This time on Before Your Very Ears, hosts Sean Watkins and Peter Harper give love a chance. Helping them learn the ways of love is Nick Thune, comedian and musician, who spearheads the songwriting session—but not before sharing some of the best bird-related jokes you’ll ever hear.
The trio settles on a Steve Jobs-ish strategy of starting with the finished product, and working their way backwards. The end goal in this case? A love song, but a different kind of love song. The objective prompts interesting discussions: What’s a typical love song, and therefore what will make for an atypical love song? Romantic ballads are usually filled with rose-colored reflections and sweet sentiment, and this one isn’t too different, but there’s one key thing missing: a love interest.
That doesn’t stop the song’s protagonist, whose hunt for love unspools over a verse that eventually slows to a speak-singing 6/8 sway, and a radio-ready power-pop chorus. If you’ve ever wondered how to write a classic love song, well… look elsewhere. But if you’re keen on figuring out how to write a memorable, distinct one, this is your episode.
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John Bohlinger puts an AI tool to the test—and finds a dog that says meow.
The AI driven paradigm shift is upon us, and it’s happening much quicker than we anticipated. You’ve undoubtedly seen AI make amazing stuff, but I was shocked when I checked out AI songwriting site suno.com. When prompted, I typed: “An acoustic-rock-style song. Dog is a compassionate counselor to humans but secretly a serial killer.”
In roughly 20 seconds, Suno gave me two renditions of “The Whispering Canine.” The two-minute, three-verse versions of the song had a full-band recording, with a lead vocal bleeding with angst and well-placed harmonies. The lyrics were, for the most part, great—way better than any first draft I’ve had in a co-write.
If you want to hear “The Whispering Canine”, here’s a link: https://suno.com/song/4a8d8c14-e4b0-49db-9c33-57d36714f627
In the shadows, he hides,
A faithful companion, by your side
With empathetic eyes, he'll understand
But beware, my friend, of the murderous plan
He listens to your deepest thoughts
A compassionate counselor, never caught
But deep inside, his twisted scheme
He waits for the moment, to fulfill his dark dream
He licks your wounds, with gentle care
A loyal confidant, pretending to share
But as the night falls, he stalks his prey
A secret killer in the guise of a stray
The one glitch is that the AI used a solitary black cat in a scary alley rather than a dog. I don’t know if it mistook the image for a sinister dog or thought a cat was a better choice. Let’s face it, cats are far more likely to be serial killers than dogs. So maybe this gentle nudge from AI was a polite improvement. Of course, the title should probably be changed to “The Feline Whisper.”
“If I were still writing for a publisher, my songwriting would probably start with Suno … but I’d miss out on the journey, and that’s the best part.”
So what is Suno? Suno is a web-based, text-to-music generator that can whip up full songs in seconds from a simple text prompt. With the free version, Suno retains ownership of its masterpiece, but the sound recordings can be used for lawful, non-commercial purposes, with attribution credit to Suno. For $8 per month, Suno subscribers own the sound recording, as long as they comply with the terms of service. You can also use the songs commercially, for example, on YouTube or even uploading them to Spotify or Apple Music. The Suno site says: “Unleash Your Creativity: Dive into the world of music-making and let your imagination run wild. Happy composing!”
If this is composing, then ordering takeout is cooking dinner. AI creates songs much like humans do in a songwriting session. But instead of one to three people digging through their notes of clever words, phrases, and melodies they have heard, AI gleans the info from every song, movie, book, etc., and combines the pieces. The only ingredient missing is personal experience. AI uses the thoughts and experiences of everything that’s ever been written that makes it online.
AI is not bad for art. Art is going to be fine. AI will produce amazing work alone and in collaboration with humans, and humans will be inspired to stretch the envelope to outdo AI. But I do feel bad for my daughter’s generation. If I were still writing for a publisher, my songwriting would probably start with Suno, then I’d tweak the results, like adding a chorus to “The Whispering Canine.” But I’d miss out on the journey, and that’s the best part. Songwriting is an opportunity to deeply analyze the most interesting part of life: love, loss, heartache, compassionate serial-killer dogs, etc. Songwriting is hard and time-consuming, but it’s good for you to do hard things. The law of the universe is you get out of it what you put into it. If AI does all your heavy lifting emotionally and mentally, all you get is “The Whispering Canine,” not the experience, not the personal growth, not the challenge, not the sense of accomplishment, and, in the end, not the joy of creating something.
The accomplished songwriter demonstrates his visual approach to songwriting while creating a barroom ballad.
Ever wondered how songwriters capture scenery and stories so vivid that they seem to jump out of the song and into real life? Cary Brothers can offer some insight. In addition to releasing three full-length solo albums, the Los Angeles-based musician’s songs have been featured in dozens of film and TV productions, including Grey’s Anatomy, ER, Scrubs, One Tree Hill, Smallville, 90210, Garden State, and more.
Brothers moved to Los Angeles to work in film, but eventually turned to focus on writing music. His experiences in Hollywood gave Brothers a keen visual sense in music—and a deep appreciation for how sounds and visuals can augment one another. This time out on Before Your Very Ears, Brothers joins hosts Sean Watkins and Peter Harper to talk about how to balance the desires of both our eyes and ears while arranging tunes.
The end result is a deliciously striking last-call serenade. It starts with a Pogues-esque keys motif, then blossoms into a Waits-meets-Springsteen, back-of-the-bar heartbreaker. The details get filled in as the writing session goes on—the local watering hole with its broken jukebox and laissez-faire doorman—and before long, the cinematic, lonesome ballad takes shape.