now, collaboration has a long a storied history for creative types. It gave us Vichy. When a song is finished it’s never really finished. A song is a living organism. Sometimes we do things to distract people from the lyrics. Think boa scarves, wild hair, or the easy access of hallucinogens. 

The most important aspect of any song is the role the listener has. This goes way beyond holding glow sticks or supporting the traveling mosh pitter surfing the crowd for public acceptance. Most of the songs you think you know were altered by incensed listeners taking offense. Like I always say, “if they listen, we listen.” It’s a simple as that. Did you know that “Like A Rolling Stone” was originally “Like a Walking Stone,” but disabled war veterans objected to the mindless portrayal by the Bard of Duluth. Dylan figured that anyone can roll, with our without the use of their legs. Why did we cave? 

Because, despite the familiarity with heavy artillery, their ears still worked.