My Songwriting Adventure with Marnie Stern

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Another thirty minutes later, I am on my way home, armed with 47 seconds of a guitar intro, accompanied by Stern's scratch vocals (again layered), an agreedupon lyrical theme ("Operation Venus," per her designation), a delegation of responsibility (Stern = music; me = lyrics), and an agreement to chat at midnight via e-mail to compare our progress. Five days from then, via e-mail, her manager explains that Stern's schedule is a bit overwhelming, "hectic with foreign press," and "she simply doesn't feel comfortable releasing a song (collaborative or solo) without properly devoting the time and attention to it" And suddenly, I feel a little like I'm shining a light on an ailing car engine, only no one else is in the garage.

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My Songwriting Adventure with Marnie Stern

My Songwriting Adventure With Marnie Stern

Channeling exuberance and battling self-doubt on the Upper East Side

BY ROB TRUCKS

When I was younger, my father, on occasion, would barge into my room and bark something along the lines of: "Get up. We're going to work on the car." At which point I would follow him down to the garage in order to hold, per his instruction, an exquisitely caged 100-watt bulb with a long, orange handle and cord. Regardless of exactly which part of the c...

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