Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. A suite of offices appointed with large, brightly colored folk-art paintings of blues heroes Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. It's the headquarters of the legendary songwriting duo Leiber & Stoller, the team who created many of the first and most famous blueprints for rock and roll-songs such as "Hound Dog," "Jailhouse Rock" and "Kansas City"-by building a bridge from the past (the blues) to the future (rock  and roll).

This article was originally published in American Songwriter in 2007.

Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. A suite of offices appointed with large, brightly colored folk-art paintings of blues heroes Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. It's the headquarters of the legendary songwriting duo Leiber & Stoller, the team who created many of the first and most famous blueprints for rock and roll songs such as "Hound Dog," "Jailhouse Rock" and "Kansas City" -- by building a bridge from the past (the blues) to the future (rock  and roll).

Talking today, in 2006, to Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller is an unparalleled experience for many reasons, not the least of which is that there are so many unlikely components to their story.  Like any meeting with legendary songwriters, there is the surreal recognition that their songs are infinite and unbound, yet the songwriters are quite finite and human even, sitting here in the same room-bound by time. Two Jewish boys from L.A. who got famous for writing in a black genre, they are now American icons who are integral facets in the history of rock and roll. Yet with a few exceptions, they've remained silent about the 56 years of their celebrated collaboration and have never really participated in their history as it's been written.

Their feelings about their now-mythic songs are bittersweet-often more bitter than sweet. And almost every one of the published stories which purport to get their history right, are wrong, including those surrounding the writing and recording of their most famous songs, like "Hound Dog" and "Jailhouse Rock" (both recorded by Elvis), "Kansas City" (recorded by The Beatles among many others) and "Stand By Me" (recorded by Ben E. King originally and later John Lennon). The Beatles also cut two other Leiber & Stoller's songs on their first demo, "Searchin'" and "Three Cool Cats."

It is true though, that-as the story goes-Stoller didn't like the idea of writing songs with Leiber when they met in 1950. It's not true however-as has been reported-that he said he didn't like songs. What he said he didn't like were popular songs; he preferred jazz. But when he realized that the young Jerome Leiber had written not lyrics for pop songs but blues, a bridge was built between them that still stands to this day. It's a bridge built on the blues.

Because their most famous songs came fast and easy to them, "hot off the griddle," as Leiber puts it, they don't tend to value them to the extent that they value songs like "Is That All There Is?" an existential theatrical ballad made famous by Peggy Lee. To this day, Leiber, the lyricist, and Stoller, the melodist, yearn to be known as more than writers of simple rock and roll. When I lingered on the writing of "Jailhouse Rock," for example, Leiber looked me squarely in the eyes and said, "Why are you spending so much time on ‘Jailhouse Rock'? Is it that important?" Well, yes. It is. Though they've written some of the most lasting popular songs ever, they didn't think any of them would last. As soon as they were off the charts, they felt they would vanish.

Leiber & Stoller have long felt their famous rock and roll songs were kids' stuff, and they wanted to write songs for adults-deeper, more musically and lyrically complex songs of which there exists an abundance in their mythical "vault." But except for "Is That All These Is?" it's their simple, easy songs that have connected them timelessly to popular culture. Out of the universe of albums that have been recorded containing their songs, the one that they speak of with the greatest pride is Peggy Lee Sings Leiber & Stoller, a collection of their "adult songs" sung by the legendary vocalist.

And while you might assume any songwriter would be forever proud to have had a song recorded by Elvis or The Beatles, they never liked The King's rendition of "Hound Dog," nor did they like The Beatles' recording of "Kansas City" (for reasons explained in the following).  They only wrote "Jailhouse Rock" because the movie's producer refused to let them out of their hotel room until they came up with some songs. "Hound Dog" was written on the fly, and not for Elvis but for Big Mama Thornton.  From the second Jerry uttered its title he didn't think it was sufficiently explicit, and still doesn't feel it is as biting as he wanted-nor does he see much value in other legendary titles he's created, such as "Jailhouse Rock" or "Spanish Harlem." Elvis's rendition of "Hound Dog"-perhaps the most famous recording ever of one of their songs-doesn't even use the right lyrics. Instead it copies improbable lyrics written for the song by Freddie Bell, who introduced the whole notion of a rabbit to the song, a notion that Leiber & Stoller regard as nonsense.

They were the first independent record producers to be officially designated as producers-"producer" being a title they invented themselves (they wanted "director"). But they started producing records only in self-defense, to ensure that their songs wouldn't be wrecked when translated to records. "We don't write songs," Leiber famously has said. "We write records."

Even with their most famous non-rock creation, "Is That All There Is?" they are forever dismayed by Peggy Lee's insistence on changing one word, an alteration-in their opinion-which dilutes the entire point of the song.

To this day, they often finish each other's sentences though their memories frequently clash. "Our relationship is the longest running single argument in the entertainment business," Jerry says, only half-joking.

But the connection that led them to write words and music like one person over the decades, even when they wrote them apart (they separately wrote the words and music to the refrain of "Is That All There Is?" yet then discovered that both parts fit perfectly), remains powerful, and as often as they argue, they laugh. And it's clear that there are few people they'd rather spend time with than each other.

]]> http://www.americansongwriter.com/2011/08/leiber-stoller-second-generation-standards/feed/ 0 http://www.americansongwriter.com/2010/01/the-louvin-brothers-charlie-the-idea-man/ http://www.americansongwriter.com/2010/01/the-louvin-brothers-charlie-the-idea-man/#comments Tue, 26 Jan 2010 15:00:06 +0000 Doug Waterman http://www.americansongwriter.com/?p=3710
Brothers bring the harmony...]]>
Born Charlie Elzer Loudermilk on July 7, 1927, in Section, Ala., Charlie and his brother Ira recognized as youngsters that they had a knack for harmony; Ira would (eventually) bring to the table a high, throaty-not whiny-tenor, upon which Charlie would fundamentally wrap his more melodic tenor strain. The harmonies produced were tighter than tight, but the brothers were able to find something to say too-albeit separately at first-at the tender age of 14.Born Charlie Elzer Loudermilk on July 7, 1927, in Section, Ala., Charlie and his brother Ira recognized as youngsters that they had a knack for harmony; Ira would (eventually) bring to the table a high, throaty-not whiny-tenor, upon which Charlie would fundamentally wrap his more melodic tenor strain. The harmonies produced were tighter than tight, but the brothers were able to find something to say too-albeit separately at first-at the tender age of 14.  Charlie's first song, "A Tiny Broken Heart," was inspired by a girlfriend he had when he was seven year old. Some 60 years later, the tune was cut in 2000 by Dan Tyminski (Allison Krauss & Union Station, Lonesome River Boys) for his Rounder Records release Carry Me Across the Mountain. Talk about enduring... Charlie and Ira's souls were stirred from the outset; the brothers clung to their Opry-fueled radio, taking musical cues from the popular family harmony acts of the day-Monroe Brothers, Blue Sky Boys, Delmore Brothers and more-and probably thinking to themselves at some point, ‘Heck, we can do that.' And they did. They took their first paying gig, a birthday party, in 1940. For the next seven years they played an assortment of small package shows and radio spots, taking them up and down Alabama's Hwy. 59 and finally to Chattanooga and Knoxville, where the scent of Nashville's Music Row lingered nearby-awaiting some new blood. Charlie did a stint in the Army during World War II and the Korean War, while Ira cut sides with Charlie Monroe and his Kentucky Partners for RCA Victor. Upon Charlie's return the duo began writing and performing more seriously, under "The Louvin Brothers" now for the first time. Diligently, slowly but surely, the duo began crafting the songs and records that to this day remain some of the most indelible, creative documents in the American musical canon. From 1948 to 1952 they signed a publishing deal with Acuff-Rose, recorded for MGM, Decca, and finally settled down with Capitol Records in late 1952. And thus the stage was set. 1956 yielded The Louvin Brothers' first No. 1 hit ("I Don't Believe You've Met My Baby") and the release of their Capitol debut (Tragic Songs of Life) which contained the previously-mentioned "A Tiny Broken Heart" as well as the classic "Alabama"-which has since become the state's official song. And the hits kept coming: "When I Stop Dreaming," "Hoping That You're Hoping," "Knoxville Girl," "You're Running Wild," "My Baby's Gone," "Cash on the Barrelhead," "Must You Throw Dirt in My Face," "How's the World Treating You," "Kentucky," "Are You Teasing Me," "Keep Your Eyes on Jesus," and many, many more. The brothers split in 1963 to pursue solo careers, though tragedy struck in 1965 when Ira was killed in a car wreck while touring the Midwest. Like many untimely deaths of that era, Ira's passing deeply affected music community, and we're left to wonder what might have become of the brothers' future collaboration. Luckily, Charlie continued to record as a major label solo artist, producing and estimable, underrated body of work throughout the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s and also releasing a handful of independent album in the ‘90s. The Louvin Brothers became one of the most successful, respected-and many argue the best-duos in country music history. They blurred more genre lines than just about anyone, following their muse wherever it led, be it traditional country, bluegrass, hillbilly, Appalachian, pop, gospel or folk. Their collaborative process, in songwriting specifically, was simple but effective; Charlie was the guidepost, the idea man, the title streamliner. Ira was the interpreter, the melody man, the lyrical talent. They just clicked, and the rest is history... Upon hearing through the grapevine last spring that Charlie Louvin was working on his first (secular) album in quite some, American Songwriter caught up with him at The Louvin Brothers Museum-a quaint, traditional establishment which has been operating since the late ‘60s-located in Nashville's Opry Mills area. He was in the throws of recording a new album, produced by Mark Nevers (Calexico, Bonnie ‘Prince' Billy, Bobby Bare Sr.), and was insistent on just shooting the breeze rather than spilling the beans too early on the new project. At press time a release date for Charlie's new album was set for February 20, on New York-based Tompkins Square Entertainment, and touted guest appearances from a who's who of classic and contemporary aficionados-Elvis Costello, Jeff Tweedy, Will Oldham, Tom T. Hall, George Jones, Bobby Bare Sr., Tift Merritt, Marty Stuart, Clem Snide, members of Bright Eyes and more. So for over or so we chatted about the magic of music, livin', lovin', losin' and the Louvin legacy. Charlie cranked things off... Charlie: Hey I got a story to tell you about the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. American Songwriter: Lay it on me Well this was back in 1975 and my wife Betty said, "Let's go to this dinner," and I'm not much on these things...I didn't own a tux or anything and didn't much want to rent one. She said they want you to induct Ed Bruce into the Hall of Fame, and Ed is a dear friend of mine...I'd do anything for him. I said ok we'll go. We're sittin' in there and they started playing Louvin Brothers music on the loudspeaker. And I see Ed Bruce walkin' up toward the stage. Well I knew we'd been had. Ed was presenting The Louvin Brothers. They tricked me, but it was a nice night...and this gentleman, Thomas Dorsey, a black man who wrote a song called "Precious Lord, Take My Hand," was inducted that night...and the way he wrote it was extremely unique. He was a minister, and he was supposed to preach for a revival in St. Louis-he lived in Memphis at the time-and his wife was extremely pregnant. According to the doctor...well he thought that Dorsey would be able to preach at the revival and be back home in time for the birth of the child-so he went. The service had just started and someone brought him a note that said that they had saved the child, but lost his wife. He told this story when they inducted him. And on the way home from St. Louis, he wrote that song..."Take my hand precious Lord and lead me home..." I thought that was probably one of the most touching stories I'd ever heard. So you were already familiar with Dorsey's songs before that night? I don't know what other songs he wrote, and I'm sure he wrote a buncha others...but that song was one of the songs that we sang as kids at church-and even learned to sing it to a bunch of heathens. So it was well worth the trip. So Ed Bruce called you up onstage...that night is always a nice occasion for songwriters. Are you still close with him? Yes, and he's a helluva dove hunter...he'll tell you that I'm the reason that he came back to Nashville. Do you guys still go dove hunting? Yeah, out at his place. He's got four or five hundred acres west of Nashville. We used to go every year but I missed this past year. Are you and Ed about the same age? No...he's younger. Hell I don't know anybody that's still alive though! I'm 79. But still truckin' and recording huh? Look at Eddy Arnold... Yeah, he's well past 80. He just put out an album too! Yep, and Jimmy Dickens is past 80. He's approaching 90 real quick. You know Capitol has Merle Haggard back on the label? I think classic country music is pretty much holding its own right now. In fact I hear more songs on the radio these days that get back to the classic country. Yeah it seems to be a cyclical thing don't you think? Well it still feels like a lot of music today...has become generic. I'm not knocking any of them, but I'll bet there are about 20 girls out there, and they could play any one of them...and I could guess 10 or 12 times and still not get it right. The music sounds like a canned tune that everybody uses; they use the same pickers and it's almost monotonous. I'll agree with you to a strong degree. There are no Ernest Tubbs, no Red Foleys...no Hank Snows. You [used to be able to] listen to a tune and call the artist [snaps fingers] just like that. I think that it's sad-a sad commentary. Are you writing songs still? I don't write a whole lot of songs anymore. I did for a while. I wrote this one song-I'm probably the only person to bring a question to "home sweet home"-but I wrote this song called "Is Home Sweet Home?" And it told about everything that would-seemingly-make a happy home, but it wasn't a happy home. I sang it for Randy Travis at the Opry one night and he said that he loved the song. He said to bring it to his publisher or producer. So I took it to his producer and he said, "Well it's not really what we're looking for. It's just too country [laughs]. After having a lot of success writing with your brother Ira for Louvin albums, how has the solo writing evolved and affected your process? Everybody knows that my brother was the gifted writer. Stop being modest Mr. Louvin. No, I really believe that songwriters are born. I gave him a lot of...well, any songwriter needs an idea to write. I gave him ideas. I listened to radio quite a lot. Take the song "Just Suppose," which is probably one of the stronger songs we did; the preacher was preaching one morning about the different reasons that people didn't go to church. He said a lot of people didn't go to church because they've got little ones, and the little ones might embarrass and annoy the congregation-and possibly tick the preacher off. I said, "Well, what if God saw it fit to remove your excuse." You know, that your children would pass away. And children are a blessing, and it's a beautiful thing to be able to have them. It would just be too big of a loss to have your excuse removed-your children, just removed. You shouldn't feel that way about your children. And the song just says that it's the wrong way to think. Ira wrote that song as quick as he could write a postcard to his mother.  So he took your idea and channeled it into that song? The title of the song was mine, but he knew how to write it...Between Sand Mountain, Alabama and Scottsboro was the Tennessee River, and there was a ferry...You crossed the river on this ferry. At the very top of Sand Mountain you could see the river. There was a bridge. I said, "I see a bridge!" He pulled over to the side and wrote, "I see a bridge, a way to cross to the other side." It would just show up. You might learn how to be a better writer, but you can't learn how to write. Well what are some songs in recent memory that have really stuck with you? "Riding With Private Malone" is one. The idea came from somewhere...I don't know where it came from, but somebody dropped that idea-and it's a wail of a story. I like that song, "Hello this is Austin calling" ["Austin," written by Kirsti Manna, recorded by Blake Shelton]. I don't like songs that present impossibilities. Well I wrote one, "If It's Impossible." We can't fly, except for in an airplane. Staying with this impossibility idea...being harmful to a song's believability. Well I think that's one of the reasons that most Louvin Brothers songs have lived more than 50 years-because they challenge you. Especially, the Gospel songs challenge you to be a better person. And I think the songs stand on their own; if they've got [the believability], they will stand the test of time. I would usually kick things off with an idea, Ira would get his guitar and play a D, I would follow him on the guitar, and I was pretty good with the lyrics sometimes. I could tell where the tune was going by listening to his tenor, but if I didn't get it, he would wad up the lyric sheet and throw it in the trash. He'd say, "I'll write another one." A lotta times I'd get the paper out of the trash can and iron it out. Two or three weeks later I'd tell him to show me the tune on this one or that one again, and it'd turn out to be a great tune. He was a very lacking on patience. He'd work on one little thing, like a carving, for two months. When you dealt with him it was, "You know it right now or you're not gonna know it." No second chance. Emmylou had her first hit with the Louvins' "If I Could Only Win Your Love," right? Yes. That was her first No. 1. She had recorded other [Louvin] songs; she recorded "You're Learning," "When I Stop Dreaming"... and she married an Englishman...He said, "You're just spinning your wheels recording these guys' songs, old songs." But what she recorded had to live on. If you are an artist, the song is it. I don't care, you can put the greatest arrangement on the worst song that's ever been done, but it's still a bad song. You're playing with your career. I don't care who writes the song. I try my best to find the best song. I don't care who the writer is. If I think it's the best song I'll do it. I think that any artist that doesn't get the best that he can find is messing with their career. The chickens will come home to roost. It seems simple but for some reason it gets clouded sometimes; just cut great songs. I've recorded a load of Bill Anderson, Dallas Frazier and Curly Putman songs...Kris Kristofferson. Nobody's ever lived that wrote a girl and boy song with as much feeling as Kristofferson. When I met Kris he was a freak of nature. He was cleaning the ash trays at Columbia Records. And I had become a solo artist around 1962 or so and was recording for Columbia. He [came up one day] and whispered to me, "I've got a song that you would like. Would you listen to it?" I said, "Go put it in that box." And he laid the tape down with the words. And the studio guys said, "What's up next?" I picked it up and looked at it... "I'm Always on the Outside Looking In"... I put it in the tape player, listened to it a couple times and recorded it. Wow I haven't heard about this. That was early. The first Kristofferson song to get cut! When he was inducted to the Songwriters Hall of Fame, his memory was good enough to remember that. He said, "That little bastard cut that song 10 minutes after he first heard it." Everybody ha-ha'ed about it, but... And he just took off as a songwriter a few years down the road didn't he? Yeah he became a great one. You know Ed Bruce still says that I'm the reason that he lives in the Nashville area, but I don't totally agree with that because the cream always comes to the top. If this guy doesn't sign you, another guy will-if you're good. The cream always rises to the top. The best artist, sooner or later, will find their way to the top. Talent is what it should always be about. I respect talent. The cleverest statement I ever heard made-was Chet Atkins. He was working with this guy, and Chet was picking, and he just made it look so easy. And the guy said, "Mr. Atkins, I'd give a million dollars if I could play like that." Chet without ever stopping said, "Would you give 65 years?" This guy just walked away. That's how long Chet had been perfecting this. That's a statement. Right, it's a combination of talent, hard work and a handful of other stuff thrown in the mix? Anything that you do, you have to pay a price to be good at it. If you screw up, it applies to that to. There's a price to pay in life if you want to be something. You have to study hard to beat the guy who would like to have your job. When my brother and I were growing up-and there wasn't any money to be made in Alabama-we used to work for those gigs. You know, if somebody was having a party or something, we'd say, "Well...do you have any entertainment. No? Well, we'll do it!" I was 10 when we started playing all these little cakewalks and parties, and they wanted you to stand in the corner and just keep the music going. Do you remember when you wrote your first song? The first two songs that we wrote were about my girlfriend...Her name was Nell. One was called "A Tiny Broken Heart." Dan Tyminski [Alison Krauss's guitarist, Soggy Bottom Boy and more] recorded it. You're kidding. Your first song? A "Tiny Broken Heart" tells a story of this seven-year-old, and he's been told that his girlfriend next door is moving away. He told his daddy to buy the farm so she can stay there, and he says that he'll give him all the pennies in the penny bank. He had pennies that his girlfriend had helped him save, and here he is [offering them up] to try and buy the farm. I know that's impossible...but he had a dream. Later, the girl was older and actually moved back to town. I was about 14 when I wrote it. That was Nelly. So you wrote it when you were 14 about when you were seven? Jeez. But we don't know what could have been...I think one of the best songs this century is "Unanswered Prayers" by Garth Brooks [written by Pat Alger, Larry Bastian and Brooks]. That's funny, just yesterday I was thinking about how purely great that song is. I mean, I had this girlfriend, Nelly, and I didn't see her for years and years. I read about her but never touched her you know? I used to dream about her. But I got to meet back up with her years later, in 1968. She was living with her fifth husband in Mobile. That's my hometown. She said, "Why don't you meet me on the other side of the causeway?" At the motel or something. She's very clever. I bought her some clothes and all that stuff, and was just so excited to see her again. Well...she acted just like a call girl. She took her clothes off probably as fast as I could mine. And since then, I've just thought of her as... No more dreams about her I bet. I never dreamed about her again. But it took that to get it out of my system. She was just a gold digger. She liked anybody with a few bucks. "Unanswered Prayers" hits it home there. So many people can relate to that. It sure does. You gotta be careful what you wish for. Is there a song you wish you had written? We got so hung up on "Borrowed Angel" [a 1972 Top 10 hit writtin/recorded by Mel Street]. We played that song so many times. It's just...well it's downright mean. Mel's wife wanted to get a divorce. He didn't want a divorce, under any circumstances. So he called his brother up in West Virginia and he and his wife came to, you know, help talk Mel's wife out of all this. They were all at the breakfast table, just talking about Mel's concerns and on and on, and the girls had just fixed a nice breakfast. Well...Mel just walked upstairs and shot himself. God he was such a young man. Damn determined he wasn't going to get a divorce. There's a song, for sure. You bet.
]]> http://www.americansongwriter.com/2010/01/the-louvin-brothers-charlie-the-idea-man/feed/ 4 http://www.americansongwriter.com/2007/01/swamp-music-the-complete-monument-sessions/ http://www.americansongwriter.com/2007/01/swamp-music-the-complete-monument-sessions/#comments Wed, 24 Jan 2007 19:20:00 +0000 Doug Waterman http://www.americansongwriter.com/?p=3862
LABEL: RHINO RATING: 5 STARS  The Tony Joe White mother lode has arrived. Warner Archives was on the ball in the ‘90s with a round of reissues for his three seminal early albums-Black and White, ...Continued, and Tony Joe-originally released on Nashville's hip alternative label, Monument Records. And now, Swamp Music goes above and beyond [...]]]>

LABEL: RHINO

RATING: 5 STARS

 The Tony Joe White mother lode has arrived. Warner Archives was on the ball in the ‘90s with a round of reissues for his three seminal early albums-Black and White, ...Continued, and Tony Joe-originally released on Nashville's hip alternative label, Monument Records. And now, Swamp Music goes above and beyond by compiling all three (and a fourth "bonus" disc) into a box set that's highlighted by 35 prime, unreleased tracks and a handful of alternate versions. White was a leading figure in the undercurrent of pre-Outlaw movement of singer/songwriters that included Kris Kristofferson, Larry Jon Wilson, Chris Gantry and others. There's an earthy, unaffected quality about the songs written by Monument artists and their production values. Besides possessing pure talent as a writer, White's originality also lay in his gruff, blues-fueled voice, and his ability to adapt it to whatever style tickled his fancy-be it country, pop, funk, psychedelic, soul or blues. Remarkably, many of the unreleased tracks go toe-to-toe with the album cuts; there are plenty of hidden gems in here-White originals but also a plethora of songs by treasures writers like Joe South, Burt Bacharach/Hal David, Bobbie Gentry, Joe Tex, Wayne Carson and others. This unabridged volume is essential for both the seasoned fan and any listener curious about the funkier, soul-drenched side of Music City in the late ‘60s and ‘70s. 

DK Publishing
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

There have been broad overviews of the country music story from birth to date before, even a pretty good coffee table style one (the Country Music Foundation's Country: The Music and the Musicians). But never has there been one as visually lavish and likely to induce readers to dip into it again and again just for the looking as this new 360-page treasure-trove. The key reason-besides obviously loving art direction, and quality paper that makes the photos and art pop-has been unique access to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum's vast artifact collection. Photos of early hillbilly and cowboy bands, of classic Nashville greats, and of today's stars, of historic record covers and posters, and original Hatch print art are all consistently colorful (literally), to the point, and in most cases, have rarely been seen previously. The writing is of a quality to match-with many of the top writer-researchers on country music contributing appropriate chapters-from Bill C. Malone, the late Charles K. Wolfe and Ronnie Pugh on earlier history, to Jon Weisberger on bluegrass, Colin Escott on the Elvis-and-Nashville Sound years, and Peter Cooper on latter-day events in mainstream country and Americana. Some well-planned, creative use of sidebars leads to surprises to encounter as you dip into the pictorial treasures-thoughts on having been country by Rosanne Cash here, a surprise encyclopedia of Willie Nelson singing partners there, brief profiles of key recordings and players, and light but pointed context-setting time-lines of general cultural and political events. This one's a keeper.

There are musicians whose impact is immediate-albeit showman's swagger or a Marshall-melting guitar solo. Songs operate similarly. Some like "She Loves You" reach out and grab your attention after the first bar; others reveal their qualities little by little.There are musicians whose impact is immediate-albeit showman's swagger or a Marshall-melting guitar solo. Songs operate similarly. Some like "She Loves You" reach out and grab your attention after the first bar; others reveal their qualities little by little.

A good number of George Harrison's songs fall into the latter category. Perhaps because of the media circus that surrounded The Beatles, and the attendant mythology that has surrounded his life, the real quality of Harrison's songs has been overlooked. Any listener who gives his work both time and attention will find that Harrison was the most harmonically adventurous of any of The Beatles.

Harrison's formative musical influences were steeped in melody-Hoagy Carmichael and Cab Calloway rubbing shoulders with Hank Williams' country blues. Later, his two primary songwriting models were John Lennon/Paul McCartney and Bob Dylan. Once The Beatles had completed their rise to the top, Harrison received occasional coaching from Lennon as a pop writer ("I Need You"), and by 1965 and Rubber Soul, he was writing strong melodies of his own, as evidenced in "If I Needed Someone." These were a guitar player's songs, driven by chord patterns and arpeggios.

1965 was also the year of Harrison's musical epiphany when he discovered the classical music of India. This was the catalyst and foundation for one of the more distinctive song writing styles in popular music. Although Harrison had never studied Western music in a formal sense, he devoted himself to learning not just the sitar but also the theory of Indian music-in an intense way. His knowledge of the music's structures, techniques and mores was far from superficial.

He came to deeply understand the microtonal scales of the ragas, the ornamental "effects" of Indian soloists, the meend (equivalent to Western glissando) and the gamak (varieties of infinitely subtle and defined string bends or "wobbles"). These effects would receive their fullest expression in Harrison's music through his nonpareil slide guitar stylings that emerged in 1970.

He seemed to relate to and assimilate this "alien" music instinctively and by 1966-1967 was expertly marrying pop sensibilities to Indian forms, particularly in "Love You To" and "Within You Without You." The melody of the latter was sketched out on a harmonium as Harrison sought to frame his melody within a drone.

Another song from 1967, "Blue Jay Way," was conceived on the harmonium but is more significant in that it reveals the depth of Harrison's understanding of Indian music, as well as his ability to express it in a pop context.  The opening sequence of notes imposes part of the scale from an Indian raga called "Marwa" onto a basic C-major chord. He uses notes that are dissonant in the C-major setting (E-flat and F-sharp), pivoting them around a C-diminished chord. Harrison was working at a sophisticated level of extrapolating Indian scales to the Western setting, something no one else had done. It certainly was not rock ‘n' roll, and the quality of his work was now to be found in the details-not in the immediate impact. Perhaps this is why this example of Harrison radically pushing the songwriting envelope is rarely discussed in such terms.

Years later, at the end of his career and life, Harrison returned to "Raga Marwa" and recorded an extraordinarily expressive slide guitar interpretation of it. Found on the posthumous Brainwashed album, "Marwa Blues" is Harrison's finest moment as an instrumentalist and compositional interpreter of Indian music. Notably, by this point Harrison's slide technique was so advanced that his sound was similar to that of an Indian vichitra veena player. This Grammy-winning guitar reading of the raga, set in Western harmony with a blues subtext, completes four cycles around a gently undulating harmonic framework that pivots on a major-to-minor variation. In tandem with his devotion to harmonically unstable diminished chords (and complex chord voicings like minor sevenths with a flattened fifth, also found on this recording), it is perhaps his use of the major to minor change that most encapsulates his cognition of Indian raga structures.

The broad harmonic palette is also found on many of his most renowned works. This virtual 12-tone sensibility was often married with the visual aspects of unearthing chord patterns on a guitar. A case in point is "Isn't It A Pity" from All Things Must Pass, considered by many as one of Harrison's premier works. The song is set in straightforward G-major, but the sixth bar weaves a certain mystery with a chord technically definable as C#minor 7-5 with a G in the bass. The next chord is C major seventh with a G bass. Any guitar player will be able to see that the "mystery" chord was created simply by moving one note of the C-major seventh chord up one fret (the C fingered at the second fret on the A string, raised to the third fret, giving a C#).

This happens when a guitar player goes through an unconscious thought process along these lines: "I wonder what it will sound like if I move that C up a fret." And for someone whose ears had been opened to dissonance as a managed feature of Indian music, Harrison viewed the results as perfectly acceptable.

Growing up, my biggest musical influences were Randy Travis, Johnny Cash, John Anderson, Vern Gosdin and Hank Williams. Today, my influences have not changed.  As I listen to them now-as an adult-I understand more clearly what they were trying to accomplish and say with their music.
Influences That Stick

Growing up, my biggest musical influences were Randy Travis, Johnny Cash, John Anderson, Vern Gosdin and Hank Williams. Today, my influences have not changed.  As I listen to them now-as an adult-I understand more clearly what they were trying to accomplish and say with their music.  It is cool that they have stood the test of time and still have an impact on me.  Their music has not gotten old to me...in my opinion. I don't think they have changed much.  In the time that I have spent with them (Randy Travis & John Anderson), they have remained consistent, and they stick to their guns and do what they do best-write and sing traditional country music.  The production might have changed, but their singing and songwriting is just as good as it has always been, if not better.

Wise Souls & Cheerleaders

My parents and my grandparents have been big influences in my life.  They have encouraged and supported me through this whole journey.  My wife Jennifer is my biggest cheerleader. My musical role model is John Anderson; he's been there, done that.  He's [gone from] having hits and selling records [to being] in between record deals.  He has given me valuable insight the music industry...things like save my money, do it for the right reasons and really appreciate the fans.

Wish I'd Written...

Keith Whitley's "I'm No Stranger to the Rain."  I do it every night in my show.

My Music Row Pick

Personally, I think Shawn Camp is really on top of his game.  He's writing really great traditional music, but it is new and fresh.  He understands the artist side of songs because he is an artist himself.  He knows the kind of songs that singers like to sing-especially artists like myself who are traditional but trying to stay on the cutting edge.

Art vs. Commerce

If you have an artist that understands the art and the commerce side of the business, they will be the most successful...like Randy Travis, Reba McEntire, Alan Jackson, Dolly Parton or George Strait...who have been huge commercial successes.  If you have that kind of artist in the business, it makes everyone else's job easy.  We all learn it as we go along, but if you have an artist who has that understanding, then it is the artist that narrows the gap between the two.

Favorite All-time Songwriter

Johnny Cash.

Practice Makes Perfect

Early on, I ruined my voice by singing the wrong way and went through vocal training to learn how to sing correctly, keep my voice strong and maintain it.  When you rely on your voice to make a living, you have to learn how to take care of it.   Life on the road-you're always talking, doing interviews, liners, meet and greets and then singing...it can start to take a toll.   I always warm up before I sing.  It is not required, but I definitely recommend it.  As far as writing goes, I have a room set up in my house where I can go without any distractions, where I can let my mind actually work.  Just writing as often as you can without forcing it is a big key.  Songwriting is a discipline.  You have to keep at it.  You have to realize not every song you write is going to be a good song.  You hope you come up with a good one every now and then.

Quality Quotables

Vern Gosdin: "I am still crazy/but I am not over you," from "I Am Still Crazy."

Kris Kristofferson: "The beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad so I had one more for dessert/I fumbled through my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt," from "Sunday Morning Coming Down."

Roger Miller: "Pappy was a pistol/I'm a son of a gun," from "Dang Me."

Wish I'd Recorded...

...a Randy Travis song called "Out Of My Bones" [written by Gary Burr, Robin Lerner and Sharon Vaughn] off the You and You Alone album.

Josh Turner's latest album, Your Man is now available online and at music stores

With the release of his 2002 debut O, Damien Rice became one of indie rocks most engaging singer/songwriters, stripping his tracks down to the bare necessities through introspection and profound humility.Label: WARNER BROTHERS
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

With the release of his 2002 debut O, Damien Rice became one of indie rocks most engaging singer/songwriters, stripping his tracks down to the bare necessities through introspection and profound humility. With a discreet and understated genius, the scope of his poetics crept deep into the underbelly of the beast, unearthing the murky quagmires of life with simplicity, honesty and pure humanity-a quintessential recipe for critical acclaim. Four years later, Rice returns with 9, pungently self-aware and with what appears to be thicker skin.

Treading similar terrain stylistically, 9 offers a more vibrant and vigorous attempt at lyricism which-in the long run-may in fact be to the records detriment. Abandoning his downplayed melancholy, has injected a tension and anxiety with even a touch of fury to compliment his underscore of resentment. When taken as a whole, this is an unfortunate discombobulating force. Such changes may attest to a new, overtly meta-cognizant approach toward songwriting for Rice. Where his debut rang true with an endearing morass and casual remittance of bitterness, 9 feels purposeful and contrived. From the over-extension of his voice to the grandiose chorus of "Fuck You" on track "Rootless Tree," this self-loathing exercise in vanity has more akin to Conor Oberst than would be expected or, for that matter, appreciated by Rice's fan base. Such a method may of course be a self-conscious reaction to fame for Rice, a man known to be concerned with his personal authenticity and artistic sensibilities. Regrettably, as a last ditch effort to take control over his public persona, his profundity is weakened as he makes his way down the path of parody.

Cold Wars Kids are the first to admit that, for them, style is almost as important as sound. Co-founded by a graphic designer, Matt Maust, the Fullerton, Calif. quartet has spent the past two years crafting a truly multi-media persona, which carries through the groups' T-shirts, website, and album art into its songs.Label: DOWNTOWN
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Cold Wars Kids are the first to admit that, for them, style is almost as important as sound. Co-founded by a graphic designer, Matt Maust, the Fullerton, Calif. quartet has spent the past two years crafting a truly multi-media persona, which carries through the groups' T-shirts, website, and album art into its songs. As the Cold War Kids' name suggests, it is a dark, gritty image, one rooted in a cold, dark wartime America. So it makes sense that Robbers & Cowards references everything from Billie Holiday to the Velvet Underground to Tom Waits.

Driven by keyboardist Nathan Willett's distressed, nasal voice, Robbers & Cowards is filled with vivid, urban stories of betrayal, like the album's strangely infectious opening track "We Used to Vacation." And, while the Cold War Kids' sound is anything but conventional, the group builds short, catchy singles into its weird time signatures and quirky percussion. Of all the album's tracks, "Hang Me Up to Dry" is the most immediate, an odd bit of vocal jazz trapped within the confines of traditional indie-rock. Similarly, the piano eulogy "Hospital Beds" and the perverted lounge standard "God, Make Up Your Mind" are throwbacks to the days of Benny Goodman repaved with bits of post-modern neurosis.

Even though a number of  Robbers & Cowards' tracks originally appeared on Cold War Kids' early EPs, including the Lou Reed-like ballad "Robbers" and the busy "Tell Me in the Morning," this collection flows like an art-rock concept album: a song-cycle exploring modern, nihilistic America. Sadly, few albums provide a more fitting soundtrack to our country's current socio-political climate.

Joanna Newsom's fanciful gothic folk sound has no real contemporary musical parallel. Neither does her brittle, sweetly shrill warble-perhaps the closest analogies are the eccentric singing styles of Kate Bush or Bjork, but even they don't approach her cracked, childlike vocal instrument.Label: DRAG CITY
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Joanna Newsom's fanciful gothic folk sound has no real contemporary musical parallel. Neither does her brittle, sweetly shrill warble-perhaps the closest analogies are the eccentric singing styles of Kate Bush or Bjork, but even they don't approach her cracked, childlike vocal instrument.

Ys (pronounced "ees") epitomizes the meaning of embellishment-just five songs stretch across 55 minutes. Newsom's harp-laden reveries are clothed in airy orchestral flourishes and born aloft upon French horns, trumpets, dulcimer, marimba and strings, a far more ornate affair than her 2004 Drag City debut, The Milk-Eyed Mender.

Newsom puts her collegiate creative writing training to good use, unfurling fantasies that are equally bewitching and indecipherable. The songs defy easy interpretation (the most lucid, "Monkey and Bear," seems to tell a tale of escape from the circus), and that's just the point-the whimsical, archaic-sounding language itself captivates the ear. She even manages to make a cumbersome word like "hydrocephalitic" sound remarkably light and lilting.

That the harp-rather than, say, the guitar-is Newsom's primary instrument profoundly shapes her baroque, meandering style. For Ys, Steve Albini captured her delicate staccato plucking and singing first, and Van Dyke Parks later added his orchestral arrangements. The result is that Newsom's intimate performances are front-and-center, while her accompaniment is sometimes little more than a glimmer, swelling from nowhere and hovering daintily, before drifting away.

The album artwork-a regal portrait of Newsom painted with 16^th century techniques paired with the embossed, gold-gilded cover of a medieval tome-completes the fairy tale. Newsom's medieval world, though an acquired taste, is a place of vastly eccentric beauty.

"I grew up in the 1960s in southern California listening to Top 40 radio," Diane Warren says. "By the time I was seven, I knew I wanted to be a songwriter. I didn't even know what a songwriter was, but I wanted that word ‘songwriter' by my name."

Mission decidedly accomplished. In fact, Warren is arguably the most successful contemporary pop songwriter working today. The San Fernando Valley native first hit the Billboard pop charts in 1983, when Laura Branigan took her "Solitaire" into the Top 10. It's unlikely that Warren, who has charted more than 100 songs since, could've imagined the heights she would reach; consider if you will just four of her songs: DeBarge's "Rhythm of the Night," Milli Vanilli's "Blame It On the Rain," Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time" and Toni Braxton's "Un-break My Heart."

"I grew up in the 1960s in southern California listening to Top 40 radio," Diane Warren says. "By the time I was seven, I knew I wanted to be a songwriter. I didn't even know what a songwriter was, but I wanted that word ‘songwriter' by my name."

Mission decidedly accomplished. In fact, Warren is arguably the most successful contemporary pop songwriter working today. The San Fernando Valley native first hit the Billboard pop charts in 1983, when Laura Branigan took her "Solitaire" into the Top 10. It's unlikely that Warren, who has charted more than 100 songs since, could've imagined the heights she would reach; consider if you will just four of her songs: DeBarge's "Rhythm of the Night," Milli Vanilli's "Blame It On the Rain," Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time" and Toni Braxton's "Un-break My Heart."

The range of artists who have cut her songs is even more astonishing-Barbra Streisand, Celine Dion, KISS, LeAnn Rimes, Joe Cocker, The Pet Shop Boys, Britney Spears, The Scorpions, Whitney Houston, Belinda Carlisle, Reba McEntire, Eric Clapton and Natalie Cole. Talk about diversity. If that abbreviated list doesn't prove Warren's limitless appeal, here's another to add to it: Meat Loaf, Cyndi Lauper, Gladys Knight and Bryan Adams.

A run-down of her accolades suggests that Warren's most successful collaborations have been for soundtracks. Three of her more familiar, Oscar-nominated tunes include Aerosmith's "I Don't Want To Miss a Thing" (from Armageddon, also charted by country artist Mark Chesnutt), Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" (Mannequin) and Faith Hill's "There You'll Be" (Pearl Harbor). She has been nominated for a total of nine Grammy Awards, six Academy Awards and four Golden Globes. If Diane Warren needed absolute proof that she's accomplished her childhood goal, her 2001 induction into the Songwriting Hall of Fame should have provided it. Her star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame only enforces the evidence.

Who influenced you as an aspiring songwriter?

I grew up in such a great, classic time for songwriting. I listened to The Beatles, my parents playing show tune albums, Motown...I listened to the radio, and at that time it wasn't fragmented the way it is today when you only hear one type of music. You heard The Beatles and Frank Sinatra and Motown and all the hits of the day. The ‘60s was clearly a golden age of songwriting.

Let's talk about the songwriting discipline. You write every day and never travel without a keyboard?

It's hard to get the piano on the plane, you know [laughs]. I'm going to New York in a few days, and I'll have a keyboard put in my hotel room because I have to work. I've always been self-disciplined-a self-starter. Until I found songwriting, I was such a fuck-off. I was kicked out of a lot of schools, and I just didn't care about anything. But when I really got into music, the discipline was just there. No one had to tell me to work hard...I wanted to be great and really learn my craft.

Where do your songs come from-out of thin air or from that discipline?

I believe both. I mean, the ideas come to you, but you also have to work at it. I would say it's like being an athlete; you really have to build your muscles. In songwriting, it is mental muscles and musical muscles, and you have to constantly keep up and work at it. Sure, there has to be inspiration, but a lot of it is just hard work. I usually get to the office pretty early, around 8:15. Morning's my best time to write. I write throughout the day, but I'm not a night person. I don't write much at night. One song at a time, though-they become too schizophrenic if I work on more than one.

What draws you to ballads?

Melodies. I love melodies. I love writing songs for singers and hearing them sing my melodies. I don't just write ballads, but I'm definitely known for them.

Do you feel that melody is the most important part of a song, then, or can it be the lyric?

Both. They have to be important together and they have to work together. I mean, if a song has a good melody and shit lyrics, it's a shit song. Same with a great lyric and a shit melody; that's just not a good song. It's missing. It's not right. That's just not a song yet.

How do you define a great song?

Boy, you feel it, don't you? I guess it's subjective, but there are certain songs that you can't deny. It's like a great movie. It's a perfect balance of art and craft and emotion. It makes you feel something.