Simple Acts of Strength

I used to equate good songs with sophisticated songwriting. If you had asked me what sophisticated meant, I’d have described it as chords I could barely play, completely original melodies and harmonic movement, and a lyric theme nobody had ever expressed before. Clearly by that measure, I wouldn’t be threading my own needle any time soon. It took awhile to recognize that complicated didn’t equal inspired, and simple didn’t equate to forgettable.

Much commercial songwriting teaches the habit of repetition in our songs, from melody to lyric and chord progressions. Without repetition, our songs would lack a distinct melodic theme, focus of message, and especially vibe. But it would also lack other, more hidden things, such as forward momentum, prosody (the agreement between music and lyric message), and intentionality. Repetition is a good thing that helps our songs define what they are, and also what they are not.

So the challenge for us songwriters becomes “what repetition reinforces the intent of this song, without oversimplifying and weakening the value?” That’s a great question, and to consider it, I’d like to take a look at the chorus where all that repetition can often be put to good use.

There is no one on this developed earth who doesn’t know the song “Let It Be,” from The Beatles. The chorus, or refrain, is simply repetition of the title itself. When I choose this kind of structure for my own songs, there’s a little voice on my shoulder chiding my decision, saying that I’m taking the easy way out. Instead of saying to that voice “yes I am, and it’s what the song needs right now,” I’ve been known to write with my tail between my legs a more complicated version of a chorus. I might add lyrical ideas, take some unusual twists with melody and chords, and keep trying to avoid the feeling that it’s not getting better, just different. When the measure of a good song is complexity, our instincts have to throw their hands up and leave the room. When you find yourself alone while your instincts are in the break room waiting out your newfound independence, it’s never a good thing. Best to put down the pen and come back when you’re ready to collaborate.

One of the reasons simple choruses work so well is that they’re not trying to explain anything further. They don’t add new information and don’t need to resolve the story. Instead, they allow the listener to stay inside the feeling the verses have already created.

If we listen to the verses of “Traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo, there’s a lot happening emotionally. It’s a very personal, vulnerable song in which she is the main character. She’s moving through a kind of slow realization of what took place in her relationship that has fallen apart.

The verses are only doing the work of helping us understand the situation. When the chorus arrives, it doesn’t try to bring resolution or sort any of that out. Instead, it simply names the central emotional truth, “You betrayed me.”

That’s it, as if I didn’t already know. But that’s the point with choruses. They tend to lay out in plain language what the verses were suggesting or intimating. That’s what can result in a tight, focused, very satisfying chorus message that neither adds or holds back too much.

When a chorus doesn’t feel like it’s working, many of us instinctively try to add more insight, more explanation, more language to make sure the listener understands. But this often leads us to introduce new ideas that weren’t even set up in the verse. Instead of drawing the listener in, the chorus starts to push our listeners away by making the song too big and too vague, both lyrically and musically. Taking away a line, repeating what’s already been said, and letting ideas stand on their own are the way to refocus and strengthen.

Next time you write, try asking a few simple questions to test each line of your chorus. “Am I explaining the feeling, or naming it?” If a line is trying to explain something, especially as a way of compensating for something that hasn’t been clearly set up, let it go. Use that idea in the verse instead, and return to language that is direct and even literal. You might try finishing a sentence like, “The heart of the matter is…,” “What I really feel is…,” “In the end, all I want to say is…”

What comes out of that tends to point very clearly toward your chorus, and often reveals your true title. Trust that the listener doesn’t need more explanation to connect with your lyrics, melodies, and chord progressions. Simple and concise can be the most powerful choices leading to a memorable song. In other words, consider that sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is to simply let it be.