Fantasy Songwriting Camp: A Lesson from Ali Marcus

Seattle songwriter Ali Marcus asks me to bring a guitar to the lesson she's going to give me, which worries me a little because my guitar is embarrassing. It was a birthday gift from my mom to my sister. Fifteen years later, I've ended up with the thing: a cheapo classical guitar with nylon strings. I play Beatles songs on it, with guidance from Chordie. Which in itself is slightly embarrassing. Sometimes I sing songs I wrote after a long-ago breakup. Those are very embarrassing. I never, ever, play for anyone but myself.

Ali Marcus plays Portland farmers markets and Brooklyn lounges and Santa Cruz crepe shops and Guemes Island general stores. Saturday she's playing at a farm. I think she just loves playing music, which is why when we sit down for the lesson, in the living room of the two-story Greenwood house she rents a room in, she seems to be having fun despite having to instruct a dunderhead writer playing a love song built around a football metaphor on a crappy hand-me-down guitar.

"That was really good," Ali exults after I finish the first-ever public performance of "Mr. Instant Replay Referee." (Don't ask.)

We start talking about how a song writer like herself might take the (extremely) basic structure of this song and turn it into something more interesting.

She gives me a brief but very helpful primer on the basic chord structure of songs--something I understood innately but never comprehended on a conscious level. Then she explains what notes go into the chords and how to change them up to give your song a different style.

She has me play my song in minor keys instead of major ones. I'm dubious but try.

"Wow! I never even knew you could do that," I say. "Gives it an entirely different atmosphere. Sounds sort of ominous now."

I ask if this is what she does when she writes songs--fiddle around with different chords to find the effect she's looking for. The answer is affirmative.

"I usually start with words and then build a song around them," she tells me.

Later Ali shows me the master list of songs that lives on a wall above her futon bed. Each song gets its own yellow note. She arranges the songs in the order she wants to play them in shows, so the yellow notes are arranged in long vertical lists.

Down below, not living in any list, are a group of about eight songs. I ask what they are.

"These are the songs I will never play again," Ali tells me.

But she'll take bits and pieces from them--melodies, lines, words, chords--to make new songs.

"Like recycling!" I offer.

Lesson over, I gather my notes and return to a brighter songwriting future. I think my audience (that is, me) is going to be impressed.

• Ali will be playing many of her songs--some recycled, some not--at Fall City Farms on Saturday. She'll be playing closer to Seattle on November 14, at the new Empty Sea Studios in Phinney Ridge. She also gives private lessons. If you're interested, hit her up at alimarcus (at) the gmail service.