Alright let’s get into how I tackled this songwriting thing using Robert Malkmus’s ideas. I’d been feeling super stuck, my songs all sounding kinda samey and forced, you know? Kept hitting dead ends. Then I stumbled on this interview where he was chatting about his process. Nothing super complicated, but it felt fresh for my block.
The Frustration and Finding Sparks
Honestly, my old way sucked. I’d sit down with my acoustic guitar and just strum the same old chords, hoping magic would fall out. Mostly got crumbs. Robert mentioned something simple but powerful: start with nonsense words or sounds, not deep meaning. Said he does it all the time. Skeptical but desperate, I grabbed my notebook.
Instead of trying to write a “song,” I just started scribbling:
- Weird phrases that popped into my head (“Yellow sneaker parade,” “Static cowboy sigh”)
- Humming random melodies into my phone recorder, like real bad off-key stuff
- Playing my guitar with a screwdriver on the strings for weird noises
Felt ridiculous. But also… kinda freeing? Wasn’t precious about it, just making messes.
Building Blocks, Not Masterpieces
Robert talked about treating these bits like puzzle pieces you find. Don’t force them together, just see what clicks. So I dug through my phone recordings and notebook scribbles. Found myself humming this one little descending melody fragment I’d done. Liked the mood of it. Then I flipped through my nonsense words and “Static cowboy sigh” jumped out. No clue why, just a vibe.
I started banging on my piano keys trying to find chords that matched the feel of that melody and that phrase. Didn’t care if they were fancy. Settled on three super simple chords – maybe too simple? – that just felt right underneath that humming bit. This part took ages, walking away, coming back, trying different combos.
Shaping the Thing (And Accepting Ugly)
Next challenge Robert mentioned: turning these fragments into an actual song structure. Intro, verse, chorus, blah blah. This is where I usually crash and burn. But Robert said something smart: Let the fragments dictate the structure. Don’t shove square pegs into round holes.
My little melody fragment felt like a verse – moody, short. Needed a lift. So I tried singing “Static cowboy sigh!” louder, adding a slightly different chord progression underneath it. Boom. Felt like a chorus, even if it was crude. Wrote a super basic bridge by slightly altering that original guitar screwdriver noise into actual notes. Rinsed and repeated. Ended up with this weird, ramshackle structure: Verse (nonsense melody), Chorus (cowboy sigh), Verse 2, Chorus, Screwdriver Bridge, Chorus. Short and strange.
The Final Stretch & My Big Takeaway
Adding actual, semi-coherent lyrics last was another Robert trick. Had the melody and structure down. The “Static cowboy sigh” was already there, so I brainstormed words around that image – dust, loneliness, fading signals. Wrote a short verse about a flickering neon sign, leaning into the slightly eerie vibe the music had. Didn’t try to tell a grand story, just built on that initial weird spark.
Recorded it super rough on my laptop mic. Played it back. It’s NOT a masterpiece. It’s short, a bit lopsided, the lyrics are maybe pretentious? But you know what? It felt ALIVE. Different from anything I’d forced out before. That core Malkmus thing – starting with playful, non-precious junk instead of pressure – absolutely worked for breaking my freeze.
- Stop trying to write a “good song” first. Make sounds & words without judging.
- Treat those fragments like puzzle pieces you find, not parts you design.
- Let the mood of the fragments shape the song structure, not textbook rules.
- Worry about “meaning” later, after the musical foundation is feeling good.
Seriously lowered the pressure. Still got a long way to go, but this actually felt like a path forward, mess and all.
