Tag Archives: process

Big Green albums are hard to finish. Here’s why.

Did you survive the total eclipse of the sun? Well, if you’re reading this right now, chances are the answer is yes. Now that we’ve fully recovered from that harrowing experience, the time is right to talk about music. (As the killer probe Nomad said on classic Star Trek, “Think about music…”)

Let’s face it – albums are never easy. They require time, patience, and great care, not to mention a crap load of luck. Of course, that dynamic is not exclusive to Big Green. What sets us apart is our process for completing an album. What process, you may ask? Allow me to offer you a brief look under the hood of this smooth-running machine.

Joe on keys

I’ve written at length in previous posts about how mother-effing slow we are. And while sloth may be our secret sauce, here are three key elements that go into building a Big Green album:

1. Specific Gravity

While it’s kind of hard to measure, we like to ensure that our songs maintain a high level of density relative to that of water. Often that process prompts us to add strings, horn sections, chunky guitars, or over-driven organ parts. We come up with arrangements, track them, then burn a rough mix to CD-R. If we drop the disc in a bucket of water and it bobs to the surface, we know our work is not done.

2. Valence

As we record a song, we ask ourselves, “How well will this song bind with other songs on the same album?” After noodling this for a few minutes, we try to put some concrete numbers together. We usually start with the total number of tracks on our last album (in this case, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick had 21). From that number, we subtract the number of valence electrons associated with a specific track. (Note: if you try this at home, you may need to borrow an electron microscope.)

3. Lyric Intelligibility

Hey, we’ve all been there, right? You listen to a song for a year, a decade, three decades, then one day you discover you’ve misinterpreted the lyrics. Instead of “There’s a bathroom on the right”, he’s singing “There’s a bad moon on the rise”. Well, here at Big Green, we try to keep that to a minimum. And when I say minimum, I mean a minimum of thirty instances per album. Sure, it takes work, but the more you confuse people, the more memorable you’ll be.

Matt and his Gibson.

Stream Our Asses

Hey, don’t forget – you can find Big Green’s full catalog on many (if not all) of the major music streaming platforms, including:

Add us to your playlists!


(Image by Julien BLOT from Pixabay)

And having writ, the hand moves to Jersey

Get Music Here

Yes, that’s a whole different approach. I never thought of doing it that way. Yes, very innovative – thank you for the suggestion. Of course I’ll give you credit. I’ll write it in the sky if you insist. You insist? Hoo boy.

Lesson number one for you young songwriters out there: never take advice on your craft from a robot. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has been putting his two cents in a lot lately, and frankly, it’s worth every penny. We’ve been trying to pull together some new songs for our next project (another word for “album”), and he’s suggesting to me that I should start every song on kazoo.

It’s all about process. Sometimes.

Now, everyone has his/her process. We’ve discussed ours on this very blog. Some songwriters have a favorite instrument, some a favorite room. Some like to start with the music, then the lyric, others the opposite, and some a random mix. Marvin obviously prefers the kazoo. I think it’s fair to say that my brother Matt did at one point in his career. The thing is, Marvin doesn’t need a kazoo to make a kazoo-like sound. He’s got a sound generator that can imitate everything from a Blue Whale to a mosquito. (You should hear his 1993 Buick Regal. It’s spot on!)

My process? Well, mostly it’s not doing anything. But when I do write songs, I typically start with a blank piece of paper. The paper stays blank for a few weeks, until I awake from a nightmare at 2 a.m. and start scribbling randomly. The next morning, I will puzzle over the illegible nonsense I scrawled out the night before, then ball up the paper and chuck it in the trash. That’s usually when I pick up a guitar. Don’t try this at home!

Those instruments!

Some of you might think that it’s better to write songs on an instrument you know. I am living proof that that’s not necessary. The fact is, I don’t know any instruments all that well. Sure, I’m on a first-name basis with a guitar or two, and my piano is a childhood friend, but that doesn’t count for much. Like many songwriters, I reach for the closest instrument in the room and start noodling. (Pro tip: If I stumble on something good, it usually means it’s been used before.)

Worried about plagiarism? Remember what Woody Guthrie said:

I never waste my high priced time by asking or even wondering in the least whether I’ve heard my tune in whole or in part before. There are ten million ways of changing any tune around to make it sound like my own.

Yeah, I’ll take some of that. You might also want to remember what Tom Lehrer said:

Plagiarize
Let no one else’s work evade your eyes
Remember why the good lord made your eyes
So don’t shade your eyes
But plagiarize, plagiarize, plagiarize

I can't play this bloody thing!

A case of projection

Is this a roundabout way of saying that we have an album project in the works? Well, dear reader, that would be telling! After all, we have about a hundred Ned Trek songs in the can, waiting to be released in some form, including about seven or eight that have never seen the light of day. And then there’s all that new material from Matt (a.k.a. the songwriting machine of Central New York).

Damn it, man … we have so many irons in the fire, there’s nothing left to do the ironing with. Now we have to throw all those wrinkled clothes in the fire with ’em.