Reflecting on a recent viewing of The Nutcracker on December 24th, I’ve found myself contemplating my own songwriting style within Car Seat Headrest. “Making a Door Less Open” (MADLO) marked a conscious shift in my approach to lyricism. I became deeply focused on crafting words that precisely fit the melodic contours of the music. Think of a rhythmic phrase like da DAH, dah DAH, dah dadada dah dah dah – I would meticulously sculpt lyrics to mirror this rhythm, eventually arriving at lines like “I crawl, I crawl, an animal to ya…”.
In my earlier songwriting days, I might have resorted to nonsensical phrases to match a melody, or conversely, abandoned a compelling melody in favor of lyrics conceived purely as text. With MADLO, my ambition was to imbue the lyrics with an almost incantatory quality. I wanted to avoid sacrificing a strong melody for the sake of logical phrasing, yet ensure the words still carried meaningful weight, transcending mere placeholder status or circuitous expressions. This endeavor to meticulously fill each line, word by word, seeking the precise term that enhanced meaning without disrupting the melodic flow, became a central challenge of that record.
However, as I delve deeper into writing for a new Car Seat Headrest album, I’m recognizing a fundamental aspect of my natural style: lyrical phrases that resist seamless integration into the melodic momentum. These are the phrases that possess a certain angularity, that “jut out oddly into the room.” This realization helped me understand why, upon finishing the songs for MADLO, I perceived them as possessing a folk song-like quality. A hallmark of folk music lies in its adherence to a tight rhythm and meter, which facilitates memorization and oral transmission from singer to singer. Repeating melodies are inherently easier to recall than complex strings of words, making them ideal for communal singing and participatory music-making.
The further music deviates from these simple, standard rhythms, the more it transitions into a realm of solo performance. It moves away from the collective spirit of folk dances and towards a more practiced, virtuosic display of emotion, akin to ballet dancers or opera singers. Instead of shared participation, we find ourselves in the roles of observers, reflectors, and meditators. The immediate thrill of the dance gives way to a richer, more nuanced appreciation of specific emotions.
Now, I’m excited to leverage the melodic clarity I honed while writing MADLO – the ability to perceive and develop songs from distinct melodic lines – and intentionally deviate from it. I want to explore my natural inclination to complicate and obscure simple forms, transforming them into something more intricate and gnarled within the framework of Car Seat Headrest’s music. My primary aversion is venturing into territory that feels arbitrary or random, devoid of the connective tissue that defines art. The elements within a song should always evoke the sense of being merely the visible tip of a much larger, unseen structure. A song’s structure should feel divinely ordained, dictated by unseen forces rather than the composer’s fleeting whims, as if bowing to ancient, invisible guideposts.
Imagine if we were unable to see trees, but could perceive the wind. The wind itself would narrate the story of the trees, revealing their forms and presence. This is the essence of what a song should aspire to be: a wind that allows us to perceive the invisible branches of life. A songwriter, therefore, must develop a sense of these “trees”—understanding life, meditating, experiencing, and cultivating a connection with the unseen. Simultaneously, they must study “wind”—analyzing songs with the meticulousness of a mechanic dismantling cars. Over the past few years, I feel I’ve made significant strides in learning how to construct a song to fulfill my creative intentions, rather than struggling against it, like a pilot battling a poorly designed aircraft. Now, I believe I possess at least a foundational understanding of “flight,” granting me greater clarity as I circle around these profound subjects, hoping to return with a small piece of their essence captured in song form for Car Seat Headrest.
