R.F.P.M.

In case you’re wondering…  “Radio-Friendly Pop Music”.

It’s a relatively new concept to me. And I use it because I try not to try to write songs (if that makes any sense). If I’m tryin’ too hard, it means the new song ain’t working.

But having an aspiration to write an R.F.P.M. song is helpful to me.

So what is an R.F.P.M. song? It’s generally under 3.5 minutes long (because, well, we humans have miniscule attention spans), it often has an upbeat tempo, and it has fairly simple lyrics. (One very experienced songwriter encouraged me to write lyrics with mainly 1 and 2 syllable words.)

Sounds a bit constraining, right? Actually, I feel that it’s quite the opposite. I find the R.F.P.M. approach liberating!

Personally, I don’t think like to think deep thoughts, especially when I’m writing lyrics. So keeping the story line and phrases in my songs simple keeps me from going down narrative rabbit holes, trying to get my characters in and out of conflicts and resolutions, hinting at their motivations, and yadda, yadda, yadda. 

C’mon. That’s a lot of work.

My R.F.P.M. heros are the Beatles (of course). Even in their most psychodelic-ky phase, they kept their lyrics straight-forward and relatable. Here’s a random lyric sample from these masters:

Lovely Rita, meter maid

Nothing can come between us

When it gets dark, I tow your heart away

Standing by a parking meter

When I caught a glimpse of Rita

Filling in the ticket in her little white book

Not a single word over two syllables in this first verse of “Lovely Rita”! 

As I mentioned, there are exceptions to these R.F.P.M. principles in my own songs. I do have a few that exceed the 3.5 minute mark, and I’ll occasionally throw in a high-syllable-count word. But any exception I make I have to believe is there to serve the song.

It’s so easy to fall into the trap of wanting to appear like a clever songwriter. (Guilty!) Sometimes (and I am no exception here), we fall in love with our own concocted turn of a phrase, or some brilliant stroke of onomatopoeia. In small doses, these devices can be charming, but I have seen many a fine song get so convoluted and thick with cleverness that I lose interest by the time the chorus rolls around.

I study those songs, and I learn.

Songwriting is a such a weird thing: at the same time: difficult, frustrating, joyful, and rewarding!