Mon - key nerve (mun’ke nurv) n. [< Southern American slang] Mischievous, mystical cord like fiber of the central nervous system located at the base of skull that  reacts spontaneously to cool song stimuli.
 
I was asked to participate in a panel discussing what we listened for in tapes submitted to us. During one of the live critiques of submitted songs I used a phrase that drew more response and questions, (as well as commentary in letters), than anything else I said that day. It was something to the effect that I want a song to “tickle my monkey nerve.”

There are as many opinions as there are experts in any given field, and song evaluation is no different. It is a very inexact science. Every critic brings his or her experience, likes and dislikes, and personal criteria to the job of evaluating the material submitted to us. I was struck that day on the panel by the wide range of things we look for in a song, (things I never think about), as well as the surprising number of similarities in method.

Some general areas of agreement among the experts on the panel that day: a great demo won’t help a mediocre song, good structure won’t mask a weak idea, and a simple heart felt emotion wins over clever craftsmanship every time.

As we were discussing how to polish certain aspects of a song, it struck me that a lot of times we, as writers, work backwards. We think in terms of form instead of content. Is the title catchy? Is the first line of the first verse strong enough to draw the listener in? Does the song build into the chorus? I can never remember if structured thinking is left or right brain, but I’m whichever one it is that wouldn’t know. I’m a feel guy.

On the panel I said that for me, what I judged a song by, was whether or not it tickled my “monkey nerve”. It is that spontaneous reaction that sends a shiver down your spine that feels so good. It’s just  “there.”  Everything technical in the song might be not quite perfect, but that spark, that phrase, that idea, that melody, will just make the listener jump. That little electric tingle is tickling the “monkey nerve.” Once you have that, then all the polishing and craftsmanship comes into play. Great singers, great producers, multinational record companies, and the entire music business, depend on that little quiver. Supply that, and you are in demand.

I learned the phrase in Memphis from Terry Manning, staff producer at Stax Records when he was seventeen, engineer for Led Zeppelin,  producer of Z.Z. Top, Albert King, and Furry Lewis among many others. He is also a southern American music connoisseur. He said the term came from New Orleans, maybe, maybe not. Wherever it came from, it ‘s when a sound is so good, a feel is so right, a lyric says so much, that you jerk before you think about it. Blues so bad it feels good. Something in the song that, if you have to explain it , they won’t understand it anyway.

I have heard publishers and record company A&R guys, comment that the hardest song to critique is a song that is just “good.” A lousy song is easy, there are obvious technical flaws to be pointed out and learned from. A great song is also a no brainer, any average person on the street can pick a hit song (they are the ones who buy them - remember?)

But a just “good” song, that’s a tricky one. Maybe the lyrics are ok, the melody is catchy, the structure is fine, but nothing grabs you - what can you say? It’s there or it’s not. It’s the “monkey nerve”  factor, you’re not being tickled.

There are songs that you can critique all day and find things technically wrong with that just grab people anyway. “Louie, Louie”, how would a we rate the lyric?  Check the box that says “I don’t understand it?” How about  “Achy, Breaky Heart”,  - “Not current sounding?” Doesn’t matter, they tickle, you jump.

The monkey nerve tickle is a high, it’s a thrill, and like any other high, it’s temporary. That’s where the craftsmanship of building a good song around the spark comes in. But you can’t have a good song without it. Well written songs without a good idea are like a relationship with no passion. Everything may look right, but the purpose is missing. And like a relationship, a great song takes work to build. Without the spark somebody loses interest along the way.

Start with tickling your monkey nerve. Does your idea get you excited? Then play your idea for someone else and watch them as they listen. Don’t listen to what they say. Not many people will tell you what they really think about your song.  You can tell what they think if you watch them as they listen. Ever notice how different a song sounds the first time you play it for someone else? You can feel what the other person feels. Did the “monkey nerve” get tickled? You don’t even have to ask them, “What do you think?” You already know.

Save yourself some money and time by asking yourself before you submit a song, “Does this song get me excited? Am I passionate about it? Does it tickle my “monkey nerve?”  If you want your song forwarded, if you want an executive to sit up and take notice, if you want the work you do to affect somebody else and communicate to another soul, start by tickling the most important “monkey nerve” in the world, yours.
 
Reprinted by permission from “Michael Anderson’s Little Black Book of Songwriting”
www.MichaelAnderson.com