A New Adventure Awaits!!!

So...y'all may have noticed that I haven't posted any new tunes for a while. Well, I've been crazy busy with life, and grad school, and getting in shape. But that's no excuse to step away from writing. Truth be told...I haven't stopped writing. I'm just not blogging about it as much as I used to. So...it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that I will no longer be posting my lyrics.
....Hold on! Where do you think you're going?! Sugar, sit your little booty down and let me finish what I was saying.
Yes, I have decided, with a few exceptions, that I will not be posting lyrics. But that does not mean the end of "Just Keep Writing". Oh no. The blog will live one. But it will be going in a new direction. How so?
Well, for my MLD capstone project I will be assembling a business plan for....wait for it....a publishing company! Yep, the gal who knows nothing about the music industry...who has long stood atop a mountain screaming "I do this for the love of music"...is getting into the music business (with my amazing co-writers and soon-to-be business partners).
I discovered my love for business while still in college, which prompted me to pick up my minors in Business Administration and Marketing. And y'all already know that I kinda like music. Well...what y'all don't know is how much that passion has developed over the past few years. I mean, I still can't sing or play worth a lick (I can rock some Journey and tear up an air guitar on Karaoke night, but thats beside the point), but, I can't quite explain it. Music just makes me happy. Very very happy.
So, as I sat in a class several weeks ago, listening to a professor discuss the terror that is developing a Masters thesis, she mentioned that some individuals do research, while others assemble business plans.
That's when it clicked. I wanted to get more into the business side of music, instead of just shrugging my shoulders and saying "it'll happen someday". It's freaking time to make this happen (yes, my passion for music has also brought out a rockstar complex. Watch out. I will slide down the handrail like a boss...I have pictures to prove it!).
I did a little thinking and I remembered the days when I was trying to find a publisher. I didn't try very hard, and I got a few bites, but I didn't know much about the business side of things and just kinda went into my "I'm just gonna write and be happy cocoon". Well, I did a little reading...and the publishing stuff sounds interesting, to say the least. A bit challenging, sure. And it'll be interesting trying to develop music city relationships since we are all based out of Bloomington (but I've got a plan for that!!! Just can't spill the beans. My business partners haven't even seen the plan. Yes, boys, we will review and tweak it as you both see fit.). But.....I think we can do this. What am I saying? I know we can do this!!!
So, Just Keep Writing is no longer my personal quest to write 100 songs (Truth be told, I've probably hit that goal. I just haven't posted everything). Just Keep Writing is now a songwriter's journey into the mind boggling labyrinth that is the country music industry. I'm going to do my best to write at least one blog post per week...but I can't make any promises since I'm still in school. Just know...those who regularly check in (I can see the page views, and they make me so happy), you will, periodically, be reading something new!!!
But for now, I return to the books!! #JustKeepWriting y'all!!!

Feel The Burn

So I got this idea for a song a few days ago. To be honest, I've been terrified of writing it.  Yes, I've been scared of a song. As in my stomach turns and I start getting a little jittery. This is my first experience with song anxiety, and I don't like it! So, I've decided tonight, instead of tackling my homework, I'm going to tackle this song. There is no reason I should ever be afraid to practice my craft. I'm not sure I will ever put music to it, but it's a story that just belongs in a song. I'll probably regret it...but I've gotta do it! I will warn y'all, this is uncharted territory. But I've had a bit of single barrel and I'm feeling feisty! The story is a bit dramatized and  the bridge is completely fictional, but the it just had to go there. There was no way around it. I'm a songwriter, it's just what I do.

Feel The Burn
© 2014 Chelsey Sears

This wasn't a chance encounter
But it's  different than before
'Cause tonight my hearts been racing
Since you came through the door
Casual conversation
Singing 'long with the man on stage
Keep telling myself not to fall
But it's too late

You're everything I'm wanting
But I'm nothing that you need
Only one can win this game
And heaven knows that it won't be me
But I can't help ignoring
How bad this is gonna hurt
You're like a shot of whiskey baby
I want to feel the burn

You asked if I could two step
Bet you could tell that I lied
But you still spun me 'round the hard wood
And for a moment in time
It crossed my mind that maybe
Ev'ry broken heart led
Me to you, in this half empty bar
For this night, I'll never forget

You're everything I'm wanting
But I'm nothing that you need
Only one can win this game
And heaven knows that it won't be me
But I can't help ignoring
How bad this is gonna hurt
You're like a shot of whiskey baby
I want to feel the burn

So I'll blame it on an 80 proof decision
When the evening comes to an end
I'll let a stolen kiss in the neon
Lead back to your apartment

You're everything I'm wanting
But I'm nothing that you need
Only one can win this game
And heaven knows that it won't be me
But I can't help ignoring
How bad this is gonna hurt
You're like a shot of whiskey baby
I want to feel the burn

No I can't help ignoring
How back this is gonna hurt
But you're like a shot of whiskey baby
I want to feel the burn

Long Awaited Good-Bye

So I realized this morning that, in the past few years, I let this one slip away. I wrote this….wow…back in 2012. At the time, someone tried to put music to it but it was never finalized. Well, today I flipped my notebook open and started thinking about a new song when this tune popped into my head. It was written just as a little in-your-face, “I’m over it and past the point of caring” song that I actually wrote when I was a really good mood. At the time, I was super pumped about it but it was put on the backburner over and over, until I just forgot about it. As soon as it popped into my head this morning, I decided to take it on as my next project while I finish my, as Pat Mc. calls it, snarkalicious tune.

Here’s the dilemma I face with every song. I’ve got a melody in my head. By golly when I’m writing it down, the wheels are turning with vocal runs and cool little guitar riffs. However, my complete lack of formal musical training makes things a little difficult sometimes. Just imagine standing in a café in a foreign country, and you really want a cappuccino. You know just how you want it. You can smell it, you can taste it, you can imagine the warmth running down your throat…but you can’t order it because nobody understands English. After observing others in the café, you eventually figure out how to order your beloved cappuccino, but through trial and error you may end up with a tea or a macchiato along the way.

So here I sit, with a guitar in my hand, googling chords, and trying to figure this crap out. Before you say “just look for online instruction”, I’ve tried. But those little videos often leave me with more questions than answers. That leaves trial and error. It may not be the most efficient way to learn, but it works. I may make a few mistakes…okay, a million mistakes, along the way. Hell I may just screw it up completely. But failure is not an option…it’s not even in my songwriting vocabulary. Failure admits defeat, and lord knows I’m too stubborn to accept that. My arrangements may not be the most musically correct, but they are stepping stones. Someday, maybe this whole music thing will start making sense. Maybe it won’t. But I’m not going to let anything get in my way…even if I don’t know where I’m going.

Long Awaited Good-Bye

© 2012 Chelsey Sears

Two weeks, I put my notice in

At my forty, fifty, sixty hour hell on earth

Counting down ‘til the moment when

I’ll give that ole boss man what he deserves

A dash of attitude, and a piece of my mind

Served up on a long awaited good-bye

Well, I thought I knew you really well

But now I’ve got a hunch

That your hand’s been in the cookie jar

And baby enough ‘s enough

Here’s a dash of attitude, and a piece of my mind

Served up on a long awaited good-bye

The bird’s a flyin’ out my open window

Speeding eighty in a fifty-five

Didn’t pack a single bag

But hell, I’ve got my pride

And the past ain’t nothing but a shadow

In the taillights

Of a long awaited good-bye

As much as I love this little town

You know I’ve had my fill

Of being at the center of

The local rumor mill

So here’s a dash of attitude, and a piece of my mind

Served up on a long awaited good-bye

The bird’s a flyin’ out my open window

Speeding eighty in a fifty-five

Didn’t pack a single bag

But hell, I’ve got my pride

And the past ain’t nothing but a shadow

In the taillights

Of a long awaited good-bye

Not Even A Memory

Okay, so part of writing with the person you are with means that, if the relationship ends, there's a whole matter of song custody. So, I've come up with a solution to this...I will re-write every freaking song we wrote so I can save my hooks.
I wrote the lyrics and asked my ex to put music to the first version of this song (honestly, I wasn't too thrilled about it but I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I said I loved it, and even paid to record it down in Nashville. Huge waste of money. Should've done Southern Style. But I digress...).
Originally, I wrote this song because, as we were sitting at a gas station, I noticed the guy in the next pump staring at me. I glanced at him, but didn't recognize him right away. About five minutes after we left the gas station, I realized that it was a guy I had dated for a few months. In all honesty, I was a little proud of myself, and thought "I've moved on to the point that he's not even a memory"...and that's when the lightbulb came on. I decided I had to write a song about running into an ex-lover and realizing that they don't even recognize you. Long story short, I wrote a really sappy lyric that my ex put music to and we played it out a bit, eventually recording it down in Nashville.
In all reality, I could just re-write the music to it, because that was his only contribution...but that's not good enough for me. Nope, I'm going to COMPLETELY rewrite this one. I started re-writing it back in January, and I got through the verses...but then I made a mistake in February (yeah yeah yeah), and figured I should stop working on it. Well, I came across my original re-write today and decided that I need to finalize it. It just has to be done, and I'm tired of piddling around. I'm a songwriter, and I'm going to force this one to the surface. It's a little rhymy for my taste in the chorus...but I was feeling it so I went out on a limb. I'll probably re-write it another time or two, but I've gotta start somewhere! Here goes nothing! :)

Not Even A Memory

© 2013 Chelsey Sears

When he said "I don't love you anymore"
Well that tipped the scale
Of her "I'm fed up, worn out
And quite frankly mad as hell"
Just like that she let go
Of two years of her life
Without even bothering
To say good -bye

Freedom blowing through her hair
The warm sun on her skin
She's learning how to smile
How to live again
Tearing down a brand new road
With no clue where it leads
But she's gonna keep running 'til he's
Not even a memory

When they met, no-one believed
She could fall so fast
Now that she's gone, he can't believe
She ain't looking back
Two weeks ago, she promised him
'Til the end of time
But now there's nothing he could do or say
To change her mind

Freedom blowing through her hair
The warm sun on her skin
She's learning how to smile
How to live again
Tearing down a brand new road
With no clue where it leads
But she's gonna keep running 'til he's
Not even a memory

She's gonna dance in the rain
And take it all in stride
Her dreams have never been so close
The future 's never looked so bright

Freedom blowing through her hair
The warm sun on her skin
She's learning how to smile
How to live again
Tearing down a brand new road
With no clue where it leads
But she's gonna keep running 'til he's
Not even a memory

Waiting on the Rain

So there’s a part of being a writer that some non-writers may not understand. It’s the moment that, at freaking 4:45 AM, an idea pops into your head, and you scramble to get out of your wonderfully perfect bed to grab your notebook, or laptop…whichever is closest!

So for a while I’ve wanted to write a reminiscent and nostalgic tune about childhood innocence and all that jazz. Well, there is one particular thing that I remember about my childhood that I always wanted to throw into a song.

I grew up in the hills of southern Indiana, next to a fairly large field. Up until my teenage years, they used it as a hay field. The round bales were lined up in rows on the crest of a hill, by the road and the entrance to the field. My friends and I used to wander out to the field and climb on the hay bales. We’d run on the rows, talking about cute boys and all of our crazy dreams.

I’d been trying to figure out a way to stick that memory of sitting on those hay bales, looking out over what seemed like half the county (I live on a really big hill! J) into some kind of song. Any kind of song! To saw I was desperate would be an understatement.

Well the other day I posted a Facebook status about how I was waiting for the rain and a dear friend of mine said that it would make a good hook. It brought back a memory about those round bales in the field and I knew that I would finally be able to work that scene from my childhood into a song! The first verse, in fact, did happen when I was a teenager. While my father worked on clearing a tree that had fallen across the road, I sat on top of those broken down bales, watching the next wave of storms roll in, and trying to get a cool picture of the lightning...which was interesting because I had a cheap little digital camera, but I was still in 4-H and thought a cool lighting shot would do well at the fair, so I kept on snapping away...but I didn't get a single decent shot.

Now, I will clarify that the second verse is purely fictional, but I mean, come on, it had to go there! I don't know if I will put music to it. For right now, I'm going to attempt to recover the two hours of sleep that I just lost.

Waiting on the Rain

© 2014 Chelsey Sears

At the crest of Baker’s hill

When it was still in hay

There sat a row of ole round bales

Where us kids would play

One night my old man was clearing

A tree across the road

I went along, and sat on top the world

Watching the storm clouds roll

Lighting in the distance

Change on the breeze

Headstrong, facing to the wind

To soak up the sweet release

Felt a rumble in my soul

That I remember to this day

Waiting on the rain

Billy took my breath away

When I was seventeen

He promised me that it was love

And back then, I still believed

On those steamy July evenings

We’d sneak off and park

Lay ‘top a blanket in the bed

But we weren’t watching the stars

Lighting in the distance

Change on the breeze

Headstrong, facing to the wind

To soak up the sweet release

Felt a rumble in my soul

That I remember to this day

Waiting on the rain

Screen door slammed behind me

Didn’t know where else to go

With all my things in the front seat

As the sky began to blow

Staring at a two-year tan line

There on my left hand

You know hap’ly ever after

Doesn’t always go as planned

But there’s lighting in the distance

And change on the breeze

Headstrong, I’m facing to the wind

Soaking up the sweet release

I can feel a freedom in my soul

No one can take away

Waiting on the rain

I can feel a freedom in my soul

No one can take away

Waiting on the rain

Barefoot In The Clay

Hey Y'all! I'm back! Okay, so finishing up Numb was the best thing ever! I woke up with my mind racing and I decided it was time to hammer out another tune! Okay, so here's the scoop. If you've ever listened to Southern Style, you'll recognize my hook. "It's half a dozen pick-up trucks, parked 'round a ten foot flame. And twice as many country girls barefoot in the clay". How did that line become it's own song. Well let me tell you...

So when I attended the Barbara Cloyd workshop earlier this year, I took my best song...Southern Style. Why was this my best song? Well it had the most commercial theme of my catalog. Boy I can write random story songs and depressing ballads all day long, but Southern Style was my baby. I wrote it just as bro-co was gaining steam, and I thought that it was "the one". It even got me on the NSAI "Ones to Watch" list at one point. Woo-hoo! Yay for a party song! However, as the workshop got closer, in my mind, I knew what kind of critique I would be receiving. I wrote Southern Style in 2012...since then thousands of bonfire party songs have been written, so it was horribly outdated. So I chose to look at the workshop as a learning experience. I was hoping for that one morsel of brutal honesty to knock me out of my ballad and story song rut. Well...I got it. Barbara said I was heading in the right direction, but my song was predictable. However, she pointed out one line that she really liked... "barefoot in the clay". 

I kept that in mind, but never felt compelled to re-write Southern Style. After two years of playing it and pitching it...I was just kinda over it. It's still one of my favorites to play out...because it's just a gritty, dirty country song, but I just felt like it was past it's prime.

Well this summer, I was actually sitting out by a bonfire, thinking about the "barefoot in the clay" line, and humming a little melody "You can slap on a southern drawl and dance the night away, but you don't know country 'til you're barefoot in the clay". I've had those lines for two months...but never really put much thought into them.

Well, this morning, as I pulled up my computer to work on some homework, I started thinking about those lines and I realized, it was time to write the song. The first thing that came to mind was an encounter with a gentleman (I say gentleman with sarcasm) at a Justin Moore concert. He was going on and on and on about how country he was....but it was just a front. That pretty boy just didn't have a clue. I've tried to write songs about our conversation before (because I just got a kick out of it), but I was never able to hit the nail on the head. Well...I went for it again and this time, I must say, I'm kinda diggin' it. I'll probably try to put music to it sometime in the next few weeks, so hopefully I can get a recording up!

Barefoot in the Clay

© 2014 Chelsey Sears

You strut on in, like you own this town

In your new designer jeans

That brand new cowboy hat there on your head

And a button up  from Abercrombie

Boy you can flash a wink

If your little heart desires

But I’ve got you pegged

Like a faded yard sale flyer

You can work your best lines, and may even sing along

To a couple George Strait tunes, or a Waylon Jennings song

You can slap on a southern drawl, and dance the night away

But you don’t know country, ‘til you’re barefoot in the clay

Go on an brag ‘bout all the things we’ll do

In your big ole truck bed

I’ll pretend that I didn’t see you

Rolling up in that little S-10

Sure I’ll play along

Stroke your ego a bit

‘Til you chase your whiskey down

‘Round here that’s a sin

You can work your best lines, and may even sing along

To a couple George Strait tunes, or a Waylon Jennings song

You can slap on a southern drawl, and dance the night away

But you don’t know country, ‘til you’re barefoot in the clay

Well I’m oh so flattered, by your one night offer

But man, you really missed the mark

It ain’t about some fancy boots

It’s ‘bout hard work, bonfires, and fishing in the dark

You can work your best lines, and may even sing along

To a couple George Strait tunes, or a Waylon Jennings song

You can slap on a southern drawl, and dance the night away

But you don’t know country, ‘til you’re barefoot in the clay

You can slap on a southern drawl and dance the night away

But you don’t know country, ‘til you’re barefoot in the clay