Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rain Clouds.

I noticed recently that some popular music personalities are trying to uplift and inspire. I first noticed Katy Perry's song, "Firework" encouraging people to excel and dazzle the world with their individuality. Pink put out a song called, um, "(Something) Perfect" saying you shouldn't let anyone advise you to change anything about yourself. And Lady Gaga released "Born This Way," sending the message that there's no such thing as over-promoting a pop song."Born This Way" is a particularly odd piece of work because I don't think I've heard LG sing a song in a major key before. But all three songs helped me learn an important lesson: It's very difficult to write a genuinely "uplifting" song.

Songs written to promote a positive message are fun to mock. Modern religious songs in particular don't seem as catchy and poetic as angst and heartbreak. There's a stigma against a happy-go-lucky artist. Since most stories revolve around a conflict or unfortunate event, we assume a happy person doesn't have much to say. And I think that's one of the main reasons happy songs are so difficult: writers know that if you have an interesting conflict, you basically stay true to that conflict and the story helps you write itself. The same is true with music and other art. Take the conflict away, and you expose your talent, or lack of it.

In "Perfect," Pink wants to play a wise counselor but uses the phrase "Pretty pretty please," implying a teasing attitude, as in "Daddy, can I buy this jacket? Pretty please? I'll be good." It's hard for me to take the song seriously after that. Also, it's supposed to be a tender ballad, but she throws in the most coarse, over-the-top profanity in the song's title. I guess she wanted to preserve her tomboy image, but it doesn't fit the music.

LG (I just feel weird typing her full name) tries really hard to fill the world with love, but doesn't say much beyond what you'd see on a bumper sticker:

God makes no mistakes.

It doesn't matter if you love him or Him.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen.

Cute, but not very convincing to anyone who disagrees. Plus rhythmically her words don't quite flow: "I'm beautiFUL in my way, 'cause God makes NO mistakes." I could go on, but I don't want to give LG more attention.

That leaves Katy Perry. Her song has its moments, I'd say more than other songs I've heard on the radio recently. I like the way the music grows when she says to "ignite the light and let it shine." The lyrics are clear in their meaning, and one thought flows nicely to the other. I guess my biggest problem is Perry's voice. For a song about releasing untapped potential, she struggles to reach the highest notes. It takes me away from the message when the messenger can't quite deliver.

I guess it's easy to forgive "uplifting" songs because the subject isn't as interesting. But it also makes it that much more satisfying when you hear a well-crafted song with a positive message. This is where I compare apples to oranges.

I'll never forget the first time I heard Paul Basler's arrangement of Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepherd." It is unfair to compare a religious choral piece to radio pop songs, but I believe you can learn things from the Classical style and translate them into the Pop or Rock medium. If you listen to the video, it gets loud, so you might want to be ready to turn the sound down.

The conductor I heard performing described the mood as someone in their later years, or at the end of a big struggle, looking back and realizing how good the Lord has been to him. Even the line about the Valley of the Shadow of Death keeps the light on; rather than turning moody, the choir amps up the joy, saying "Oh, man, even in my darkest hour He's there!" There's also an obvious Gospel Music influence, adding dignity to the whole thing.

That's most likely why I try more to write music with a positive mood. Any artist can be tortured. Only the cleverest, hardest-working can pull happiness off.

Running out of time, so To Be Continued...

He Who Hath Ears to Hear...

I didn't expect to get so sappy this early into my blogging career, but a couple of weeks ago I was treated to a type of music we don't notice most of the time. It's the kind of moment when the music you hear isn't strictly audible. My Bishop approached me one night as I was meditating in an LDS Temple on spiritual matters. He knew I was a composer, and that night he whispered, "This is the best kind of music, isn't it?"

One of the dangers music majors face in their first two years of study is the feeling that their favorite hobby is becoming flat and mathematical. They lose the concept that real music has an essence only describable in flowery language. Sometimes the essence included in a performance is so powerful that every finger slip, every clumsy note is forgiven.

The first time I heard such music I was sixteen. Visiting my family in Mexico, I went to church with them each Sunday. The pianist was absent one week, and the congregation sang A Capella. Everyone seemed to sing in a different key, and was out of tune in their respective key. But they sang because it was time to sing. It was beautiful.

The essence they added to the music they sang was a small part of themselves. As an example, think of the movieWALL-E. The voice of the ship's Autopilot (the steering wheel) was provided by a Macintalk--a computer-generated voice replicator. Zero personality, zero life in the lines it read. Everyone else in the movie had a variety of expression because of the mind and heart of the voice actor. Sound, at its core, is caused by vibrating the air. Vibrations caused by a lifeless object sound austere compared to vibrations caused by a living creature. The brain affects the vibrating we create very subtly depending on whether we're happy, hungry, or haughty. This is the part of a performance that separates a technically flawless performance from a deeper musical experience.

There was a talent show recently in my ward. Most people think of art when they think of talent, especially music. We heard quite a few songs, including an original by yours truly. I'll try to figure out how to post it on my playlist once I record it. I felt great about my performance, and I was also pleased by my Brothers of the Ivory who brought a good game to the stage. Seriously, anyone who tackles Piano Man, playing and singing exactly like Billy Joel, has got braggin' rights.

Then came the last act on the program. Let's call her Sara. Right before they called her name to go on, she dashed out of the room, stage fright filling her heart. Her two best friends followed her, and led her on stage. They stood on either side of her as she sang a song called "This is me" from Camp Rock. Each friend had one hand on her back. My ward understood what was happening and began to clap along, giving an ovation when she finished. Sara doesn't sing great. No doubt she feared everyone would laugh at her like many do out of Church. But her singing was not the music we all heard.

The image of her friends standing by her with their hands on her back drew my mind back to October 2007, when Joseph B. Wirthlin gave a talk on The Great Commandment to love one another. About seven minutes into his talk, I noticed his body shaking. A minute more and his back spasms appeared far beyond his control. Russell M. Nelson, a fellow Apostle and a heart surgeon, stepped up and steadied him as Elder Wirthlin finished his talk. A talk on love. He who hath ears to hear, let him hear.