Songwriting: ‘Finding The Game’ Of A Song

In Theater Improvisation (which I’ve practiced for over 8 years), we’re taught how to create realistic two-person scenes out of nothing. One technique for this is to ‘find the game’ of a scene, as it unfolds. The game of a scene is defined as an unusual thing that repeats, but not exactly: it rhymes. (Cool: the jargon-sharing between Improv & Songwriting is now symmetric.)

This could be a physical pattern (always acting nervous when your partner speaks); a verbal pattern (a mispronounced word that gets repeated, and/or extended to other words or meanings); or a scenic pattern (always reacting fondly to any reminiscence, no matter how inappropriate; then justifying it).

See below for a great example from the movie Spinal Tap. Another great example is Monty Pythons’  ‘Spanish Inqusition’ sketch, where Cardinal Ximenez, the lead inquisitor (Michael Palin) repeatedly stumbles over, then restates the list of their tools (“Our chief weapon is fear; fear & surprise – Our chief weapons are fear, surprise, and a ruthless..) In fact, the Pythons’ used this ‘mangling & restating a list’ game to the point of tedium (can I say that about them?)

Likewise, when I write a song, I try to ‘find the game’ of my song. For example, in Alive (My Iraqi War Diary, Part 1), the game is the narrators’ cynical, fatalistic, and brutally honest point of view (“I make the world safe for your SUV”).

In What Did I Miss? (My Iraqi War Diary, Part 2), the game is the answers to the question posed by the songs’ title: a recounting of the most trivial/superficial events of the past 21 years (at least until the last chorus; then Bam!…).

In My So-Called Democracy, the game is sarcasm. Lines like

where the fourth estate is bought by the second, I’m sure this is just what The Framers had reckoned

and

if the White House needs to pay the press, well, they’re only looking out for my best
and if rich folk are feeling oppressed, let’s give ‘em more tax breaks, ’cause that’s what’s best

state the opposite of what is meant for dramatic effect.

In the New Wave classic 88 Lines About 44 Women by The Nails, the game is stated right in the title: 44 women described 2 lines at a time. Listen carefully to every line: it’s a tour-de-force of lyric writing, eg:

Jackie was a rich punk-rocker, silver spoon and a paper plate.

Can you spell succinct?

Other popular songwriting ‘games’ include call-and-response, extreme variations in vocal range (eg, ‘emo’), and normal-time/double-time groove changes, where a songs’ choruses are twice/half the time as the verses.

My song On And Off (I Wanna See You) is a good example of this, as well as The Clash’s’ Should I Stay or Should I Go, and The Police’s’ So Lonely. The latter two double the time in the Chorus, whereas my song doubles the time in the Verses (or halves the time in the Chorus, said another way).

Not every song needs a ‘game,’ but it can jump-start your creativity and give your songs an additional hook.

Any other popular songs with games? Any games in your songs? Do tell.

- Rob

‘The Game’ of a Scene From Spinal Tap

Here’s a great definition and example from the movie Spinal Tap, from this excellent improv technique summary by Dan Goldstein:THE GAME OF THE SCENE SHOULD RHYME AND HEIGHTEN

Mark Twain had an adage that history doesn’t repeat itself, but it rhymes. The game of the scene is the thing that repeats. However, I don’t mean repeats exactly, which is why I say it rhymes. When you rhyme “star” with “are”, you take the word “star”, generalize it to the “-ar” family of rhymes, and find another specific member of that family. So it is with the game in the scene. You don’t want to repeat it exactly, but want to find another specific that rhymes with the general theme and heightens it.

Consider the following scene from Spinal Tap, with Marty interviewing Nigel about his Guitar collection:

Nigel Tufnel: Look… still has the old tag on, never even played it.

(Marty points his finger)

Nigel Tufnel: Don’t touch it!

Marty DiBergi: We’ll I wasn’t going to touch it, I was just pointing at it.

Nigel Tufnel: Well… don’t point!

Marty DiBergi: Don’t point, okay. Can I look at it?

Nigel Tufnel: No.

Notice that Nigel doesn’t insist on the guitar not being touched three times. Here, the pattern is: don’t touch, don’t point, don’t look. This is a rhyming pattern (all concerning observing a guitar). It is also a heightening, which is very important in game playing. Asking someone not to touch a prized guitar is a bit odd but understandable. Asking someone not to point to it is more strange, and asking someone not to look at it is heightening the game of “respecting the guitar” to an extreme.