Note #17: The Bridge in Songwriting
Bridges, here, there and to everywhere. The verse-break-verse-bridge-verse-outro song structure.
My songs are becoming more complex, and in turn, though they are harder to play, they are also becoming more interesting to me. I like this quote from Glenn Tillbrook (of the band Squeeze) about the process that happens:
“[Y]ou can […] actually slave away on a tune for ages and keep coming back to it. I used to think that that would be overanalytical, but in fact, going back as far as “Tempted,” that took me a week to actually get it right and get the changes right. And I know that you can get back to things that can have a spark all the time as long as you use your sense of judgment and are willing to say at some point that that’s enough.”*
This editing process came about with “Letter to a Friend.” A new song that developed as I kept re-recording the demo. On each take (there were six or so), I kept altering it a bit.
This demo process got me to work assiduously on the structure, and what strikes me when I hear the song now is how organic the end result sounds. With no musical training, I cannot say how or why certain notes go together. I only know that I can hear something when I put chords together, and there was a kind of pleasing logic that guided the composition of this song. The bridge itself comes in somewhat surprisingly, to my ears, as it is related to the initial break (which, because of its location in the song, and its style, is not a bridge). In each case, the ear is cued by the appearance of an F#m (F sharp minor) which introduces the change. Here’s the bridge (excuse formatting):
F#m …………………….G………… A
There’s been many a day………..I just forgot
Get Robert M. Detman’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
When it first occurs, the F#m is a surprise tucked into the outro of the main verse, which is D Bm G A, and occurs as D Bm F#m G A. When the F#m reappears in the bridge, it surprises because it appears at the beginning, and then bridges a gap.
This is my technical explanation for something that I had no conscious or deliberate sense about what I was doing. It simply sounded to me that I needed a change at the end of the verse. Once I introduced the F#m, it was a logical occurrence to introduce it as the opening to the bridge. Again, this seems almost like a no-brainer, which is what often happens with a song’s structure.
The reality is that, F#m was not the easiest chord for me to play, though to use it might have been logical. It follows the Bm (x24432) rather well, and easily: just a shift of the ring and pinkie finger up to the A and D strings (with the continued bar of the strings on the second fret, thus 244222). I thought, here’s an opportunity to “practice” that F#m (which is actually maybe easier to play than the Bm!).
This song does not follow the traditional verse, chorus, verse, chorus, verse, bridge, chorus, outro. Instead, what happens is: verse, break, verse, bridge, outro. Now, I suppose you could call that first break the chorus, as something that might sound like a chorus falls into it. But is it a chorus if it’s not obvious in the structure? I’m sure there is a more clear technical terminology for what is happening, but in essence, the song doesn’t have a clear chorus. Though, again, embedded within each verse, there is a kind of end to the verse which is a pseudo-chorus. Each of the double-time D Bm end sections is a refrain that occurs four times throughout the song; maybe that is the chorus. They are almost like a stealth chorus; in fact, there is no singing over it. I just know the structure isn’t carefully delineated in that traditional manner, and I didn’t have to even think about trying to write a chorus.
Generally, in a song without a chorus, I would expect to hear that it is missing. But the variety within the structure makes up for this absent chorus. And it keeps it interesting enough that I think, hearing it, you aren’t waiting for more.
After all, who says a song needs a chorus? “Tempted” doesn’t even have a bridge.
I sometimes write songs with the idea that, eventually, I’ll be able to play them. Though I have mentioned my thorny trouble with B minor, I continue to put it into songs because it complements the melody. Or maybe it magically fits with the other chords I’m habitually messing with. In any case, I imagine, or hope, that someday I’ll look back and recognize, ah, this used to be so difficult, now it’s easy.
