Writing their way to musical success
Two are among six finalists in Suwannee Springfest competition
By ROGER BULL -- The Times-Union, The Times-Union
It is the most basic of music presentations: One musician on stage, armed only with an acoustic guitar, playing a song that he wrote, that she wrote. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no place to hide.
They're two of the six finalists, chosen from about 120 entrants, in the annual songwriting contest at Suwannee Springfest. All six will compete for the prize next Thursday, opening the festival.
They'll also play Saturday night at European Street, as part of a continuing songwriters circle.
The two musicians have come to that place on the stage through different routes. Saddler is 21, born and raised in Jacksonville and doesn't weigh much more than her guitar. She's self-taught with no musical training other than a bit of singing in church.
Lightfoot is 28 and grew up all over the place before settling in Jacksonville eight years ago. And he studied opera in college. Opera.
But at East Carolina University, he came to a point where he had to make a decision.
"My professor said I had a nice voice," Lightfoot said, "but that I'd never be Pavarotti."
So that ended opera. He came to Jacksonville, where his father had retired to from the Navy, and started studying public relations at the University of North Florida.
The year was 2000, and it was a good time for someone learning to be a songwriter.
"There was a lot more happening in Five Points, then," he said. "A lot more for a guy who wanted to write.
"They had the old Fuel open mike night, that was the first thing I did. And Starlight Cafe, Boomtown.
"Starlight was great. I'd do a gig and then head back over there to play some of the songs I really wanted to do."
He's had a few bands during the past eight years. The Lightfoot Brigade, the Daeighlies, Cowford Tramps. But it's always back to the solo . . .
For Saddler, it's all happened pretty quickly. She started playing guitar in her early teens, but didn't do much with it until last year.
Then she started going to open mike nights at the House of Jam, London Bridge and Coffee Roasters.
"I didn't think I was anything special," she said.
But Ray Lewis and Larry Mangum, two guys active in the local music scene for a long time, noticed her.
Less than a year later, she's recorded an album (and celebrated its release on her 21st birthday), started a second and is playing out two or three times a week.
Just like their paths, their music is completely different.
Lightfoot's tunes are almost like bits of the classic songbook, from Boy Gone Crazy, which harkens to a bit of light blues swing from the 1930s, to the Japanese-tinged Orange Blossom Tea (Drink your orange blossom tea, I will carry all my caraway seeds . . . Figure that line out.)
His light, lyric tenor is simply prettier than you'd expect. And for him, the songs are all about the music.
"It all starts with the melody," he said. "Once it goes for a while in my head, once it's started to digest, it starts to mean something to me. I may have a song written before I start to write it down.
"If it doesn't stay in my head, it's not good enough.
"But I'm pretty scientific about it. I'm aware that you can only sing certain vowels on high notes."
Saddler's songs are straightforward, personal bits of folk songwriting that seem well past her 21 years: Taste a glass of wine, just to get you off my mind. I guess this is how it feels when a heart breaks.
"It's always different," she said. "Sometimes I'll write a guitar lick and think, 'You know what'd go well with that, an I-hate-guys song.' But mostly, it's about the words.
"With the music that I listen to, it's always songwriters with something to say. I can't listen to rap; it's always 'Let's go to the club and shoot someone.' I can't listen to metal because I can't understand the words."
So she has a shoe box full of napkins, paper towels, receipts with a few words scribbled on them.
"It's horrible," she said. "I bet it's been a month since I tried to go through it. There's so much in there."
Saddler works part time in a retail store. Lightfoot substitute teaches. At night, they place their guitar straps over their shoulders, face the crowd and sing their songs.
But there are not many places for people like them, for people who want to play pretty much their own songs.
"I'd do a Bob Dylan song," Saddler said, "and someone would say 'Do you know any Johnny Cash? Jimmy Buffett?' And I'd say, 'No, I just know that one.' "
"Drunk people," she said, "only want to hear songs they already know."
But she's built up a local following, and now people are starting to request Dirty South and Caroline.
Lightfoot said he's lucky if he can make it 50-50 between originals and covers.
"If you turn it up loud enough and play something they know, they'll listen," he said. "But that doesn't really satisfy the soul. You can only play Blister in the Sun about 100 times."
So they play on, working their part-time jobs, playing music when that works out.
"I don't see myself as a working musician," Lightfoot said. "I see myself as a songwriter who happens to get paid."
"Here's me, here's my guitar and here's what I play," Saddler said. "I really don't play that well, I don't sing that well, but I do have something to say."
roger.bull@jacksonville.com,
(904) 359-4296
Two are among six finalists in Suwannee Springfest competition
By ROGER BULL -- The Times-Union, The Times-Union
It is the most basic of music presentations: One musician on stage, armed only with an acoustic guitar, playing a song that he wrote, that she wrote. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no place to hide.
They're two of the six finalists, chosen from about 120 entrants, in the annual songwriting contest at Suwannee Springfest. All six will compete for the prize next Thursday, opening the festival.
They'll also play Saturday night at European Street, as part of a continuing songwriters circle.
The two musicians have come to that place on the stage through different routes. Saddler is 21, born and raised in Jacksonville and doesn't weigh much more than her guitar. She's self-taught with no musical training other than a bit of singing in church.
Lightfoot is 28 and grew up all over the place before settling in Jacksonville eight years ago. And he studied opera in college. Opera.
But at East Carolina University, he came to a point where he had to make a decision.
"My professor said I had a nice voice," Lightfoot said, "but that I'd never be Pavarotti."
So that ended opera. He came to Jacksonville, where his father had retired to from the Navy, and started studying public relations at the University of North Florida.
The year was 2000, and it was a good time for someone learning to be a songwriter.
"There was a lot more happening in Five Points, then," he said. "A lot more for a guy who wanted to write.
"They had the old Fuel open mike night, that was the first thing I did. And Starlight Cafe, Boomtown.
"Starlight was great. I'd do a gig and then head back over there to play some of the songs I really wanted to do."
He's had a few bands during the past eight years. The Lightfoot Brigade, the Daeighlies, Cowford Tramps. But it's always back to the solo . . .
For Saddler, it's all happened pretty quickly. She started playing guitar in her early teens, but didn't do much with it until last year.
Then she started going to open mike nights at the House of Jam, London Bridge and Coffee Roasters.
"I didn't think I was anything special," she said.
But Ray Lewis and Larry Mangum, two guys active in the local music scene for a long time, noticed her.
Less than a year later, she's recorded an album (and celebrated its release on her 21st birthday), started a second and is playing out two or three times a week.
Just like their paths, their music is completely different.
Lightfoot's tunes are almost like bits of the classic songbook, from Boy Gone Crazy, which harkens to a bit of light blues swing from the 1930s, to the Japanese-tinged Orange Blossom Tea (Drink your orange blossom tea, I will carry all my caraway seeds . . . Figure that line out.)
His light, lyric tenor is simply prettier than you'd expect. And for him, the songs are all about the music.
"It all starts with the melody," he said. "Once it goes for a while in my head, once it's started to digest, it starts to mean something to me. I may have a song written before I start to write it down.
"If it doesn't stay in my head, it's not good enough.
"But I'm pretty scientific about it. I'm aware that you can only sing certain vowels on high notes."
Saddler's songs are straightforward, personal bits of folk songwriting that seem well past her 21 years: Taste a glass of wine, just to get you off my mind. I guess this is how it feels when a heart breaks.
"It's always different," she said. "Sometimes I'll write a guitar lick and think, 'You know what'd go well with that, an I-hate-guys song.' But mostly, it's about the words.
"With the music that I listen to, it's always songwriters with something to say. I can't listen to rap; it's always 'Let's go to the club and shoot someone.' I can't listen to metal because I can't understand the words."
So she has a shoe box full of napkins, paper towels, receipts with a few words scribbled on them.
"It's horrible," she said. "I bet it's been a month since I tried to go through it. There's so much in there."
Saddler works part time in a retail store. Lightfoot substitute teaches. At night, they place their guitar straps over their shoulders, face the crowd and sing their songs.
But there are not many places for people like them, for people who want to play pretty much their own songs.
"I'd do a Bob Dylan song," Saddler said, "and someone would say 'Do you know any Johnny Cash? Jimmy Buffett?' And I'd say, 'No, I just know that one.' "
"Drunk people," she said, "only want to hear songs they already know."
But she's built up a local following, and now people are starting to request Dirty South and Caroline.
Lightfoot said he's lucky if he can make it 50-50 between originals and covers.
"If you turn it up loud enough and play something they know, they'll listen," he said. "But that doesn't really satisfy the soul. You can only play Blister in the Sun about 100 times."
So they play on, working their part-time jobs, playing music when that works out.
"I don't see myself as a working musician," Lightfoot said. "I see myself as a songwriter who happens to get paid."
"Here's me, here's my guitar and here's what I play," Saddler said. "I really don't play that well, I don't sing that well, but I do have something to say."
roger.bull@jacksonville.com,
(904) 359-4296
Copyright MaBeau Publishing 2007
