Give It a Voice

Today was a step in the direction of self expression. Putting aside the myriad of "to do's" and the pile of "projects yet undone" we turned instead to...the songs from the brown book. You see, this book is a collection of songs released into the decade of the 1980's; these songs had a brief stint of their own on the streets of Nashville. They wandered fancy down Music Row -- shyly flirting with artists of the day. One song on hold for more than a year with a bedazzled cowboy, destined for track number 14 for release; another dancing a two step with a long-haired bell of the ball, these songs represent all that was, and could be -- but never would, unless released from the hallowed pages of the brown book.

The magical story of an aspiring songwriter struggling to make his way in the world sharing a park bench with a creative type with a preference for whiskey. This man was a painter - a savant in a time gone by; a painter of movie posters, in a time when movie posters were painted. As connections go (against his better judgment), said writer arrives for the creative session and meets instead, another bench mate; Entrepreneur-turned Publishing Mogul had a challenge for our writer.

"I've heard you can write a song on a dime" she said; "if I give you a topic, can I see what you can really do?" With nary but a topic and an artist style he composed exactly what she asked for.

This single creative night led to an eight year contract, the signing over of 60 songs in contract, to be shopped along Music Row. With significant interest from artists of the day, our resident songwriter believe he had arrived at the stage door; a starring role for these deserving songs loosed from the annals of the brown book.

As is often the case, greed replaced generosity and the Songwriter's Agent decided to market his own songs under the guise of this Publishing Company; as you can imagine,when the bait and switch was discovered, every song represented in the file was cast in questionable light, and taken off the table for consideration in the marketplace. Time rolls on, and new songs with less complications tickle the ears of the homecoming crowd, and these songs remain imprisoned in the pages of the brown book.

In the nature of a writer exists the tendency to over-think the very debut of their own words; it's as if there is one chance, one "last dance" with destiny. Even new songs have joined the fate of "the brown book," awaiting their magical prom night, watching for a certain prince to come sweep them away.

I say..."Give the song a voice. Set it free." If it moves me, if it speaks to a heart - then has it not achieved it's purpose? Making it's way who can tell if a song resonates, even reverberates with the human experience. Like a child released to explore the universe it has it's own path to explore.