Composing

Are you someone who hears the cue before touching an instrument…

or does it reveal itself note by note?

I’ve noticed both approaches lead to very different results.

Have you ever found yourself so immersed in one sound, artist, or musical world that everything else fades into the background—not from being stuck, but from a kind of quiet contentment?

Most composing problems aren’t musical — they’re upstream. The cue only stabilizes once you define the job it’s supposed to do.

A few quick anchors:

- What job is the cue hired for in the story

- What pressure the scene applies (escalation, containment, misdirection, etc.)

- What the cue’s identity is before orchestration

- What the cue is not allowed to do

- How the cue exits

When those pieces are clear, the writing becomes execution, not searching.

If anyone wants, I can share a simple upstream template that locks this in.

PART 1 — BEFORE SOUND: WHAT PRESSURE IS THE STORY ASKING THE MUSIC TO HOLD?

Music doesn’t begin with melody — it begins with pressure.

Every story contains a tension the audience must feel before they understand it.

When that pressure is named upstream, the score stops being decorative and becomes structural, carrying the emotional load the narrative cannot speak aloud.

PART 2 — BEFORE THEME: WHAT EMOTIONAL CONTRADICTION DEFINES THE CHARACTER’S INNER SYSTEM?

A theme is not a tune — it’s a contradiction made audible.

Characters live between two emotional truths they cannot reconcile.

Once that contradiction is identified, the theme becomes the sonic expression of the character’s internal fracture, not a motif chosen for aesthetic reasons.

PART 3 — BEFORE PALETTE: WHAT BEHAVIOR MUST THE MUSIC MAKE IMPOSSIBLE?

Instrumentation is not about color — it’s about governance.

Upstream clarity begins by naming the emotional behaviors the score must prevent: detachment, confusion, over‑explanation, or tonal drift.

When the palette is chosen to enforce those boundaries, the music becomes a stabilizing force inside the story’s emotional system.

PART 4 — BEFORE CUE: WHAT DECISION IS THE AUDIENCE BEING PREPARED TO MAKE?

A cue is not a moment — it’s a nudge toward a decision the audience must eventually face.

Every scene pushes the viewer closer to an emotional or moral commitment.

When that decision is named upstream, each cue becomes a precise application of pressure, guiding the audience toward the story’s inevitable truth.

Hey Composing Lounge,

I want to take a moment to share some very sad news with this community.

Four-time Emmy nominated composer Guy Moon has passed away at the age of 63. According to his family and the Los Angeles County Medical Examiner, Guy was killed Thursday morning in an accidental traffic collision and succumbed to traumatic injuries.

Guy’s music shaped the childhoods and creative imaginations of millions. He was the Annie Award winning composer behind Nickelodeon’s The Fairly OddParents, and also composed for two more Butch Hartman created series, Danny Phantom (including its unforgettable theme) and T.U.F.F. Puppy. His work carried an incredible sense of personality, humor, and emotional clarity that many associate with why those shows still resonate today.

Beyond those iconic series, Guy’s career spanned an extraordinary range of projects. He contributed music to Big Time Rush, Netflix’s Johnny Test, Back at the Barnyard, Cow and Chicken, and The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy. On the film side, his credits included The Brady Bunch Movie, A Very Brady Sequel, The Crash, and the live-action Fairly OddParents films, along with contributions to soundtracks for Minority Report, Fight Club, and Mystic Pizza. More recently, he expanded further into live action with his original score for The Green Veil.

For those who want to hear directly from Guy about his journey, I highly recommend this interview with Butch Hartman, where Guy talks about breaking into music and his time working with Nickelodeon. It’s a generous, inspiring conversation and a wonderful way to remember him:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFGNq7vqkm0

Guy Moon leaves behind an enormous musical legacy, one built on joy, craft, and a deep understanding of how music supports story and character. His work will continue to inspire composers, animators, and storytellers for generations.

If his music shaped your creative path or left a mark on you growing up, feel free to share a memory or favorite cue below.

When you’re writing for a scene, do you tend to lean more toward subtle emotional support or bold, theme-driven music?

A Fun Composing Exercise

I posted a "sister" exercise in the screenwriting lounge, and it was so much fun I'm posting here too.

Ok, In my day job, have access to new names every single day. Sometimes, when I need to blow out the creative cobwebs (especailly after SIX WEEKS of non-stop holiday madness) I give myself a creative writing exercise. I thought I'd share it with you. BTW I only ever grab first or last names, never both so no privacy issues ever. I'll even do this as I watch film credits sometimes. I grab a first name, and a last name and then I create a song for them. Ready for the NAME BANK?

FIRST NAMES

Justus

Kynzi

Kenrick

Armetrius

Laiken

Brendalen

Roy

Wyatt

LAST NAMES

Possa

Morehouse

Dupuey

Razer

Stanberry

Latour

Wiley

So, the idea is something like this. Write one of two:

1. Describe a theme based on a charater name like this one: Kynzi & Kenrick Razer who's parents started the scooter empire in the early 2000s are over their parents' invention. They just want to try roller skates- their parents refuse (bad brand optics) until zombies appear in their town and all ride Razer scooters. The brave 12 year old twins must roller skate to saftey along with their Great Pyrenese Dupuey.

2. Write lyrics based on a name:

Roy Possa loved Laiken with alll of his heart

She never knew he existed, right at the start

He'd gaze at her longingly through windows at night

Wondering if ever she'd put up a fight

For love

For the sake of their hearts

Could they risk

For love

Laiken was moving to Richmond the next afternoon

Roy was broken his love going way too soon

Cause he'd never told her the depth of his heart

And soon she'd just leave him alone in the dark

Let's see what we can come up with :) Yep- the lyrics are pretty bad AND I only give myself 5-10 minutes to try to come up with something and get the creative juices flowing! So no judgment- let's try something new!

Most conversations in composing focus on the sound:

- melody

- harmony

- orchestration

- plugins

- stems

- workflow

- delivery formats

All important. All necessary. All downstream.

But upstream, there’s a question almost no composer asks — and it quietly determines whether their music becomes a project, a catalog, or just a file on a hard drive.

“What is the actual identity of the thing I’m creating?”

Because here’s the clarity:

A cue is not automatically an asset.

A track is not automatically a deliverable.

A composition is not automatically a project.

Most music collapses downstream because the upstream identity was never defined.

⭐ THE REAL DISTINCTION: MUSIC VS. MUSICAL ASSET

When you write music, you’re creating sound.

When you build an asset, you’re creating something that:

- has a clear owner

- has defined rights

- has predictable behavior

- can be licensed, reused, or scaled

- can survive collaboration, revision, and production

The difference isn’t creative — it’s structural.

A cue that behaves like an asset moves differently in the real world than a cue that behaves like a file.

⭐ THE UPSTREAM CLARITY

Before you compose, ask:

“Is this a piece of music…

or is this a component of a larger system?”

Because the answer changes:

- how you structure your rights

- how you deliver your stems

- how you collaborate with directors

- how you negotiate your usage

- how your catalog grows

- how your work survives beyond the project

Composers who think upstream don’t just write cues —

they build containers that their music can live in.

Most conversations in composing focus on:

- melody

- harmony

- orchestration

- sound design

- workflow

- plugins

- DAWs

All important.

All necessary.

All downstream.

But there’s an upstream question almost no composer asks — and it quietly determines whether their music becomes a project, whether that project becomes a deal, and whether that deal survives the real world.

Here it is:

“What exactly am I creating — a piece of music, or a usable asset?”

Because if the answer is unclear:

- cues get reused without clarity

- rights drift across collaborators

- producers misunderstand what they’re licensing

- composers lose leverage

- backend evaporates

- the music becomes harder to protect, monetize, or scale

Most composers never see this upstream layer because the industry trains them to focus on the notes, not the identity of the thing the notes create.

So here’s the clarity:

A composition isn’t just sound — it’s an asset container.

If the container is unstable, everything downstream becomes unstable.

The composers who understand this move differently:

- they negotiate differently

- they deliver differently

- they protect their work differently

- they collaborate differently

- they build catalogs instead of isolated tracks

So I’ll leave the room with this:

When you compose, are you creating music…

or are you building an asset?

The answer changes everything.

Not because it was wrong…

just because it was too much, or didn’t belong anymore. Less is more, most of the time.

I’m always surprised how often the fix is removing the thing I liked most.