The more you think about it the more it comes down to songwriting.
I blame the Beatles.
Why not? Half of them are dead and the other half are too rich to care.
Or maybe we should blame Bob Dylan.
I don't know quite where responsibility lies but at some point in the early 1960s people who sang songs, be they bands with those new-fangled electric guitars or dharma bums breaking from the traditional confines of folk music to explore a newly creative world of pop music, decided they should write their own material.
It seems obvious now, but this was not always the way. Until that decade demarcation ruled: there were people who wrote songs and people who sang those songs. Witness New York's Tin Pan Alley and Brill Building, songwriting factories for decades, whose practitioners stretched from Irving Berlin to Carole King.
But those pesky mop-tops and that smart-assed American got stuck into songwriting, and it turned out they were really good at it.
This sort of behaviour spread pretty quickly. Everyone noticed in 1963 when The Beatles had consecutive hits with 'Please Please Me’, ‘From Me To You’, ‘She Loves You’, and ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’. There was clearly a buck to be made, and if four scruffy kids from Liverpool could do it...
Mick 'n' Keith
That's what started Mick and Keith, in a rival London band. As Mr Richards recalls: “So what Andrew Oldham [their manager] did was lock us up in the kitchen for a night and say: “Don't come out without a song.” We sat around and came up with 'As Tears Go By'.” This is of course Keith's story so may have little bearing on reality, but it turned out they were really good at it too.
That's how it's been ever since: a performer is now generally expected to be a songwriter too. There are so many technically great singers, and great musicians in great bands, that what has become valued is not so much – or not only – the performance, but the initial act of creation. Fair enough. When you think of artists you like, it's usually because you like the songs.
Which brings me to Cybele Chapman.
Cybele just turned 14. A month ago she released her first album, 'Lesson Learned', and noted on Facebook: “This has almost taken two years to make! The goal was to have it out at 13 years old! There are 12 songs on the album to listen to. I chose 12 songs because 12 is my lucky number!”. It's on Spotify.
It was during the first Covid lockdown when Cybele took up guitar and developed an extraordinary passion and dedication to music. Fast forward, and in August last year she was invited to perform with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, a collaboration featuring her song 'Burning Up Tears'.
500 Songs
She has now, with influences ranging from Taylor Swift and Avril Lavigne to Miley Cyrus and Tate McRae, written around 500 songs, a simply ridiculous number to have written by her age. Or any age really. On the strength of the 12 songs on 'Lesson Learned' there's something very special going on here.
Tim Julian at Colourfield Studio has been key to recording and arranging the album and plays almost everything (drums, percussion, bass, keyboards, electric guitar, 12-string guitar, mandolin) and, refreshingly, Cybele actually looks and sounds like a 13-year old: She
sings well, though her voice is clearly a work in progress.
And the songs! They have catchy hooks a-plenty, an innate feel for lyrical rhythm, and variety in style and structure. Things can only get better as she discovers a more individual lyrical voice, but there's nothing wrong with the words here, across everything from rock belters to the more laid-back swing of 'Stop Thinking About Her'. There's the odd disturbing moment when the maturity of Cybele's lyrics - these are relationship songs - clashes with the youth of her voice but, really, the only apt reaction is amazement.
She's launching the album at The Jam Factory on September 16, 7pm with Tim playing bass along with Kurt Somervell (guitar) and drummer Steve Mills, and probably members of her school band Sunkissd. Tickets are $5.