Last time, I told you about how I’d written my new song, “The Fire Tribe”. The back story was a bit involved, as you saw. Lots of people, lots of cryptic references. So what happens when this song hits the stage?
This question is interesting to me not simply because I have to perform the song, but also because my pal Jon Swenson reminded me that according to some views of songwriting, a song should stand on its own, without a need for an introduction. And I realize, now, that I’ve always thought that this is a dangerous, dangerous thing to believe.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I disagree. A song that needs an introduction is at a significant disadvantage out in the world, for the obvious reason that the introduction isn’t always available. It’s evidence of an incomplete idea – if there’s stuff in the introduction that’s required to understand the song, well, it should be in the song, now, shouldn’t it? Sometimes, of course, the song gets too big when you add the extra material; then it’s time to edit. No one said songwriting was easy.
But this all begs the question of whether an introduction enriches a song. And there, I think, is where the danger lies. Songs should be able to stand on their own without an introduction; but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have them, or that the introductions aren’t important. It’s here that the distinction between the song itself and the presentation of the song is crucial. In the presentation of a song, a good introduction can transform the listening experience, and one’s ability to narrate, to provide context for the material, is one of the crucial bits that distinguishes a live performance from a songbook. If you’re going to get onstage and present your material, it’s not enough to think of yourself as a songwriter; you’ve got to think of yourself as a performer as well, because the song isn’t on stage – you are. And whether the song can stand on its own is no longer relevant.
There are some people (me, for instance), for whom the song is enough. If a fabulous songwriter gets onstage and performs, without comment or introduction, a set full of spectacular material, I’ll come back – but only if I can’t get an album. What holds an audience is the entire act – the music, the songs, the voice, the stories. To elevate the importance of one too far about the others is a dangerous thing to do.
I’m still struggling with what to say about “The Fire Tribe”. I do think it stands on its own, but only if you let it wash over you – only I know what “the Bon Jovi army” is; you have to guess. What I do know is that the back story is so vivid, and universal, that if I can’t come up with a great introduction, I’m not much of a performer.