Love. Possibly the most written-about topic on the face of the planet, even though it’s without question the most difficult of subjects to express in words, pictures, or music. How in the world do you elucidate such an insanely deep emotion without belittling or making trite? It’s not easy, I can tell you. I know that now because I finally got around to writing one. CLICK HERE TO JUMP TO IT.
For me, it was an extremely time-consuming process. First of all, forget about emulating all of your favorite love songs. They’re bullshit now. Seriously. Most of them were bullshit when they first came out. In fact, most love songs suck, period. Be honest. Do you like a single one of Paul McCartney’s ridiculous compositions shat from his melodious ass while evacuating with Wings? Just one: Maybe I’m Amazed. Pretty incredible song. Strikes a great balance. More on that balance later.
HEY! I see that look on your face! Don’t get pissed at me! McCartney ADMITTED as much in one of his OWN love songs! He titled it “Silly Love Songs!” So shut up. Sit down, for Christ’s sake. You’re making a scene.
Even the best bands falter when it comes to writing decent love songs. Ask yourself: what is Metallica’s very worst song? Why, it’s “Nothing Else Matters,” of course. Some of the worst bands of all time made nothing but love songs. Ladies and gentlemen, I submit for your disapproval: Air Supply.
And then you have little old me. The Nobody. The no-name Brooklynite via the midwest who walks into the pact room and blows their minds with an explosive mixture of insight, whimsy, and heart. This is my love song. I wrote it for my wife as a birthday gift, and it is far superior to any of Paul McCartney’s sugar-glazed, puerile meditations. Listen:
Fucking amazing, right? It’s quite possibly the best song you’ve ever heard. You may be wondering how I did it. The answer is simple, in hindsight. You need to be inside the Triangle of Taste for Love-Song Construction. Obviously, there are three points to the triangle. Sincerity, cool, and expression. Anywhere inside the matrix merits a level of success, but the closer to the center, the better. I think “She’s The One” hits a bullseye. But not without struggle. The whole endeavor was a walk on the tightrope, and any shift in the balance of the song would have sent me plummeting, flailing and powerless, dying on impact on the hard ground of my wife’s expressionless stare. Revisions to the lyrics were countless. Entire shifts in lyrical focus occurred daily. Keeping the guitar wails inspired with tinges of plaintiveness–but not morose or hopeless–seemed an endless struggle. But more than anything, I wanted to nail the bass line, because this is often the love of my life’s favorite component of a song. And you know, I think I came close.
In any event, my wife seemed to be genuinely touched by the gesture, while she despises Paul McCartney’s silly love songs, and that is all the proof I need. I kicked Paul McCartney’s old, decrepit ass into the gutter. Sorry, Paul. Sucks to be you.