The secret to writing a great biography? Tell your “STORY”
Musicians often ask me if there’s any point to having a biography. As someone who enjoys the specifics that each twist and turn of a good story entails, it pains me to respond with an elusive shrug whilst loosely uttering something along the lines of “It’s just how it is right for the artist”. I may as well have said, “How long is a piece of string?”
In short, there’s always a use. It just needs to suit the intention and as no artist is the same, every biography should tell a unique story. From language to length, the very best kind - which also succeed in their purpose – are like an artist’s mirror; they reflect their own story.
Just as music and lyrics are expression, the same applies to the artist biography. The words should serve as more than a sentence on the page; what is said and how, as well as what is not said, becomes an emotive opportunity to create a unique world for the reader to enter into and hold their hand as they’re guided towards becoming a listener.
A well-written biography will aim to present the artist’s universe and steer the conversation on the musician’s own terms, whether to influence the questions they hope to be asked or which scenes they’re inevitably grouped into. It can also be the difference between a DJ choosing to play a song and how they describe it, how a journalist writes about it, and simply getting a one-off gig or being offered a dream tour support.
Most musicians already know this and the pressure of writing ‘perfect’ paragraphs is what allows uncertainty to creep in. Knowing how and where to begin is the first hurdle and many artists unintentionally fall into a wordy dystopia of generic terms, clichés, jargon or at worst, rattling off a CV. Some will list the better-known artists they’ve supported on stage, others reluctantly rely on genre-shaped pigeonholes and locations beckon.
Such facts are not ‘wrong,’ but they often lack feeling. They echo well-worn terms used countless times before, lose meaning and often appear instead of otherwise more interesting - and distinctive - ideas that would help the artist to stand out from the crowd and be far more memorable.
Fortunately the fix is relatively straightforward. It takes extra time and effort to write a successful biography, but knowing your pitch was correct from the beginning will only bring satisfaction in the end. All you need to do is tell your “STORY”…
S is for “SELF”
Firstly, get your story straight. Who are you? Truly. Only once you understand yourself as an artist is it possible to know what to tell people. If you’re still figuring things out, that’s OK - most of us are! But even within that journey there will be something to talk about. Who have you been? Who are you now? Who have you always been? Why? And most importantly, how does that relate to your music?
The problem:
Proximity to any project and overthinking makes it tricky to spot what sets you apart from anyone else. Generalisations creep in e.g. “I’m a hip-hop artist” or “I’m a folk singer” – a great way to show what styles you identify with but equally great at preventing anyone from getting to understand and remember you. What if, instead of being a singer-songwriter from Scarborough (one in hundreds), you were an acoustic alchemist singing songs about growing up in a seaside town (one in ten)?
The solution:
Note down your key characteristics. Perhaps ask a good friend what they enjoy about your music or how they think it stands out. Specifics create individuals. You can still invoke an air of mystery if desired, in which case paint your world’s atmosphere through gently teasing information rather than omitting everything so the reader still has something to grab on to. If you want to be seen as part of a scene that’s fine, just be sure to include (either explicitly or implied) what you - and no-one else - is bringing to it.
T is for “TARGET”
Copywriting isn’t rocket science, but not considering why you’re writing the biography or who it’s to be read by makes it as useful as waving your words off on a one-way mission to Mars. Successfully told stories, whatever the end-goal, are often those which also go some way in giving the reader something, whoever they are, and equipping them with the necessary details to achieve their own mission.
The problem:
After months or years perfecting your sound and writing or recording something you’re proud of, you’ve run out of time or rush to get it out there and end up selling yourself short by quickly noting down a few uninspiring sentences that don’t entice people to listen. Your project is interpreted incorrectly or even worse, goes completely unnoticed.
The solution:
Step into the reader’s shoes. Roles reversed, what would you need to know in order for it to grab your attention? Think about what makes you want to listen to the music you love, or what piqued your interest when you last read about an artist who excited you.
Ask yourself if you’re preaching to the converted or enticing a new audience? i.e. will they understand your reference points or do they require some explanation? Will they have time to read a whole page of narrative or just need a few key facts?
O is for “OPENING”
Thanks to the influence of social media, most of us have the attention span of a goldfish (well done if you’ve even read to this point!) Nobody has time to waste, so don’t be coy (or should that be Koi?) Start with a hook that instantly reels the reader in. Fish puns aside, you get the gist.
The Problem:
We understand that stories have a beginning, a middle and an end. Books and films – even unusual ones – follow the three-act formula. It’s a tried and tested method that gives structure, but if it’s not adapted to suit an individual purpose, it’s perceived like everything that’s gone before it so the observer moves on, never getting to the good bit.
The Solution:
The ‘elevator’ pitch is your friend. If you were given only the time it’d take for a lift to move between floors to describe yourself as an artist and your music, you’d be forced to immediately jump to the important part. Refer to your list of unique points and choose the most enticing one as your introduction. Would you really read beyond the first sentence of an artist whose biography opens; “We’re an indie band from Rochdale.”? If the most interesting thing is that the latest song was written in the waiting room of a tattoo parlour, why not take the reader there first? There’s no rule stating your beginning can’t be the middle.
Once the reader is in your world, colour it with finer details; perhaps you’ll introduce characters (does your story feature collaborators?) Create tone through language that suits you - if a word doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t e.g. ‘murderous’ instead of ‘dark’ could add a more sinister twist to your tale.
R is for “RUTHLESS”
Or relevance, reduce and review (then repeat as many times as necessary!)
The problem:
There are a lot of words in a story. Whatever the purpose and whoever it’s aimed at, you will almost always write too much. Any longer than one A4 page, you should probably question how significant every detail is.
The Solution:
Go back to the start and filter out irrelevance. No one will know what’s left out, so remove anything which doesn’t add value. Challenge yourself to shave off a couple of hundred words. Break up long sentences. Can you reduce the word count by saying in a single sentence what you’ve said in five? Look for repetition; not only in words but also in meaning - have you said the same thing twice just in a different way? And if you’re a jazz singer, is there a way to swap out your 20 mentions of the word jazz?
Y is for “WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?”
Just like the hours spent in the practice room, the chances are you’ll have ridden the copywriting rollercoaster and experienced every creative pique and trough along the way.
The problem:
Like any muscle after serious exercise, your brain takes on a mind of its own and begins to fill in the gaps; it becomes an autocorrecting machine and whizzes your eyes past mistakes, repeated words and skips past the Clarks which should be Clarkes. Spellchecks won’t necessarily pick up every inaccuracy and after a good hour or so even the best brain cells can be rendered useless.
The Solution:
Like all tense and turbulent relationships often the best thing to do is take a step back. Move away from your computer, get some distance between yourself and the words and take a break, or even better, leave it to marinade overnight. Ask someone else to check it and give you feedback - is it exciting? Does it make sense? Then re-read it with fresh eyes; upon your return you’ll ALWAYS change something, guaranteed.
Lisa Durrant, Just The Type
