Jeffrey Steele – 2009 Road Rally Keynote Interview

Editor's note: Normally, we'd put a bio about the interviewee here. This interview is so good we didn't want to edit much out to create space for Jeffrey's incredibly long and impressive bio. To see it, please go to his site: www.jeffreysteele.net/about/

I hear people complain about writers who add a word, get a third. You know, you go into the writing meeting with the best of intentions, but it comes out non-productive, and somebody has contributed something minor. Does that stick in your craw and make it difficult to go for another one of those? Or do you just keep forging ahead and doing them...?
To me, that whole phrase... and I know it's not the same everywhere as it is in Nashville. But in Nashville, man, if you're in the room and you're pourin' the coffee—and I think that should be an if instead of a but—and that's all you do all day. To me, if you weren't in that room with me, we wouldn't have found that song that day. Whatever you were sayin', doin', actin'—or even if I sat there thinking and you weren't doing nothing—whatever motivated me to get that song that day, we got the song. Hell, man, 50%, 33%... People always ask me those questions. Share the love.

I see people who are 10 or 15 years away from having their first success—and it's obvious to me, because I've been around long enough to know it when I see it—but they're worried about that write a word, get a third-thing, and they shouldn't be worried.

	Jeffrey never forgets to honor his late son Alex, whose name appears on his hand.

Right now they should be worried about having a hit and writing a great song.
Yeah, they should be worried about just getting better every day. And I know that sounds like clichéd advice, but if you get caught up in that deal... Sometimes you're right about it and sometimes you're wrong, and sometimes it just doesn't matter, you know? I've had songs that I've been on that I wasn't a big contributor. Every time you get into the room with somebody, you're either gonna be the A-writer or the B-writer or the C-writer. You're gonna be that guy who's driving the truck, or you're going to be the guy who's sittin' beside the guy who's drivin' the truck, or you're gonna be the guy gettin' coffee for the guy drivin' the truck, or maybe just editing that guy, going, "I don't like the way that sounds..." That might be your role the whole day. I always felt like if you're in the room, you're in the room, you know?

Great attitude.
I mean, you have to. Because if you think that way, you're gonna get stuck in that place. You're not doing music, you're worried about money, honest to God. And there could be fifty people who could have an argument with me for that. You know, "No way, dude; that was my idea." So what, man? You're gonna make a hundred thousand frickin' dollars. OK, so now you're only gonna get $80,000 or $75,000.

I just had this with these guys I was producing. Shut me up if you need to shut me up... They had this song—it was a four-way, and however they got to the song, I don't know—I was producing the album. So when I heard the song... It was a pretty cool song, but being a producer I'm trying to figure out a way to make this a hit song. I think it has potential, but the arrangement's not great. So, I threw in some ideas and changed it around, we put in some really cool little riffs and stuff, and it ended up sounding really cool. The track sounded huge. Until later on, after going through the motions with the record, they called me up and said,

“...just strive for the best lyric you can find. I always think the lyric is just the bottom line. It's just the most important thing there is.”

"Hey, Jeff, you know we got five writers on that song, and you made that song what it is because you changed..." And I'm like, "Ah, dude, that's what you hired me for. You're payin' me to do that. Don't worry about that. That's why I'm the producer—that's my job." And he goes, "Yeah, but the guy that we were in the room with that day... That one guy, he didn't really do anything. He didn't do anything, so we want to get his name off of it." He was really adamant. And here was this guy who just got his first record deal; he's got a record coming out with eight or nine songs that he wrote on it, so, if it does well, he's gonna do good, and he was worried about this one song having five writers. So I said, "Man, just take me off of it—I don't need to be on it. That's my job." And he says, "We're not taking you off." I said, "Well, look, split up five guys, 20% each. So, what are you gonna do? Knock the guy out for five more percent on a song that probably won't be a single but it's a cool track? I don't think it'll be a single, but you're gonna knock the guy off because he didn't do enough to get five more percent of a song? C'mon, man. Write songs, man." You've got to. [applause] I mean, you will get 'em. And I know that stuff gets tricky, and everybody feels like, "Well, this might be my only one. You know what I mean? It might be my only one."

Sounds familiar. People get precious about a song because in the moment it feels like the best thing they've ever written. And it might be, but there will always be others.
Yeah, and I think if you feel that way then you're already kind of cutting yourself off to get that next song, if you get too hung up on a song. You've just got to get to your next one and make that one better.

I want to ask you one more question before I have you play something for us. I appreciate you singing first thing in the morning. I know it's not the favorite thing for singers to do.

Is success like a flywheel? Like a flywheel that gains momentum, and once it gains momentum, it keeps going and it's easier to maintain the momentum? I know you worked hard to get here. Now that you're this multi-dimensional guy—you're a producer, you're a songwriter, you're a TV star, you're a performer, you're a rock star. You are all this stuff; you've really got it all going on. Is it harder to maintain the momentum—that flywheel—once you get there, or does it become a little more coast-y once you're there? Do you still work as hard as you used to?

“To me it's still about finding a new rhyme for love. I still get the big- gest kick out of being able to twist a phrase and get a chord. I still get the biggest joy out of that more than anything that I do.”

Yeah, but it's on the music. All the other stuff... I am so grateful for so many opportunities that have come my way, but they don't mean nothing to me in terms of... Do you know what I mean? To me it's still about finding a new rhyme for love. I still get the biggest kick out of being able to twist a phrase and get a chord. I still get the biggest joy out of that more than anything that I do. I always hold on to that and I never let that go, because stuff gets pretty crazy, and over the years I've lived a crazy life. I've had a lot of success and a lot of tragedy and a lot of fuck-ups, may I say? (I'm sorry for the language.) New places I'm coming to know in my mind, with just coming to terms with who I am and what got me to where I am, and trying to evolve and get better at the side of me that was... The music side of me is just a no-brainer. It's just a no-brainer. But that stuff can just get too out of hand, and it has gotten out of hand for me over the years. But I'm learning every day, and I'm just trying to bring that stuff into my music.

You've got to write what's in your heart, you know? All these things, and especially things that you're afraid of to say—truths and things you just don't want to talk about in your music. Man, people want to hear that stuff so bad. They're dying to hear it. You know, when I wrote "What Hurts the Most," everybody in town for seven years told me that no one's gonna cut the song because it's too depressing, and it's been one of the biggest hits I've ever had. Everywhere I go, everyone's touched by the sadness of that lyric and how there's some sort of thread of optimism in that lyric even though it's sad. And I didn't get a lot of that. I just wrote it, you know, and then I get some perspective years later and look back on it and think, "Wow, this is really a cool job." There is a real responsibility here. It's not only fun, but there's real stuff... I mean, people want those emotions so badly. And a lot of times as writers—and especially in co-writing situations—we don't want to open up too much and give those things away. But, when you do, and the chords are right, shit, man...and you get a lot of money.

I don't know about you guys, but still people come up to me and say, "Jeff, when I heard that song for the first time I was drivin' in my car and I had to pull off to the side of the road and cry." And then I cry and I ask them why, what happened, what was it? 'Cause I'm still doin' research, right? But when you hit somebody like that, man, it's...

Craig Wiseman told me one time... And I always tell this to people. If you're thinking about anything more than the joy that you're having in the room that day writing that song, then you're over thinking it. And, obviously, you guys are here, you're learning more about the business and the industry and all the things that go on, and how to get your songs cut. Yes! And most of you are independent, right? Wow. Amen, brothers and sisters. I am too. For six years now, I've been on my own trying to figure this thing out myself too. So you've got to learn this stuff. You can't downplay your education, and the more you know, the more you know, you know? It's so important. But you've got to find some line there on your creative side where you still take those risks and forget the business and dig into the business of your heart more, and just strive for the best lyric you can find. I always think the lyric is just the bottom line. It's just the most important thing there is.

Well, you do a damn good job of it. [applause] We've got about seven minutes to play some stuff.
Seven minutes? Anybody ever see me sing before? So, the people that raised their hands know that seven minutes is not enough time. No, I'm fine with that. But cut me off, because I tend to get carried away. Shall I go over there now? [applause]

[He goes over to the piano.]

It's a little different than mine. I'm just looking for a straight piano sound. There we go. Romantic piano... Let's see how that sounds. They weren't kidding. That's another thing, too. I'm kinda not much of a gear sort of geek like some people are. I don't know if any of you guys out there are.

Steele performs a song on keyboard right after the interview.

You know, in the last three years—and this is really not an impressive thing—I taught myself how to run my Pro Tools rig, instead of bringing a guy in to do it. I just do it all myself, and now I'm 10 times smarter when I go work on a record. I am 10 times more aware of what's going on with everything I do in the studio. So I think, too, the other thing is to just keep learning all this stuff. You have to keep evolving and learning. And if you don't, then you need to be really good at doing the one thing that you do. I'm not saying that as a joke. I mean, if you have the one certain thing that you do, then you find out how to be the best one at that.

I was at the Durango Songwriters Festival a few years ago. A girl named Alissa Moreno who I've been seeing there every year playing her music, and I was just really blown away by her. I was going to do a show one night for the festival, and she was in the back room behind the kitchen playing this on the piano. [he plays the melody] She's in this dark room next to the kitchen. And I say, "What are you playin' there? What's that?" And she says, "Oh, just something I'm doing. It's some exercise." I think that's what she said; something like that. So I said, "I've got the lyric for that. I really do. Hang on one second; let me get my book." Sorry, Michael, I'm talking so much. I like to set these things up.

So, flashback three years before, I'm at this Second Harvest Food Bank fundraiser in Nashville—big concert fundraiser. I go to this dinner and I see this friend of mine, a girl named Sarah Buxton—a great singer/songwriter, haven't seen her in a while—and she comes up and she hugs me and we say our hellos. Then another car pulls up and this other girl gets out and it's her roommate. She says, "Oh, Jeff, I want you to meet my roommate. I swear this girl... every day she saves my life." I think, "Hmm, every day you save my life." I got out of there; never made the dinner; gonna write a hit song that night, and I didn't. I just wrote it down and I just put it away. I thought I had the genius title of the century. At that moment it was all in my head, and I didn't write it until a couple years later when saw Alissa playin' this on the piano. The lyric came to me through that melody I was hearing. I could start hearing how it would go, and this is what came out. Rascal Flatts recorded it a couple years ago.

[He goes to the keyboard on stage and performs "Every Day You Save My Life."]

[He picks up guitar and plays a few bars from "Ring of Fire."]

What a great song. That's the thing—there are songs like that you look at and go, "God, I want to write something that's that great." Then you try to copy that style and that form, and then you realize you're never gonna write that song, dude. You've got to figure out your own deal.

By the way, Michael, thank you for everything, buddy. I appreciate you, I do. I love ya.

Here's the song he was talkin' about which started with me takin' out my guitar and tuning it up and my co-writer going, "What are you playin' there?" Every time I take out my guitar I always do this open E to just make sure my guitar is in tune. And he says, "What are you playin'? That's a cool intro." "It is? I've been doin' it for 20 years and never realized."

[For the next twenty minutes, everyone in the main ballroom at the Road Rally was riveted to their seats watching Jeffrey light up the stage, playing hit after hit, after hit!]