Why Your Songs Don't Hit Hard Enough : 5 Songwriting Fixes

Marty and Clay make the case that chasing whatever's on the radio is the one strategy that can't win. You're late — by the time a major artist cuts your song, the moment has moved — and even on time, you're up against the writers and artists already doing it better. The breakthroughs they point to — Chappell Roan's "Pink Pony Club," Kenny Chesney's "American Kids" — all sounded unfamiliar the first time anyone heard them. They also cover the references and slang that expire on you, and the one-element trick for using an influence without copying it. The goal isn't to sound current. It's to sound like you. Write on.

Marty and Clay break down what pro writers mean by “furniture” — the concrete images you can see, touch and feel — and walk through when a song needs it, how much is too much, and when it quietly kills the emotion instead of carrying it. The test to steal: write the song, then pull one image out and see whether anything is lost. If nothing is, it was never doing any work. Write on.

Marty and Clay take on the rookie trap of writing one melody and then being unable to hear anything else — and hand over seven working tricks for shaking it loose, from moving your starting note, to singing outside the chord, to flipping the whole line upside down. Along the way Clay tells the story of a riff he sat on for two months that only unlocked when he sat down at a piano instead of his guitar — and became a Trisha Yearwood cut. The through line: hold your melody loosely, because there's always a better one out there you haven't written yet. Write on.

Marty and Clay take on the question they get asked constantly: how do you know when a song is actually finished? They walk through five signals — The through line: you never have to do everything perfect, you just have to do enough things right. Write on.

Marty and Clay walk through six things every songwriter hits on the way up — starting with the one nobody warns you about: a first taste of success can knock you sideways just as hard as a failure can. Along the way there's the guaranteed Carrie Underwood single that never came out, the week Marty spent looking up night law schools in Nashville, and Brett James quitting songwriting for med school right before 35 cuts landed in a single year. The through line is simple: go back home to why you started, and hold on to your core no matter which way it breaks. Write on.