Lady GaGa’s new album The Fame Monster is an album I took a long time to come around to, but I have finally learned to appreciate its merits and its songcraft a lot more than that of The Fame.  I still think that Lady GaGa is somewhat gimmicky and repetitive, but the talent is evident in the music and I really like even “Speechless” (which I couldn’t stand to listen to for the first couple of months).  Lead single “Bad Romance” may repeat elements of “Poker Face” and “Paparazzi”, but I love the song and there’s a certain cinematic element (I’m talking beyond that of the Hitchcock references in the lyrics).  So when I am listening to / singing along to the songs, I imagine performing it and slowly but surely, a whole storyline began to unfurl in my head – so I thought it would be fun to get that down on this blog for you all so you can get a little taste of how my creative brain works

—

Intro

Video fades in on an office scene for some sort of Soviet / Eastern-European corporation.  Two very big, very important looking men are sat at a conference table in the centre of the screen having an argument and barking into mobile phones in Russian.  In the back left corner of the screen sits a handsome man behind a desk, wearing a grey designer suit and thick, black-rimmed glasses, reading a set of papers intently.  In the back right corner of the screen sits Me, also in a black designer suit and glasses, typing furiously on a desktop computer.  After an intense conversation, the big-wig sat on the right of the table stands up, clearly frustrated, and walks over to me and barks a string of orders at me.  I stop typing, exasperated, stand up and look my boss dead in the eye.  Without another word, I pick up my Gucci shoulder bag from the floor, take off my glasses (never breaking gaze with my boss), put on a set of huge black Prada sunglasses and walk out of the office – I have apparently quit.  As I walk out, the other secretary-guy looks at me in shock / awe.

Shot of me walking out of a faceless skyscraper, half-running as I hit the street.

Back to office, the other guy frantically grabs his papers, collects his back and runs off after me.  Both of the Russian CEOs look on in shock, then after a beat begin barking into their phones once more as servants bring them tea / vodka / some unidentifiable drink in a steaming clear square glass mug.

—

Song starts / 1st verse

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Caught in a bad romance

Ra Ra-ah-ah-ah
Roma Roma-ma
GaGa
Oh la-la
Want your bad romance

I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it’s free
I want your love
Love love love
I want your love

Shot of me walking purposefully down the street as music begins to play.  Cut with shots of my peer trying to catch me up, running after me, dropping papers and having to stoop to pick them up as pedestrians crowd around him.  Slow motion – a tear begins to fall from his eye.  Intercut with me running up the stairs to my flat, getting changed, putting on new clothes: shiny, black, designer, silver jewellery. As I turn around to go out the door, presumably for drinking and dancing, my colleague is there. We look at each other: close up on his face, on my face.  Another tear falls from his eye.  I close my eyes slowly.  He kisses my cheek.  I move my lips to his ear and whisper something.  Fade out…

2nd verse

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want your leather studded kiss in the sand
I want your love
Love love love
I want your love

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want it bad
A bad romance

The camera spins around disorientingly to reveal a dark mirrored ceiling, green laser beams shooting here and there, people in various states of undress and sobriety dancing, drinking, shouting, kissing, fumbling, conversing.  Slow motion of a cocktail that contains coke falling on the floor intercut with my colleague / boyfriend standing by a booth, looking anxious.  As the glass hits the floor and the liquid spills out, cut to a scene of me in a bathroom staring hard at the mirror in an accusatory manner.  Close in on my eyes (wearing blue contacts).  I lip synch the words “I want your love”, then strut out of bathroom and grab boyfriend’s hand, who smiles.

1st chorus

I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your lover’s revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Roma roma-ma
GaGa
Oh la-la
Want your bad romance

We make our way through the club, pushing our way through the crush of people unwilling to give way. Close up on our linked hands, my set lips, his eyes looking to me.  As we walk past, slowly each member of the crowd’s head turns to watch us pass by.  We stumble out of the club into the cool night air, the sky pitch black.  Limousines line the pavement and there is a queue of important looking businessmen, all in shades Karl Lagerfeld-style, all pouting and puffed up in their suits waiting to get into the bar next door to the club we have exited.  As we stumble drunkenly past, laughing and holding onto one another, the camera focuses behind us as one of the businessmen, in an Armani suit and black fur overcoat, leans out of the queue and raises his sunglasses so that his eyes are visible.  He looks in shock, then automatically whips out his iPhone and taps furiously on it.  We go on, laughing deliriously as we smoke our cigarettes and totally oblivious to what has just happened.  The camera cuts back to the man, who raises the phone to his ear, begins to talk, and slides the sunglasses back down to hide his eyes, puffing on a cigar.  Fade out as the screen spins and we wander back into the block of flats where I ran to after quitting my Soviet secretary job.

3rd / 4th verse

I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cuz you’re a criminal
As long as you’re mine
I want your love
Love love love
I want your love

I want your psycho
Your vertigo shtick
Want you in my rear window
Baby you’re sick
I want your love
Love love love
I want your love

Some time appears to have passed.  Back outside the club, same line of limousines, same pitch-black sky, same drunken revellers falling out of the nightclub.  An identical queue of identikit businessmen line the streets waiting for the bar.  A limousine pulls up in front of these businessmen, and the door opens as the man in the fur coat from the queue prior steps out.  From nowhere, paparazzi and a multitude of flashing lights appear as microphones are thrust towards the door of the limousine.  A beat, and then I climb out in skintight black jeans and a leather trenchcoat and dark sunglasses with leather cuffs.  I smile dazzlingly for my entourage as minders, having appeared from nowhere, clear a path through the paparazzi for me.  Freeze frames as flashing lights illuminate me shielding my eyes, signing an autograph, waving to the surrounding crowd.  Behind me, my boyfriend gets out of the car, a serious tight-lipped expression on his face, and he lunges forward and clasps my hand to pull him through the crowd, but I get knocked over and our hands come apart (close-up).  Cut to the VIP section, purple velvet ropes cordoning off us from the rest of the club: within the area is a giant plush black leather sofa in front of a table piled with bottles, cocktails, glasses of unidentifiable substances, a smear of white powder.  Sat on the sofa is me, my boyfriend (sat apart and not engaging in eye contact) and a heavy-set, stoned-looking bodyguard half-asleep.  Businessmen talking into phones mill around while the crowd dances, lights flash and I stare into the distance.  I fumble for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, and I reach over to whisper in my boyfriend’s ear, but as he is about to respond (a smile flickering across his face), one of the businessmen reaches over and shakes my hand and begins to talk.

2nd chorus

You know that I want you (’Cuz I’m a free bitch baby)
And you know that I need you
I want it bad romance
Your bad romance

Roma roma-ma
GaGa
Oh la-la
Want your bad romance

Exasperated, my boyfriend gets up and stalks out the back of the VIP area; concerned, I brush aside the businessman and go after him.  Walking to the smoking area, I fumble to light my cigarette as I walk through a walkway framed on either side by barbed wire.  Camera flashes go off continuously, hands clutch excitedly at me through the gaps in the barbed wire; one of them grabs my shoulder and I fall to the ground, dropping my cigarette.  I scrabble around on the ground for it and look up.  The camera pans up from the ground (my line of sight) and a Gucci shoe trails upwards to a shin, knee, leg.  The camera scrolls up to reveal my boyfriend looking down at me.  Close-up of his disapproving gaze.  I gather myself on the ground, a tear forming in my right eye, and begins to roll down my face – the camera does not pull away.  He walks past me as I kneel on the ground, bereft and lost, puffing desperately on my cigarette, and I begin to crumple and cry.  Eventually I go to run after him, but I can barely hold myself upright.

Bridge part 1

Walk walk fashion baby work it
Move that bitch c-razy
Walk walk fashion baby work it
Move that bitch c-razy
Walk walk passion baby work it
I’m a free bitch baby

Hands clutch through the barbed wire as I start to run, and this time the walkway seems to be interminable.  Intercut with footage of me running is a shot of a police car parked stationary; a black police hat, a set smirk on an unidentifiable male face.  From nowhere, policemen rush through the walkway at me, the hands retreat and the camera flashes stop.  Beating me with truncheons, I crumple once again to the ground, my sunglasses and hair askew, my clothes slightly torn.  One of them handcuffs me, and as I lie on the ground, cuffed, hands start to creep back through the wire to grope at me.  Fade out.

Bridge part 2

I want your love
And I want your revenge
I want your love
I don’t wanna be friends

Je veux ton amour
Et je veux ta revenge
Je veux ton amour
I don’t wanna be friends
(Want your bad romance
I want your bad romance)
Want your bad romance!

A television in the corner of a mystery white room flickers on and off with footage showing “Alan has been arrested” ; “Star meltdown” ; “Dumped and detained!” among other headlines.  Close up on my face, clear and almost angelic, mouthing the song lyrics. My eyes are a liquid electric blue, my skin is pale and sunlit.  The camera pans out to reveal that I am in a straight jacket in a white, padded room with just a television in one corner, and a fold-out bed / sofa in the other, all white.

3rd Chorus

I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your lover’s revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Caught in a bad romance

Grief-stricken, I throw myself around the padded room, bouncing off walls, pounding the floor, tearing stuffing out of the pillow with my fingernails.  The camera retreats further back to show the room with a giant glass window looking in; doctors pace outside tapping pens against clipboards, looking unconcerned and business-as-usual. Tears roll down my face as I sing pleadingly into camera.  At the phrase “Caught in a bad romance”, the music stops, and all that can be heard is the sound of my breathing as I look full-face out of the screen.  The camera switches to my view, and outside the cell stands my ex-boyfriend, looking in at me.  A smile of sympathy plays across his lips, and at the same moment we press our hands together, regretfully, against the glass.  A doctor then comes and escorts him away, and I follow his gaze as he is shepherded down the corridor, looking back at me.  The camera zooms out further to show that in the two cells either side of mine are the two Soviet big henchmen from the intro office scene, barking Russian into their phones just as they were in the office.  The whole scene fades out to white…

Event: Songcraft Mini-Concert ‘09 “Originally Yours”
Date: 21st Nov ‘09
Time: 730pm-930pm
Venue: Play Den@Arts House

What can I say?

Another annual Songcraft concert (our 3rd one so far), another highly-memorable event.

Now I am quite an easily-satisfied person, but in all honesty…I really felt that everything went PERFECT tonight.

From the moment I stepped into the Play Den at 4:55pm, and I saw all 3 mics set up nicely on 3 mic stands with 3 accompanying music stands, I knew it was going to be a good night.

(That was exactly what I had requested for from the Arts House folks.)

My biggest worry was the turnout, cos I was worried about both overcrowding and undercrowding. (You can never predict how many people will turn up for something like this, cos it is not a ticketed event.)

But it turned out beautifully…cos the Play Den was filled just nice for the entire night.

Amazing.

A lot has to be said about the beautiful venue, i.e. the Play Den.

I thought it was a pleasant upgrade from the Choral Studio at the YMS.

Not to say the Choral Studio was inferior…but it probably didn’t suit our needs as well as the Play Den did.

The atmosphere in the Play Den was remarkable.

The lighting was great, and ambience was cosy, and the acoustics were fantastic.

I really think a lot of the success of tonight’s concert could be attributed to the venue.

And of course, the stars of the show were the 20 songs by the various songwriters…and they certainly didn’t disappoint.

We were treated to songs of various genres and themes, but all beautiful nonetheless.

At the end of the day, we’ve not lost our focus – it’s always about the songs.

It is a showcase of original songs…songs written by your average joes living in Singapore, people like you and me.

Songs written by people who love music enough to pick up the guitar or go to the piano to create an original song of our own.

It is really an honour to know of so many wonderful, gifted and passionate songwriters in Singapore.

*P.S. Thank you to all who are reading this who turned up for the mini-concert tonight. Really appreciate your show of support!

…

Future?

Songcraft has been around for almost 3 full years, and we’ve gone through 3 annual concerts.

We’ve certainly come quite a way.

It has been a most magical journey.

(When music is involved…it’s always going to be magical.)

What does the future hold? Will there be a 4th concert?

Nobody knows. It’s hard to look too far in the future sometimes.

I guess we will have to wait and see what the future holds.

We can’t be too sure of tomorrow.

But what we can be sure of is that the memories of yesterday were certainly great.

One big happy group of songwriters

Where the fuck was I when this happened? More importantly, why didn’t anyone tell me?

Perhaps a preface is in order. A reading from the book of Hov: “Of course I love you… I love all y’all.” –Book 6, The Blueprint; Chapter 4, “Girls, Girls, Girls.” I’ve been youTube-ing a bunch of The-Dream’s work and it’s like he took this to heart and wrote two albums where he basically says the same thing in as many different ways as possible. I can get behind that.

Did you see the remix, too?!? I fucking love magazines–specifically, Esquire–and of course they make Ludacris magazine look like Esquire. And then Luda lays not only the best verse on the song but also does the intro. Sure, DJ Khaled sounds like an idiot, but that’s his thing. I also understand that, approximately, the first four lines of Rick Ross’ verse are known in Spain as “basura,” but, at the end of the day, Mr. Ross is a signed rapper and I’m just a dude who wants to buy The-Dream’s new album. That said, I respect Mr. Ross for getting paid to place sentences in logical order and make them rhyme.

Oh, the things I’ll write.

(P.S. Slightly related, the clue for 35-Down in the crossword puzzle a week ago last Wednesday was “two-cup item” and the answer was “Bra.” I laughed out loud and scared the shit out of like three or four people sitting next to me on the Subway. Worth it.)

Hi, I’m Kevin. I’ve blogged here before, but have never really introduced myself. I’m uPlaya’s Chief Architect, which means I manage the development team, and help figure out how to build all the crazy stuff we’re working on. I’m not a musician, have never played in a band (I did a lot of plays and sang in choirs in high school, but I don’t think that’s the same thing), and don’t play an instrument. I’m a fanatical music listener. I’ve listened to music every work day, 8-11 hours a day Monday through Friday and some weekends, for over ten years. My iTunes library is overflowing. My headphones cost more than my cell phone (I certainly use them more).

So, what am I doing babbling here? I want to praise the process of songcraft… something I know very little about. But, I love seeing how songs get put together, listening to live and alternate versions and getting a peek inside the minds of the people who create the music I love. This week, Morphine’s At Your Service was released. It’s a dual disk of alternate mixes, live performances and tracks that didn’t make it on to their studio albums. Morphine’s lead singer and main songwriter, Mark Sandman, died over a decade ago and their last studio album was released after his death. I’ve been a huge fan of the band for over a decade and put them near the top of my all-time list (or at the top, I can’t really pick among the top five or six).

What made this disk possible was that the band recorded everything. Every time they were in the studio, the tape was rolling. What you hear in the collection is a group of musicians who love playing together and experimenting. Listening to the album version of Buena or Empty Box when compared to the alternate versions, you can see how minor differences in emphasis and the mix can change the whole mood, and even meaning, of the song.

Buena goes from a little coy and charming, a fratboy story of conquest, in the album version, to sexy and dirty on the alternate take. The bass is the lead in the alternate version, and everything’s darker and slower. The words don’t change, but the emotions behind it are more predatory. The album version of Empty Box is a lament, sad and slow. The alternate version, with the addition of a new spoken word introduction, is much much darker. It’s bitter and noir, a surreal Raymond Chandler novel.

And some of the songs that didn’t make it on to the studio albums leave me curious as to why they didn’t make it. 5:09 is a brilliant noir mystery wrapped around a driving road beat. How did that not make it onto an album? The same question gets an easy when listening to Come Along though. It’s a song the band often used to open their live shows with, and it’s a brilliant live song (check it out on Bootleg Detroit). The studio version has none of the momentum of the live performance. It’s a song that just doesn’t work in the studio for some reason – and it’s clear why it wasn’t included.

As a music lover, it’s an intimate look inside the process of putting songs together. It makes me appreciate how much work goes in to producing great songs – and gives me a better idea of the thought process behind deciding how a song should sound once it’s down on paper.

To all the musicians and songwriters out there – you have my respect. It’s why I joined the company last year. I love music and want to help people find music that they’ll love and help talented musicians find fans. The current system is broken and the wrong stuff gets bubbled up to the top. The music industry is ripe for change, and I want to be a part of making it happen. I hope you’ll follow along and join the revolution.

(Photo courtesy of B)

Songcraft turned 2 last week, and I thought it’d be appropriate for me to share my thoughts:

It was a great event at the Earshot Cafe, though it was a pity that a few of our regulars couldn’t join us that night.

Anyhow, the entire night went great and I have to thank everyone for making it possible.

Listening to all the wonderful songs and the great performances, I couldn’t help but notice how high the level of songwriting was.

And many of them not only could write good songs, they could deliver the songs really well too.

Negative Stereotypes

I’d like to think that Songcraft has achieved what I would have hoped it would achieve in the last 2 years, and more.

Basically, I wanted to create an environment whereby it was OK for one to share one’s original songs.

That was the main gist of Songcraft.

It was a subtle movement to make the art of songwriting more acceptable and accessible to people.

This might be something we take for granted now, but trust me, 2 years ago I barely had the nerve to tell any of my friends (or even my sibling) that I wrote songs, much less share the songs with them.

I don’t know about other people’s circle of friends, but where I came from, friends and siblings didn’t really take to original songs that well. They viewed original songs with a bit of aversion. (People still do now, I suppose…but to a lesser extent.)

It’s funny. When you tell people you do poetry, or prose, or art, or design, or crafts…it’s quite OK. But when you tell them you write songs, you can see them recoil a little bit with that “Say what?” look.

It was kind of an embarrassing thing to let someone know that you dabbled in songwriting, and if you were to share your song with them, chances were that they’d politely listen through it…but you’d probably be able to sense that it was awkward for them.

I guess over the last 2 years a number of my friends have found out that I actually run a little songwriting circle, and some of them have even heard some of my songs. And they’ve slowly started to accept it.

I’d like to think that in the last 2 years, Songcraft has helped break down negative stereotypes in Singapore when it comes to writing original songs.

(“Leaders of the Band”, as B calls it…)

Doing Justice To Songs

I have never been comfortable with the fact that great original songs did not get the attention they deserve.

One of our favourite terms in Songcraft is to “do justice to the songs”, meaning the song should get the proper recognition it deserves.

Nothing pains me more to see a great song being written, but it never gets to see the light of day because there is no one interested enough to listen to it.

Hence, another reason that Songcraft existed was to give songwriters an avenue to share their songs, to let their songs be heard.

And boy have we heard many wonderful songs over the past 2 years!

Personally, the last 2 years have been 2 of the most musically enriching years of my life. And I’m not trying to exaggerate here.

It’s fortunate that Songcraft was able to somehow attract like-minded musician-songwriters in Singapore to come together on a regular basis to share new songs with one another, as well as to exchange views on the topics we were so passionate about – music and songwriting.

Inspiring One Another

I think one aspect which we seldom talk about in Songcraft is the fact that hearing one another’s songs does in some ways inspire ourselves to write better songs too.

(Kinda like the McCartney-Lennon dynamic, haha!)

But yeah, I’d like to think that in the last 2 years, Songcraft has inspired a number of songwriters to write many wonderful songs, and in the process, it has also raised their level of songcraft too.

And in that sense, I’d like to think that Songcraft has played it’s own small part in contributing to the arts scene here in Singapore, by inspiring local songwriters to write wonderful songs.

Conclusion

The fact remains that Songcraft was started on a whim, over one weekend.

There wasn’t any thorough blueprint drawn up, nor were there any lengthy discussions conducted with subject matter experts or anything like that.

There wasn’t a committee set up to look into the feasibility of starting such a group.

There also wasn’t any financial planning or pro forma P/L projections being forecast with regards to the group’s finances (with explains the big hole in my pocket, ha!).

I just decided to do it because I felt that I wanted to do it.

It was something I felt strongly for, and I just decided to go ahead…and if it fails, it fails.

But luckily, it didn’t!

Thank you all for making Songcraft what it is today.

(“See you at our year end Mini-Concert!”)

Tonight’s 2nd annual Songcraft mini-concert at the YMS Arts Centre was simply perfect!

Sometimes I need to pinch myself to see if all this is real. Everything seems to go so perfectly when it comes to Songcraft.

It is truly an immense joy to know so many wonderful and gifted songwriters here in Singapore. I never imagined all this when I first started the Songcraft Songwriting Circle. I feel truly blessed to have had the privilege of knowing them.

The audience at tonight’s mini-concert was noticeably larger than last year’s, and that was a very encouraging sign. Many friends and relatives of the songwriters took precious time to come attend.

I received quite a bit of feedback from fellow friends who attended tonight’s mini-concert, and they were generally highly positive. Many even commented that this year’s concert was even better than last year’s.

Overall, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better mini-concert than tonight’s. Who knows if there will be another one next year? Not me.

But at the end of the day, it’s memories like tonight’s which I will cherish with me for a long time to come.

Here’s looking forward to more good times ahead for Songcraft!

…

Many thanks to:

- All the songwriters and performers for such an enthusiastic effort.

- Alicia, who designed the cover of this year’s programme booklet (above).

- All of you who took precious time to come attend our mini-concert this evening.