"yes and" composing

My Dearest Tortured Composer,

I write to you today with a tale of comedy.

And why I believe that the reason movies stopped being funny can give you a key lesson in how to get unstuck as a composer.

If you’re feeling unmotivated…

Like you’re not sure what to do next…

This could be an essential lesson for you.

And it comes from an unlikely place.

You see, there was a time when comedy was dominated by people who came up through a very specific system.

A school, if you will.

Places like Second City in Chicago. The Groundlings in Los Angeles.

These schools churned out some of the funniest people to ever live.

Bill Murray. Tina Fey. John Belushi. Steve Carell.

And at the core of what they taught was a single concept that every composer needs to understand.

It’s called “Yes And.”

You see, these schools taught improvisation. How to make something out of nothing on the spot.

And while you may feel like you are not improvising when you compose, in reality, you are.

You’re just making stuff up.

You just happen to have the sweet, succulent luxury of editing afterward.

When improvisers are on stage creating a scene, everything is “Yes And.”

If I say “There is an elephant, look out!”

You say “Yes, and we need to get out of here — head to the chopper!”

You do NOT say “No, that isn’t an elephant. It’s just a car.”

The moment you say no, everything dies.

But with “Yes And,” things start developing.

What started as a simple statement about an elephant morphs into something grand.

A whole world develops out of nowhere.

Now why is this relevant to you, you filthy little composer?

Because most composers say NO far too early in the process.

They write a melody, then immediately turn on the editor.

“No, that isn’t good enough.”

So they start scrapping.

Spending an hour, or weeks, on a single 8 bar phrase.

Tweaking like a syphilitic infected madman.

It’s like pressing the gas pedal and the brake pedal at the same time.

When in reality, a far better way to compose is to “Yes And” your ideas.

Let something come out. Then say yes to it.

“Yes, and I could add an Alberti bass underneath.”

“Yes, and I could transpose this up a semitone.”

“Yes, and what if the strings dropped out here entirely.”

You’d be shocked how quickly a piece can develop when you just keep saying yes.

So here’s what you could try.

Set a timer for 20 minutes.

Start writing notes.

Do not edit. At all. Not even a little.

First idea is the best idea.

Just keep going until the timer goes off.

Do this every day for a month and tell me you don’t feel more creative.

For one, you’ll have far more ideas to work with. Which means you won’t be so desperately attached to any single one of them.

Which is a very good place to be.

For two, when you start creating like this you start to activate something.

Ideas just start coming to you throughout the day.

You realize that mistakes don’t have to be mistakes.

Just different expressions of something you hadn’t considered yet.

The muses, it turns out, reward the composers that show up and say yes.

Give it a shot.

Next week I'll tell you about how to take all that Yes And composing and turn it into something even more valuable. Your own unique voice and style that people can recognize instantly.

Stay tuned.

And remember…

The world waits for your music…

-Luke