SONGWRITING SAVANT

By Kaleema Ishmel

“I don’t know any writers who have no intention of ever being seen, I just know that they’re not that concerned,” Sam muses.

Sam Dew is a 35-year-old singer-songwriter from Chicago, Illinois and has worked in the music industry for around 10 years. I have known him for a little over five. He is a fairly private person, generally preferring to allow his work to speak for itself. However, he agreed to sit down with me in his newly completed studio in Los Angeles to discuss his career as a songwriter.

The studio is verdant, in every sense of the word. Quirky, green chairs nestle against the softly buoyant soundproof walls. Faux moss creeps across the ceiling and center wall, interrupted by a massive curved television screen. “Dune” plays soundlessly in the background as I take my seat on the furriest green ottoman I have ever encountered.

Sam was most recently in the news for his work on Taylor Swift’s “Midnights” album and Kendrick Lamar’s spring release, “Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers.” His previous work includes writing and performing the hook to “LoveHate Thing” by Wale, as well as his work with artists including Rihanna, Jessie Ware and Mary J. Blige.

A typical 9-to-5 job has a first day of work, with training and an office tour. But what does a songwriter consider their first day in the music industry?

“It’s the first session that actually yields finances,” Sam said. “I’ve been making music for a long time, but the industry itself is defined by revenue. So, I would say the first day is probably the first session that yields a placement.”

In the music industry, a placement is a song that has been cleared for use, which usually includes licensing and syncing rights. Writers in this industry aren’t always guaranteed money for the work that they do. However, sessions often serve as a different kind of currency.

When describing how he defines a successful session, Sam said, “You can know immediately from the reaction that you get in the room that you did a good job. Whether they found a way to monetize it after the fact, there [are] a myriad of things that go into that equation. I’ve gotten that feeling walking out of a room and not gotten a placement. I’ve gotten that feeling walking out of a room and gotten more placements than I’ve ever expected, or callbacks and opportunities as a result of that. Sometimes rooms are an audition, just to see if they want to work with you in the future. Some of this stuff is irrelevant, what you’re doing is irrelevant, they just want to know if they can trust you with the real shit.”

This begs the question: if writing is more lucrative based on notoriety, how does someone who prefers to stay out of the spotlight survive in this industry? Sam said that many writers aren’t as concerned with marketing themselves on the performance side.

So, what differentiates a ghost writer from a songwriter in the industry at large? Do ghostwriters even exist? There is a moment of silence as Sam ponders the question wryly. The soft sound of passing traffic floats through the open door to his balcony.

“You could say that. I mean, I never had this veil over my head that I believed that this wasn’t happening. I always knew that there were writers, I just didn’t know to which degree. You just slowly start to see it. It’s different than it used to be. The industry used to just present you with a person and be like,” Sam said as he straightened up and flourished an imaginary tophat, “‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is the fellow who brought you so and so’ and you’d be like ‘I’ve never heard of this person in my life.’”

“So there’s this element that as a writer I typically don’t care about visibility. I don’t think it’s a lie, I just think it’s a piece of the puzzle. And you can use it just as much in scarcity as you can in multitudes. You don’t have to be this person constantly being visible. You can use the lack of visibility to your advantage. It’s still a conversation on the same thing,” Sam said.

Sam seems to appreciate the nuance of visibility.

In 2019 he did a three-city tour as part of the group Red Hearse, where he sat unassumingly in a bucket hat before shocking the crowd with his powerful range and falsetto. Then in 2021 he released his debut album “Moonlit Fools,” a subversive and moody R&B album with startling afro-futuristic visuals.

However, people may not realize he also cowrote “I Don’t Want to Live Forever” for “50 Shades Darker” or collaborated on “Turn Up the Sunshine” for “Minions: The Rise of Gru.” This is further evidence of a writer being able to be a part of big projects, without being big themselves.

Many of Sam’s colleagues are understandably just as private. So, I hopped on a Zoom with a few fans and non-entertainment associates. Due to their minor (or complete lack) of involvement in the music industry, their external opinions serve to contextualize how writing is viewed outside of those working directly in it.

For Tish Bazil, screenwriter and Chief Operations Officer for The Chavis Group, a global education, consulting and development firm, songwriting is an elevated art.

“Songwriters are visionaries. They take ideas in the spirit and the ethereal in the concept stage, and they ground it and tether it to the real world. Sam has a unique ability to elicit emotions through his unique combination of words and sounds. The power of those words can either edify or break down people, intentionally or unintentionally. As a creative, I respect and admire other artists, it’s bold and brave for someone to allow another to co-create. Not unlike a mother and a father giving birth to a newborn, an artist and songwriter collaboration is similar in nature,” said Bazil. But despite the beauty music can evoke, some individuals see beyond the apparent ease. Munah Kaye, a fifth grade teacher in Los Angeles, reiterates the unpredictability with placements.

“What also makes it tough is that you can give somebody this work or aspect of work, and you never know if it will be put out there or if it’ll see the light of day. What’s also rewarding is you get to be a voice for someone else, or someone else can be a voice for you. It goes both ways,” said Kaye.

Morgan Vinson was a winner of Bumble’s Empowered by Bumble Bizz songwriting contest and performer at the 2021 Music Midtown Festival at Piedmont Park in Atlanta, Georgia.

Vinson said, “Sometimes you’re not talented in writing music. So I think it’s fine for people who have more vocal talent than they do lyrical prowess to use writers. I don’t have issues with that. I have issues when it comes to people taking sole accountability for it and discrediting others’ contributions. That’s the only time I feel kind of weird. I think we know that artists are not writing all of their own music.”

For Sam, writers will always be important.

“When you choose to use a writer’s words for yourself, you’re saying this helps round out my world. This is what I keep coming back down to. I think music, in and of itself, is a collaborative art form. It does not exist without people. Everything you do in this business, in any business, will have to be of service to something. So you have to decide early on who you’re serving and never waver from that,” Sam said.