I’m impressed by how Udio helped me create “8-Second Secrets.”
I recently dug into Udio, an AI songwriting assistant garnering attention in the music tech community.
Udio is part of a new wave of tools designed to provide music and lyrics based on simple input. It’s praised for its ability to quickly generate music that captures the essence of a user’s initial ideas.
While Udio can craft lyrics and melodies, inputting my lyrics provides better results. This connection to the song’s emotional core and Udio’s strong music composition capabilities enhance my creative process.
Recently, I applied this approach to a new country track, “8-Second Secrets.” The results were astonishingly quick; within minutes, Udio provided a promising musical sketch based on my lyrics.
The result, while still in its nascent stages, is impressive. It’s rough around the edges, but the speed and ease with which Udio turned my written words into a palpable musical piece were nothing short of astonishing.
For musicians, whether seasoned or novice, integrating AI tools like Udio can ignite a spark of creativity and open up a world of possibilities. It’s about finding the perfect harmony between human creativity and technological assistance, and for me, Udio strikes that balance beautifully.
Composer Barry De Vorzon infuses “Red River Valley” with an epic, emotional sweep.
Uncovering hidden gems is a thrill that never fades. So, imagine my delight when, during a YouTube rabbit hole expedition, I stumbled upon several music tracks from John Milius’ 1973 film “Dillinger.”
This discovery is a treasure trove not only for its rarity but also for its connection to Barry De Vorzon. His score in this underappreciated movie is a textbook example of musical understanding.
De Vorzon masterfully combines classic tunes with new expository material in “Dillinger,” encapsulating the Gangster Era of the 1930s and blending it seamlessly with Milius’ gritty, unapologetically romantic vision of the outlaw’s life. De Vorzon’s score is an important narrative force, helping Milius capture the tumultuous spirit of the 1930s and the raw, chaotic energy of John Dillinger’s criminal escapades.
The tracks available on YouTube mix adrenaline-pumping compositions with melancholic melodies. Among these, the renditions of “Red River Valley” stand out. This classic tune becomes an emotional anchor in the film, evoking lost innocence, the fading American dream, and the outlaw’s inevitable decline into despair, defeat, and death.
Today I chanced upon an excellent analysis of Marty Robbins’ El Paso song cycle. I’ve included it above, and you should watch the video — it’s that good.
I’m reminded of a blog post I published 17 years ago about the relationship of “El Paso” to “As Time Goes By” and Albert Einstein.
Round up the usual subatomic particles (July 9, 2006)
Today at work, I needed to fact-check a reference to lyrics from “As Time Goes By” — best known for its use in the classic motion picture “Casablanca” — and discovered something pretty profound: This song’s introductory verse is actually about Albert Einstein and his Theory of Relativity.
This day and age we’re living in Gives cause for apprehension With speed and new invention And things like fourth dimension.
Yet we get a trifle weary With Mr. Einstein’s theory. So we must get down to earth at times Relax, relieve the tension And no matter what the progress Or what may yet be proved The simple facts of life are such They cannot be removed.
You must remember this. . .
You just don’t encounter a lot of verse introductions these days. It wasn’t until several years ago that I even heard the “White Christmas” intro about being in Southern California in December and why the singer dreams of a white Christmas.
Thanks to iTunes, I discovered another musical delight recently. I was searching for “El Paso,” the classic Western ballad by Marty Robbins and, yeah, I saw “El Paso City,” too — but also for sale was an incredible song I’d never heard before: “Feleena (From El Paso).”
This amazing song tells the “El Paso” saga from Feleena’s viewpoint and is guaranteed to evoke an almost operatic cascade of emotions from anyone like me who loves the original.
You surely know the tragic ending of the “El Paso” story, so I’ll risk a spoiler by quoting my favorite set of lyrics from “Feleena.”
Feleena knelt near him, To hold and to hear him When she felt the warm blood That flowed from the wound in his side.
He raised to kiss her and she heard him whisper, “Never forget me, Feleena. It’s over, goodbye.”
Quickly she grabbed for the six-gun that he wore And screaming in anger and placing the gun to her breast,
“Bury us both deep and maybe we’ll find peace,” Then pulling the trigger, she fell ’cross the dead cowboy’s chest.
Time — the fourth dimension — is why you might not have heard “Feleena.” The song clocks in at 8 minutes, 19 seconds, so it doesn’t get much airplay.
There’s also an internal time problem with “Feleena.” In the original “El Paso,” the young cowboy apparently spent some time in the badlands of New Mexico, yet in “Faleena,” he tragically returns the next day.
Or maybe, as Einstein might say, it’s all relative.
During a discussion about poetry way back in a high school English class, some kid lamented that few poets other than Rod McKuen — I told you this was way back — made a living writing the stuff.
Our teacher, however, disagreed, and pointed out that plenty of folks, including McKuen, make a comfortable living writing poetry as song lyrics. What then followed was a fascinating discussion of song lyrics through the years.
What also followed was my first taste of the bad American tendency to enjoy disparaging successful people. More than a few of my classmates had already formed opinions that McKuen was a hack, a purveyor of kitsch, and a populist phony. I lacked the courage to ask them how McKuen was any different from the Beatles.
Over the years, I’ve often recalled that day at Jefferson High School when encountering a particularly good song lyric. Like just a few days ago when Apple Music played on past my KDP Rodeo Days playlist and treated me to “I Don’t Feel That Way Anymore” by Danni Leigh.
I love these lyrics. . .
Well, I’d love to take my clothes off and throw them on your floor. And I would, but I don’t feel that way anymore.
How about you? Have you discovered any lyrics lately that you like?
I love the turn of phrases in “I Don’t Feel That Way Anymore.”
Ah, it’s almost that snug, cozy time of year: Thanksgiving.
No, I’m not early. I’m talking about Canadian Thanksgiving, the second Monday in October. This holiday came to mind today while I tarried in the frozen food section in search of something sweet and satisfying.
And that’s when I found my answer: Mrs. Smith’s frozen pumpkin pie. As I type this, my kitchen is filling up with an aroma like a slice of heaven.
But let me tell you, the best part is what I’m listening to while that pie’s getting golden brown. I’ve got a playlist chock-full of authentic Canadian country artists.
I’ve got a soft spot for the real deal regarding country music, and our North of the Border friends deliver. Artists like Blake Berglund, who’s all heart and soul, and Belle Plaine, whose melodies are as captivating as a prairie sunset. Or Corb Lund, who weaves a tale like no one else. And, of course, there’s Tim Hus, Colter Wall, and a whole slew more — as authentically Canadian as a jug of maple syrup.
So, this coming Canadian Thanksgiving, my gratitude isn’t aimed solely at a delicious pie and my good fortune to have enough to eat.
I’m also tipping my hat to Canada for gifting us some of the realest country music. Thanks to those genuine tunes serenading me in the background, every bite of that pumpkin pie will seem sweeter.
So here’s to a delightful slice of Mrs. Smith’s and hearty cheers to our northern neighbors for keeping country music real.
Is there any YouTube channel that does NOT use this stock music? Even more to the point, once I hear this tune, it’s worming around in my head like that thing Khan stuffed in Chekov’s ear!
L.T. Hanlon 