The Heartbreakers worked with a unique mix of producers over the years. How was it working with an established guy like Denny Cordell [Leon Russell, Joe Cocker, Procol Harum] so early on?

Stan: He taught me a lot, sometimes in very abstract ways. I was still young and I didn’t really understand what he meant by “groove” and “feel.” I remember asking Denny, “What does that mean, can you quantify that”? So he tells me he’s taking me to a Bob Marley & The Wailers gig, and he flips me the keys to his Ferrari. As we’re driving, he’s making me haul ass, and he says, “Stanley, driving a Ferrari fast, that’s what a groove feels like.” At the gig, Marley had the place hypnotized. Someone’s passing a joint through the balcony and Denny says, “That’s what a feel is.” He was just being helpful in his very ’70s way. Saying, “These are the things that feel incredibly good, that can’t be duplicated. You’ll know it when you know it.” Sure enough, we went back to the studio and we got two tracks that night. I was so vibed.

Did he offer more specific advice?

Stan: Oh, yeah. Again, in his own way. I remember having a really hard time once on some track. I was playing way too much, trying way too hard. So Denny, in that perfect English accent, he blows a big cloud of smoke and says, “Stan, if you leave all that shit behind and just play the groove, they’ll always misinterpret you as tasteful.” That was brilliant. [laughs]

Source: Modern Drummer

Related: Tom Petty on Cordell

Author Sheila Heti:

More and more as I get older, I want my writing and my life to interweave. I don’t want my books or writing itself to be something separate from what I would do anyway, or to be about something apart from what I am thinking anyway—my writing should be no differ­ent from my thoughts going through the day. I don’t know if I have come to this because I can’t seem to sepa­rate out a privileged space for writing, in which I imag­ine other worlds, or if it’s the reverse, but it’s important for writing and life to be fairly seamless; to be the same thing. So that I can come to the computer at any time—night or day, for ten minutes or two hours, and begin writing from where I am—from what I am thinking about. I want writing and living to be one thing, so that writing is just me living, but on the page—an extension of the living I was doing before I sat down to write.

Source: How to fall and fly at the same time by .

Author Derek Thompson on “the law of familiar surprises”:

Most of the time, audiences want to discover new things, but they are deeply enamored by familiar things, and so the critical challenge for most cultural producers is to make something that is optimally new; familiar but not too familiar; seemingly surprising but quietly traditional; a window to a new world that paradoxically shows you home…

Star Wars Episode IV, to pick just one example, was a wacky world-building exercise that combined classically western and eastern elements, but it was also literally the most basic story in human history—a purposefully executed, beat-for-beat, hero’s journey that George Lucas has said he modeled on the mythological research of Joseph Campbell.

Source: in How ‘Zombie Flow’ Took Over Culture

Author Claire-Louise Bennett:

One of the things I remember saying to myself was: whatever is weird about you — about your way of seeing things and doing things — is probably the thing you should be doing. But you have to do it more.

Because if you do it more, it becomes something.

So I think that’s the advice I would give. Rather than trying to conform, ask: what is weird about what you’re doing? What is weird about you? Not just a bit quirky, but find the core of it — and really get into that. Because that can be really interesting, and it can give you an awful lot, actually.

Source: Interview by Caroline Albertine Minor at the Louisiana Literature festival in 2022

Musician Billy Joel:

You need those tools. You need to know the different colors and what things do — what dissonance does, what tonality does, what atonality does. You need to know how to play chords differently.

If I didn’t have the dissonance in “And So It Goes,” it would sound like this.

[plays piano]

Which is kind of boring. So I threw in some dissonant notes. Suspensions. Suspensions are very effective because you want them to resolve — it creates a tension in the chord. And it conveys emotion in music.

Source:

Author Gary Provost:

This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety.

Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.

So write with a combination of short, medium, and long sentences. Create a sound that pleases the reader’s ear. Don’t just write words. Write music.

Source: Don’t Write Words, Write Music [Observer]

Related: 100 Ways to Improve Your Writing by Gary Provost

In this compact, easy-to-use volume you’ll find the eternal building blocks of good writing—from grammar and punctuation to topic sentences—as well as advice on challenges such as writer’s block and creating a strong title. It is a must-have resource—perfect for reading cover to cover, or just for keeping on hand for instant reference—now updated and refreshed for the first time.

Documentary filmmaker Beth M. Howard:

[Documentary filmmaking] can get so overwhelming so you just do the next thing. That’s it. ‘Don’t look ahead.’ And that’s been the single most helpful advice for this whole process. Because if I look too many steps ahead I would just panic, like a deer in the headlights.

Source: The Fort Madison (Iowa) Daily Democrat (via )

Author Verlyn Klinkenborg:

You may notice, as you write, that sentences often volunteer a shape of their own
And supply their own words as if they anticipated your thinking.
Those sentences are nearly always unacceptable,
Dull and unvarying, yielding only a small number of possible structures
And only the most predictable phrases, the inevitable clichés…

The writer’s job isn’t accepting sentences.
The job is making them, word by word.

Volunteer sentences,
Volunteer subjects,
Volunteer structures.
Avoid them all.

Source: Several short sentences about writing and Beware the volunteer sentence [via ]

Related:

Artist fnnch:

Humans like what I call the adjacent familiar — something similar to what they already like but different in an interesting way…

Some artists have made careers through simple repetition, but much more rewarding for you and your fans is the adjacent familiar. It is like pop music. People like to be pushed, but only slightly. The images you paint must be different from what has been done before, but once you find something that resonates, you can explore the adjacent territory. The whole body of work gains power as you develop it, and your audience gets to join for the ride, delighting in each new exploration.

If you look at every successful artist, you will find that their work is in some way repetitive. A Keith Haring work is so iconic because he repeated the same style so many times.

Source: The excellent How to Make a Living as an Artist (via JK)

Musician and songwriter Leonard Cohen:

In writing, if you can discard the slogans that naturally come to you, especially in a highly politicized time like we are now, where gender politics and regular politics and environmental politics, where there’s a good thing to say about everything if you’re on the right side, these times are very difficult to write in because the slogans really are jamming the airwaves…

It’s something that goes beyond what has been called political correctness. It’s a kind of tyranny of a posture, a kind of tyranny that exists today of what the right thing should be.

So those ideas are swarming through the air like locusts. And it’s difficult for the writer to determine what he really thinks about things, what he really feels about things.

So in my own case, I have to write the verse and then see if it’s a slogan or not and then toss it. But I can’t toss it until I’ve worked on it and seen what it really is. So I find that process of writing the verse and discarding it until I get down to something that doesn’t sound like a slogan, that doesn’t sound like something that’s easy, that surprises me.

Source:

Artist Sol LeWitt:

Do more. More nonsensical, more crazy, more machines, more breasts, penises, cunts, whatever—make them abound with nonsense. Try and tickle something inside you, your “weird humor.” You belong in the most secret part of you. Don’t worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you—draw and paint your fear and anxiety. And stop worrying about big, deep things such as “to decide on a purpose and way of life, a consistent approach to even some impossible end or even an imagined end.” You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO…

Try to do some BAD work—the worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell—you are not responsible for the world—you are only responsible for your work—so DO IT. And don’t think that your work has to conform to any preconceived form, idea or flavor. It can be anything you want it to be.

Source: The greatest pep talk in art history by

Screenwriter Rod Serling:

Instinctive creativity must be followed by the act, the physical act of putting it down, for a sense of permanence. Once you get that prod, that emotional jar, that I have witnessed something, or I have felt something, or I have seen something, or through observation, I have been moved by an event, I think the answer is get it down. Get it down quickly, write it down now.

Very often, by virtue of the very enormity of the emotion, you will write it down in perhaps a distorted fashion, or an improper fashion, or an incorrect fashion, or your values may be a little juxtaposed, you may be too moved by the emotion. You haven’t stepped far enough away back to get a perspective of the event.

But I think as a basic overall thing, the clue to the writer, to the creator, is don’t let it die aborting in the head, don’t let it exist as just a simple memory that will move you or will conjure up a beautiful tune later on.

Source:

Actor Ethan Hawke:

It’s an old acting adage, but specifics create dynamics in that, when it’s general, when you’re playing somebody who’s generally tired, there’s no dynamics there. You had two hours of sleep and you drank eight cups of coffee and you have an eye infection. That you can play. You know, just tired is boring, but specifics create dynamics.

Source:

Artist Peter Saul:

Read more

Philosopher and Rabbi Maimonides (aka Moses ben Maimon):

When I have a difficult subject before me — when I find the road narrow, and can see no other way of teaching a well established truth except by pleasing one intelligent man and displeasing ten thousand fools — I prefer to address myself to the one man, and to take no notice whatever of the condemnation of the multitude; I prefer to extricate that intelligent man from his embarrassment and show him the cause of his perplexity, so that he may attain perfection and be at peace.

Source: The 12th-Century Jewish Philosopher Moses Maimonides on Truth, Doubt, and How to Read Intelligently

Writer and TV showrunner Brad Neely:

I like art that feels like it was made by a free person.

I like to see how a person chooses things.

I like art before it gets noted and workshopped and homogenized.

I like art that preserves the rough edges of the person.

Polish can be taught, so it’s less interesting to me than that which can’t be.

I like when I can sense how someone really talks, feels, and thinks. I mean consciously so, but also unconsciously so. Every choice communicates. Even the “errors.”

I embrace the errors.

Source: Brad Neely on Embracing Errors When Making Art (via )

More from Neely:

When I set to work, I like to try to open up on the inside and let my unconscious drive as much as possible. Often, I do a drawing and then realize what it means. Sometimes it’s the dialogue or the caption that comes out first and then I must interpret myself with visual aids. Jokes and humor, I feel, come from the same depth as the deepest emotions. It’s a nervous energy that can blurt out in the most curious ways. Sometimes something from deep down in my dark well bubbles up and it is funny to me, but I can’t say why. So, I make a drawing of it. And then it’s such a treat to find that it somehow is also funny for others, too.

Musician Lou Reed:

I was an English major in college, for chrissakes. I ought to be able to put together a good lyric at the very least. It would be embarrassing if I couldn’t. And I really like rock. It’s party stuff, dance stuff and R&B; stuff that we all grew up on and loved. But I wanted something that would engage you mentally, that you could listen to on another level. I just thought that would be the perfect thing in rock 'n' roll. That 10 years from now you could still listen to one of my albums because it wasn’t just a party record, but something that would engage you emotionally, intellectually, if not spiritually, on the level that a novel can. And because you also have music going on, you could do something that no other form could do, especially if someone is listening on headphones. You could really get their attention and really take them someplace. You’re joining the voice in their head with your voice – there’s no one else there.

Source: Sound Opinions

Rapper Jay Z:

Read more

Actor Jerry Orbach:

In what I consider really interesting art or great art, there’s an element of danger. There’s elements of unpredictability. Great actors have an element of unpredictability, like a Brando, Bobby De Niro. You’re not sure what they’re going to do next. You just can’t predict where they’re going with any scene. You know, they’re liable to blow up, throw something through the window. You have no idea. So you’re always watching them fascinated, like you would a snake. And great theater should have that element to it too. You shouldn’t be able to predict what’s going to happen. You shouldn’t say, oh boy meets girl, boy loses, you know, boy gets. You shouldn’t be able to predict it. That’s what makes it really interesting and fascinating. That was part of what was. Broadway in the 40s and 50s and 60s even of going to 42nd Street, going to Times Square. There was an element of danger there too. You could get mugged, you know.

Author and marketing professor Adam Alter:

When you’re stuck at something — writing the first lines of a letter, painting a picture, coming up with creative ideas at work — spend five minutes coming up with the worst ideas you can. Allowing your words to flow pushes you to focus on the more abstract or general idea before your overcritical instincts snuff it out.

Source: 35 Simple Health Tips Experts Swear By [NYT]