Songwriting with The Welcome Wagon
Writing Songs
About prayer, Thomas Merton said, “We do not want to be beginners. But let us be convinced of the fact that we will never be anything else but beginners, all our life!” It's the same with songwriting, of course: each time we attempt to create a new song, we're learning, for the first time as it were, how to do it.
That's the scary news.
Here's the encouraging news: the moment you set pen to paper or touch even one guitar string, you've begun to write a song. One note of a melody, one chord struck, and you're already stepping out of the boat. "Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water." And he said, "Come."
So, in this class we're going to be beginners, and we're going to walk on the sea.
Each Day:
As far as I can say now, I think the plan is that each day we'll look at and discuss a number of songs that all share a particular trait (e.g. songs that never hit the chord of the key they're written in, e.g. Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams"), or maybe songs that are written from the perspective of a notable person in history (U2's "Until the End of the World" comes to mind). Then each one of us will spend some time trying to write a new song that fits that category.
What You Should Bring:
Pen
Paper, computer or ipad (whatever you like to use in songwriting sessions)
Bring whatever instrument you want to write on.
Experience Level:
Anyone who wants to learn how to write a song, and who wants to teach others how to write a song.
About the Instructor
The Welcome Wagon is a married couple, the Reverend Thomas Vito Aiuto and his wife Monique, who execute a genre of gospel music that is refreshingly plain. Their hymns are modest and melodic takes on a vast history of sacred song traditions, delivered with the simple desire to know their Maker—and to know each other—more intimately.
Admittedly, for a gospel duo, there’s far less soul than sweet sincerity in the casual songs of the Welcome Wagon. Vito and his wife are unabashedly Midwestern, ordinary, and uncool. But this is precisely what sets them apart from the standard fare of contemporary liturgical music. It doesn’t feign emotion; it doesn’t pander to stylistic pretensions; it doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is: the result of countless, informal social exchanges between friends. A home-cooked meal followed by a few microphones taped to folding chairs. A family gathering, a summary of happy noises, and a room crowded with familiar faces. Sure, there are showy guitar riffs and piano codas and harmonica solos, a rowdy chorus, an imposing flourish of brass instruments like wartime canons. But at the heart of it—if you really listen carefully—there’s just a pastor and his wife singing joyfully in the quiet privacy of their own home.