I, like most everyone else, don't always have the perspective to be objective, but I always try to recognize a lame song that doesn't jump out at you. . .
I cannot be objective about stuff I've written or co written or been involved in. I approach songs purely on a 'do I like this ?' basis.
That said, there's been songs that I haven't particularly liked, yet I just had to get them done.
But the other thing that really interests me is
but I always try to recognize a lame song that doesn't jump out at you. . .
because it seems that we don't always give creedence to a song's ability to creep up and grab you unexpectedly over a lengthy period of time. Just on a general basis, the songs that grab me straightaway may not end up being the ones I love ad infinitum. They often are but not exclusively. There'll always be this clutch of songs that it might take me years to like.
If I had a general critique about what we do, it would be that IF we are going to be the sole writer and the band and the producer, then we REALLY have to be conscious, overly conscious, of just how good a song is. . . We have to think like a producer and/or an arranger and be much more objective, and try to hear the song for the first time and re-write or improve the good ones, and trash the truly lame ones. . . So many songs are out there floating around that probably shouldn't be
I wonder about that. I feel ambivalent about this because I feel that something happened in the mid to late 60s that freed up people that wrote songs, namely, the gradual shift in importance of the album.
Singles and show soundtracks brought about a kind of unspoken "quality control" insofar as
not just any old crap could get released by record companies. Then specifically the Beatles, then the Rolling Stones began making albums in which, as Keith Richards explains, there was no fillers, they'd work on every track as though it were a single. This spread to bands like the Byrds and Beach boys and by about 1966, albums were bristling with quality songs. But then, the demands of knocking out two albums a year as well as the adventurousness of so many British and American groups meant that to satisfy the demands of the buyers, the record companies indulged the experimental bent that many of these artists were unleashing. And you got loads of songs being written like "The gnome", "The laughing gnome", "Yellow submarine", "Boris the Spider", "Bike", "Her majesty" and stuff of that ilk that would probably never have gotten recorded in a bygone era.
What has that got to do with us on the home recording circuit ? Well, it redefined what was acceptable to stick on an album. For nearly 50 years, albums haven't had to be packed with stellar songs, just songs. The notion that even a flimsy but fun little ditty or piece of disposable "All together now" type stuff can be put out has been ingrained in the collective psyche of songwriters for ages. Punk solidified it.
I think it's better to get a song done and out, even if the creator
of the song think it's weak and lame, than to not do it and have it in the vaults. Keith Richards didn't think "Satisfaction" was a worthy single. Sting says Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland didn't think "Every breath you take" would get anywhere because it was mono dimensional. There are scores of examples like that and that, I guess, is the beauty of the eye of the beholder being the one to determine what is . Besides which, "finished is better than perfect".