The Benefits and Realities of Song Contests and Showcasing: Part 3

As featured in: Performing Songwriter Issue #28, January/February 1998. Visit performingsongwriter.com to order back issues or subscribe.

By Bill Parsons

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Breaking Through

OK, I know. I already told you that nobody gets “discovered” at song contests, that winning them is more building block than catapult. And that’s true. But it is also true, as Ellis Paul likes to say, that some building blocks are bigger than others. And for some artists, winning a song contest or showcase turns out to be a pretty big building block. “If you asked Gillian’s fans today where they first heard her, more people talk about MerleFest and All Things Considered than anything else,” says Denise Stiff, who manages Welch.

The fact is that a few of the artists I interviewed did have what could be described as “breakthrough” experiences at showcases. But after hearing their recollections, it is safe to say that none of their stories quite resembled the “overnight success” tales that are the stuff of legend. Instead, most of the time the artists weren’t even able to identify the showcases as breakthrough events for themselves until long after the fact—when, with the benefit of hindsight, they could see that the showcase had set in motion a sequence of events that eventually got them where they wanted to go. The tale of G. Love and Special Sauce at the 1993 Philadelphia Music Conference is especially instructive.

As the story goes, G. Love was invited to showcase at the 1993 PMC and was put on a bill with The Roots and E Tribe at the now defunct Revival club in Philadelphia. Since E Tribe was “The Next Big Thing Out of Philly”, they were given top billing and drew a sizable crowd of A & R reps on the night of the show. However, when the last poster was torn down, it was G. Love and The Roots—not E Tribe—who got offered record deals. “The legend is that G. Love was plucked off the stage because he was on the right bill,” says the PMC’s Carter. “Everyone went to see E Tribe and G. Love got signed instead.”

It’s a nice story, and it’s factually true—in a distilled sort of way. It turns out that the road G. Love traveled to Sony/Okeh records was a little longer and more roundabout than the legend implies.

G. Love’s manager, Jonathan Block, remembers: “G. was living in Boston at the time, and Dave Johnson (who wound up producing G. Love’s first record) was on the (PMC) selection committee. All day he’s putting on crappy tape after crappy tape until he got to G.’s and thought ‘this is great’. So he got G. that gig. But G. was already doing shows in Boston. Walter Durkaz was booking the New Music Seminar at the old Cat Club in New York and that’s where I saw G. for the first time. A couple of people who had seen G. at the PMC, including I think one of my interns, told me I should go. I was totally blown away. After his set, I introduced myself...I got him three gigs in New York pretty quickly after that and got his tape out to a couple of people including Michael Caplan [Vice President of A&R at Sony] and Paul Jarosic at Epic Sales. Paul and Michael worked together. Michael called the next day and said ‘come on in’. No one person can take credit for discovering anyone, other than their parents. But I would say, yes, the PMC was a crucial step in the development of G. Love. They’re just as important as anyone else.”

1994 was a good year for Shanachie recording artist Karen Pernick. The Seattlebased singer-songwriter was invited to perform at the Napa, Rocky Mountain and Kerrville showcases, where she took first place at Rocky Mountain and was a finalist at Kerrville. It was at Rocky Mountain that she got her first big break.

ASCAP writer relations representative Brendan Okrent was at the Rocky Mountain festival that year and was so impressed with Karen’s music that she invited Pernick to perform at ASCAP’s Quiet on the Set Showcase at the 1996 SXSW Music Conference in Austin, TX. Pernick remembers: “I did two showcases at SXSW that year. The night before ‘Quiet on the Set’ I was at the Driskill Hotel, and I didn’t feel like I did my best, like my nerves got the best of me. Then I played the ASCAP showcase the next afternoon, and I had six people come up to me afterwards. I mean, it’s all so hit and miss...” In this case, it was a hit.

One of those six people was Shanachie A&R Director Charlie Dahan who, by all accounts, didn’t even mean to be there. “My friend Eddie Hammell (of Hammell on Trial) had his first record out on Mercury,” says Dahan. “And I wanted to go support him at the ASCAP show at the Rutamaya Coffeehouse—where they also had free beer. I went there and the person who was on before Karen had run late so Karen was on. And I just shook my head when she was playing and thought ‘she really doesn’t suck...she’s really good.’ I watched her whole set, went up and introduced myself afterwards and said ‘you’re good, why don’t you come out for a drink with us and see Kris McKay (now also a Shanachie artist) at the Ritz Pool Hall. So she did...sent me a demo....and two weeks later we offered her a deal.”

What Are Contest Judges Looking For?

Of course the answer to this question depends in part on the particular contest you’re entering, the category of music to which you’re submitting and the particular panel of judges you draw that year. Some contests disavow any attention to a song’s commercial potential; others reward it. Some contests attempt to focus exclusively on the song, disregarding performance; other contests explicitly include performance skills in their evaluation. Some festival showcases shoot for some measure of “balance” within the universe of artists they present; most song contests don’t have to worry about that. In short, different contests employ different criteria for judging songs.

However, although it is useful to know how a particular contest will be judging your song before you send in a submission, BMI’s Cohen advises writers not to try and second guess judges too much: “Don’t say to yourself ‘what do they want to hear?,’ says Cohen. “Write in your style, uniquely, and write well. The songs that stand out are original and solid...not formulaic or the ones people expected.”

"I Wanna Be Moved"

By far the most common response judges gave when asked what they were looking for in a song was some variation on “I wanna be moved.” Peter Yarrow says that from the beginning, the New Folk Showcase had only two criteria: “songcraft and the degree to which the songs moved the soul.” Unisong’s Brett Perkins says “It’s about a great song, and no one can define what that is other than that it moved them.” And Michael Lille, who was asked to judge the Telluride Troubadour competition subsequent to his 1993 appearance, says of his judging experience: “You know when a song moves you. I went on my gut.”

As you might imagine, although most judges agreed that they wanted to be moved, they all offered slightly different advice on what was most likely to do the job. Kerrville’s Rod Kennedy says he is “looking for something that is fresh and new but sounds familiar...a song with a beginning and an end, that doesn’t wander, with an appropriate melody to support the lyrics, harmonic values, and original and clever use of clichÈs. ClichÈs can be a very communicative means of visualizing something...We are looking for songs that are well crafted...not necessarily hit songs at Kerrville.”

Napa Director Alan Arnopole shares Kennedy’s lack of concern for a song’s commercial potential, but does zero in on its entertainment value: “Does it grab me? As a producer, I like to be entertained. If it’s good, it’ll entertain me. I’m a musician myself. I like good songs. A lot of times a little humor never hurts.” Sonny Ochs, Showcase Committee Chair for the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival says she is also “looking for someone with a sense of humor...(but also for songs)...with political significance. I don’t care whether you love your girlfriend or not. I’m not interested. Tell me about the air I breathe...And performance matters. When I’m listening, I’m imagining that person on stage.” LASS’ Braheny cuts right to the chase: “If you’re getting judges that are mostly or all music industry people, the more commercial work generally wins...in the back of their minds, the judges are thinking ‘could one of these songs wind up being a hit song and validate the contest?’”

As you can see, there is no “one size fits all” approach to song contests. However, there were some lessons my interviewees offered that do apply across contests and musical genres:

1) Put your best song first.
Judges often have so many submissions to review that they will not stand on ceremony if what they hear doesn’t grab them. And you would be amazed at how fast they can move. “How long does it take you to change the radio station if you don ‘t like the song that’s playing?” asks Kerrville’s Kennedy. “If it’s out of tune...badly crafted… five seconds is often enough to tell you.” John Braheny agrees, saying: “If it’s undeveloped work, you’re gonna know that in the first 15-20 seconds. Rarely do people get through the entire song...especially if you’ve got a lyric sheet...If in the first 15 seconds, they’ve got total clichÈs, lines you’ve heard a million times before, no good concepts, if it doesn’t feel like it’s in the ballpark at all, and during that time you have the lyric sheet and you think no matter what they do, they’re not gonna interest me. It’s makes it very easy to decide this is not going to be the winner.”

2) Put your vocals up front and give the recording a simple, clean production.
A number of showcase producers and contest judges had stories about kitchen sink recordings that survived their judging process, but none of them recommended it. “Production does influence people,” says Braheny. “Particularly these days, when it’s easier for songwriters to realize their song as not just lyrics and melody...(but)...because of the availability of technology...to see it as a completed demo master.” Even when judges claim not to take production values into account, Michael Lille has his doubts: “It’s like giving a jury a piece of evidence and then asking them to forget it. People can try to be impartial, but it’s going to be a factor.” However, just because no one was advising the kitchen sink does not mean anyone was recommending spending a wad of money at a fancy studio. “The production has to be adequate,” declares Falcon Ridge’s Saunders. “Nashville studio or garage,” says Arnopole. “It doesn’t matter...just as long as the words are audible.”

3) Understand that judging contests is inherently subjective.
If you win, it’s a gift. If you don’t, it’s no big deal. “Of the twenty songwriters that get invited,” says Arnopole, “any could win. Because they’re all that good. So it all comes down to what’s going on with the judges that day.” Kerrville’s Kennedy agrees, saying: “Any six judges on any given day might pick a different artist in six. It’s an inexact science.”

Song Contests: Good Exposure or Pointless Competition?

If judging contests is so inexact, one might ask, why bother making such distinctions at all? And if you do, what real validity do those distinctions have anyway? Do song contests help or hurt the songwriting community?

Very few of the people I interviewed came out wholeheartedly in favor of competition. But neither did they come out against song contests and selective showcases. The prevailing sentiment seemed to be that competition was an inescapable dimension of our society and that song contests should therefore best be seen as one possible avenue for songwriters to get their songs heard.

“The world is a competitive place,” says Falcon Ridge’s Ochs. ..."X number of jobs, Y number of people...You can’t escape competition.” Ralph Jaccodine agrees: “We live in a society that loves contests, loves to judge people...Miss America...Fortune 500...To quantify music is a tough thing, but it’s gonna be done.” Charlie Hunter believes in the resilience of music makers and warns songwriters against getting too precious: “The folk community is strong enough and healthy enough to withstand any negativity that competition brings in,” says Hunter. This isn’t a world without grades. It’s not the Putney School.” And Ellis Paul implores aspiring artists to keep it real: “I’ve heard so many people say that they don’t want to be in a competition. But they’re kidding themselves. You gotta work as hard as you can to get yourself heard. The people who make it in this business are putting it on the line.”

Peter Yarrow remembers a time when there were far fewer opportunities for younger artists to perform: “There was a neglect of new singersongwriters… Tim Harden, Eric Andersen, Buffy St. Marie...none of them would have been heard otherwise. And they were very gifted people.” To Yarrow, the Kerrville New Folk Showcase is grounded in something quite different than competition. It’s about “the reconfirmation within the artist of their own worth to a group of people who is receptive to and appreciative of...what their music is about...The spirit of competition is less important than the spirit of unanimity. That spirit of unanimity, not competition, the hallmark of it, you see the family of this tradition assert itself (at Kerrville)...It’s one of my most beloved children.”

Unisong’s Brett Perkins has some advice for would-be song contest participants: “The question that every writer should ask themself,” says Perkins, “ is how much does this matter to me, and how do I feel about myself and my work regardless? You’ve got to be grounded in your own work because if the judges don’t have some interest in what you’re doing, you’re gonna get unraveled.”

“Contests have their place,” says Falcon Ridge’s Saunders. “But they don’t mean everything. If you feel you must do it, if it’s your cross to bear, if you can’t envision your life without performing, but you’ve been turned down, it means zip. Don’t give up.”

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