GENESIS

ah the creative process
so elusive
so mysterious
so unpredictable
today i was reading the sleeve notes
to leonard cohen's greatest hits
lenny's tantalizingly opaque snapshots
of how his songs came into being
a song started in some canadian hotel room one year
and finished in another pad in nyc a year later
how on earth did that happen?
the funny thing is
i know exactly what len is talking about
the muse suddenly comes
and just as quickly she departs
and ya never know when she'll be back
hammering on yer door
with her persistent little fist
of course
sometimes i can see pretty clearly
where an idea or lyric has sprung from
take a song like corporatocra$y
or flat-earther
written under the influence of tranches of radical politics
other times i'll hear a musical arrangement
and pick up a feel
that sparks off a whole song
even though the eventual product is pretty unrecognisable
for example years ago
i saw a film with sean penn n susan sarandon
called dead man walking
which had an evocative acoustic guitar soundtrack
when the movie was over
i picked up an acoustic guitar
and straight off wrote 'feels like summer' off mustard seed
now i can't tell ya what the precise link was
hopefully i didn't completely rip off dmw
but ya get the idea
last sunday i was in leamington for the peace festival
i'm walking along the parade
enjoying the atmosphere and regency architexture
when suddenly a kind of arpeggioed progression
floats into my mind out of nowhere
it merges with a song i started writing back in the winter
in the absence of my dictaphone
i am paranoid about forgetting musical ideas
so i keep singing this progression through in my head
jamming on it again n again
till it's indelibly printed on my mind
i even work out in my head what the notes n chords are
well then one thing leads to another
and as i walk back to the station after the festival
a catchy chorus melody insinuates its way into my consciousness
a few days later i'm walking to work
bikeless cos my key had snapped off inside the lock
when a middle eight for the same song
suddenly announces itself
the interesting question is
if i hadn't gone to leamington that day
or had to walk to work that morning
would these creative ideas ever have emerged?
or would they have lain dormant forever?
if i were still in sk
what would i have written since last summer?
i know i can sometimes make things happen deliberately
by virtue of perspiration
by applying myself
by sitting down with the aim of writing something
by jamming
by putting pen to paper
by blogging
but as for the muse
her name is...
ruby tuesday