An Interview with Songwriter-Singer Georgia Middleman

“I don’t just write to get my feelings out. That’s not gonna get me on the radio.”

Georgia Middleman is an award-winning Nashville songwriter who has had songs recorded by Faith Hill, Kenny Chesney, Reba McEntire, Joe Nichols, Martina McBride, Sheila E., Radney Foster, Maia Sharp and many others. In 2011, she watched her song “I’m In” climb to the top of the country charts, courtesy of Keith Urban. Her song “When the Right One Comes Along” was featured in the ABC series “Nashville.” Georgia has sung backup for Carole King and Ringo Starr and has recorded five solo CDs of her own. She has also recorded and released two CDs with her trio Blue Sky Riders (featuring Georgia, Gary Burr and Kenny Loggins.) When Georgia’s not performing solo, you can find her performing as half of Middleman Burr along with her husband Gary Burr.

I read all about you. I love your pandemic blogs. I’m like, she has to get stuff out.

Wait. Do I have pandemic blogs?

On your website.

Yeah, on my website. I do have to get it out every six months.

I really liked learning about you and your husband and your different writing styles, and the types of songs you write.

You like some of those Blue Sky Rider songs?

Yeah.

Yeah, we are very proud of that stuff.

It’s great stuff.

Every time you work with someone different you get a different entity. Like Kenny and Gary and I always said, “There’s a fourth person in the room.” When we wrote together, what came out was a Blue Sky Rider’s sound. So, it wasn’t me, Kenny, or Gary. It was the three of us. It’s like alchemy when you work with somebody, and you just get something that’s beyond the two of you or the three of you. It’s something a little different if you’re open to it. If you’re not open to it, it’s not as fun … it’s all about the flow for me, and it’s about how open the people are in the room to ideas and letting it flow. And when people are resistant to it, it’s a really hard write for me. And sometimes, I am. Sometimes I’m the resistant one. And I notice I shut down. Like, if I have an idea and somebody goes, “No, no, that’s an awful idea” — if anybody ever said that to me, I would shut down.

I’m done.

Yeah, I’d be done because there is no awful idea. It’s just what resonates with you and what doesn’t. So, what you might think of as “I can’t relate to that at all.” Just might mean you’ve got the wrong person for the job. It just means maybe I haven’t found that collaborator yet. It doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. I just don’t believe in bad ideas. I just think that everything leads to something if you’re open to it. But you might pick the wrong partner for that project. And then you keep looking and find the right thing for those two people. But maybe what you just threw out isn’t the right thing. That’s the fun thing for me, the fishing part of a writing collaboration is, let’s throw stuff out there, and let’s just see. And if I see you go, “Ahhhh,” then I know we’ve got something, and that’s probably what we should work on, but if you’re like, “Yeah, that’s nice,” then I know it’s not the right project for us. Let’s find something else.

That’s a very interesting way to look at it. It’s better than shutting down.

Then it’s about ego and not about the idea anymore. It’s about “Ooh, you’re hurting my feelings.” When there’s a rub like that, then all creation shuts down, in my opinion.

It’s interesting you talk about creating. I think some people think that songwriters wake up and say, “I have the perfect idea for a song.” And it takes ten minutes to write, but in reality, it’s a lot of work.

Yes! It’s a craft.

Yes. And I don’t think people understand what it takes to write a song. They say, “Anyone can do that.” And I say, no, not really.

Nope. You learn.

You grew up in Texas. How did Texas influence you? Texas has a different vibe than any other state.

I feel like I was born in the wrong state. They have a pride, and there’s a thing about Texas that’s awesome. I just don’t feel like I fit in there. I don’t belong there. I had to go north as soon as I graduated high school. I was born in Houston and moved to San Antonio at six months old and grew up there. And as soon as I could, I tried to get to New York, so when I was 17, I applied for college at New York University, and I got in. And I’m also Jewish, and I found other Jewish kids there ’cause there weren’t very many Jewish kids where I lived in San Antonio. They were there, but I didn’t know where they were. In New York City, I felt like that’s where I fit in. It’s always about finding your place in the world, and I never felt at home in the South. For some reason, even when I got my record deal. And part of it was when I got a record deal with Giant Records, they sent me all over the country, and Texas didn’t respond to my music at all. But the Northeast and the West Coast did. And that felt right because I feel like my heart is where the ocean is or in the Northeast; I just love the cold weather. And the South was always hot and humid, and there’s something about it. I just never felt comfortable there. I don’t know why.

It just wasn’t your place.

No, no. You just know what works and what doesn’t. And you explore different things, and I was … I just felt good when I got to New York. And I don’t live there now. I live in the South now because there’s industry here in Nashville. And what made me move here was the love of storytelling and that some of my favorite songwriters … I just noticed they were all in Nashville, Tennessee, and I thought, I wanna learn how to do what they do, and that’s why I came here to learn how to write songs. And I love it here, and then it became industry, and then industry can be a double-sided thing like a double-edged sword. And I always say this, sorry, but there was a movie called Hope Floats. Did you ever see it?

Yeah.

Do you remember when Sandra Bullock’s character went out with Harry Connick Jr.’s character, and she met him while he was out painting houses?

Yes!

They went out on a date, and he said, “I want to show you something.” And he took her to his home, and it was this gorgeously crafted, built by hand, this wooden, just this amazing place. The detail was beautiful, and she said, “You did this?” and he said, “Yeah.” And she said, “I’m confused. You paint houses for a living when you can do this? Why?” And he said, “So I can continue loving doing this.”

So, once you’re in the industry. Once I became a professional at it, I was so lucky, and it was wonderful to be a part of that world, but then it became business and commerce, and I lost the joy of why I became a songwriter, which is why I moved to Nashville. There was something magical about songwriting and storytelling and the craft of that. And when I became a professional, I had a quota, and I was constantly … it was like a treadmill, and that wasn’t a bad thing. A big part of how I grew as a writer was being on that track. But you’re constantly having to go back, in my opinion, as a creative. You’re a professional, but you have to go back to the joy, go back to that well, and don’t forget about that otherwise, you burn yourself out, and that’s a really big thing with me.

That’s a great piece of advice for a lot of people because you have to treat it like a business because it is, but you also have to take that creative part of you and keep that intact. When you get together with another songwriter, is it sometimes difficult to find what you want to write about?

No, I’m all about reading the room and writing what’s in the room. That’s really important to me, and depending on whom you’re with, if that’s the objective of both people in the room, you’re going to get something. Because if you don’t, you’ll go “Okay, we didn’t get anything.” I’d almost rather that than force something. I’d rather just be honest about the moment that we couldn’t find it today, but we were both open and looking for it because generally, we find it when we’re both on the same page. Whatever it is if we’re both open to it.

When you guys finally figure out what’s going on in the room and you’re like, oh man, we’ve come up with a really good idea, even if it takes two or three hours, does it feel like everything flows?

Yeah.

It could take hours or even two sessions, or you just know.

It could take weeks.

Yeah, it could take weeks. But you know there’s something special within that particular song you’re writing.

Yes, that’s right. And when we’re in a good flow, and we get stuck, chances are we’re framing it wrong. There’s something we can “flip.” Flip the pronoun, or flip the perspective from first person to third person. There’s something you can do, a tweak, that opens the whole world to you, so, when I get stuck, I used to think, as a young writer, I used to think, I suck at this. Oh, my God, why can’t I figure out how to get out of this hole? We’re not at a good place. We’re at a stuck place, but the truth is, we’ve got one little detail off, and if we can just tweak it a little bit, it flips it on its head, and suddenly it opens up again, and that’s what I’ve come to realize as a professional writer is it takes some reframing and being willing to let go of all that investment of time you’ve put in … no it’s got to be this. No, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s this.

How interesting. I like the way that you think. You wrote a song Keith Urban sang called “I’m In,” is that right? And you recorded it.

Just recently. Not all those years ago. My co-writer recorded it first.

Right. What does it feel like when you turn on the radio, and you go, “That’s my song.”

It’s crazy. That’s what it feels like. It’s kind of crazy because you know what went into it. Nobody else. They just hear the finished version, and they’re like, oh, that’s a cool song, or I don’t like that song, or whatever they think. And you know what it took to get to that … and it wasn’t just that writing session. It was everything. All the years before that made you the writer you are and, like I said, the alchemy between you and that collaborator. And that’s what made that song.

That’s so neat!

That song went through a few, well, it took two sessions to write that one. But it was an interesting day. It was good. It was really fun.

I just saw a video where Dolly Parton is listening to Whitney Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You,” and she didn’t realize it was her song until Whitney sang the chorus. Dolly got so excited about the new version.

I don’t think she has children. Does she?

She does not. No.

I don’t either, and I look at my songs, and they’re not attached to me. They’re not precious to me in the sense that … I’m not gonna change something. If an artist goes, I love that, but I need this line different, I go, okay, I’m happy to do that, unless it’s the kind of song it’s just … it depends on the song. If I felt like we perfectly told it, I don’t want to change one line, but on the other hand … it’s a tricky thing, and that’s where commerce gets in the way. The songs are not precious to me. Most of my songs are craft, and I’m good at this, and I know how to fix it. If you have a problem with this one part, let me work on it, and I’ll give you another option. See if you love that, but some songs, I wonder if they’re empirically done. I don’t know. I think some are, but most of them, at least in my business, they’re done to my liking, but I’m not the one putting it out, and if there’s something else I can do to make it more palatable to this artist and yet, still pleasing to me as the writer where it doesn’t compromise my standards, I will. As long as it stays at that level and the integrity of the song hasn’t been compromised, I will work on it. I will change it for you if I feel like I can do that. If I can’t, I’ll tell ya. If I say, “Actually it’s done, and I’ve done that before. I tried, and it’s right,” and then they either record it, or they don’t. But in general, I’m willing to change things if it can make it bigger and better.

Not only are you a songwriter, but you also sing. I mention this because not all songwriters sing. And you also have acting experience from your time at NYU. So, you have a lot of perspectives. You and your husband did a song about how you met on a train, which I thought was brilliant, and when you finished the song, you said, “Nothing in that song was true.”

Our friend Tom Douglas always says, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

Yes! I had to learn that lesson. What I got from that story and the song was that that was theatre.

Exactly.

I really like the way you and your husband work on stage. Now, you and your husband write together. He’s a little bit older than you, and he’s been writing a little bit longer than you, so when you first started collaborating, did you instantly say, this is gonna be good?

In the beginning, when we first started writing together, he was having hit after hit after hit, so I was intimidated, and so I walked into that room nervous. Actually, when I got my first publishing deal, they said, “Who do you want to write with?” and Gary Burr was one of the names I mentioned. One of the top three. And they said, “That’s not gonna happen so, who else, because you’re brand new at this.” So, I didn’t have access to that caliber of writers until I got a record deal, and then they put me with Gary. And when I got in the room with him, it was really interesting because I had a title, and he said, “I like that.” And he just ran with it. He took off, and the song was done, and I felt like I could barely keep up. And I felt terrible, like I’m not showing what a writer I am. I gotta prove I’m a good writer, and I couldn’t prove anything ’cause he was so fast, and it was done, and I felt so bad, and I didn’t have his phone number, but I called Universal music. I called, and they said I could leave a message there. He has a voice mail here at Universal. So, I said, “Gary, this is Georgia Middleman. I feel really bad taking 50 percent.” That’s what they do in Nashville. However many people are in the room, that’s the shares, right? Two people it’s 50, three people it’s 33.3. That’s just the way it is, no matter who contributes what. That’s the Nashville way, and so I left him a message, and I said, “I don’t feel comfortable taking 50 percent. You wrote so much of that song, I mean, I just had the title, and I maybe wrote a little of it.” He called me back, and he said, “Uh-uh.” He said, “I couldn’t have written what I did without you in the room influencing what we were doing. No, it’s 50–50. And he said, “Next time you may take the lead, who knows.” And I’ll be damned if the next time we wrote, I was driving that boat, and he was like, “Hang on, let me just get my head around it.” The whole time he was the one trying to keep up. So, that’s how it is. You don’t know. Whoever gets the picture of what the song is supposed to be and if you trust each other, let the other person run with it. Again, it’s not about ego. It’s about the idea, and he had a very solid idea of where we could take it, and I loved where it was going, so I stayed back, just letting him run. I could contribute where I could. But the next time we wrote, I was the one running with it because the idea was very clear to me. For instance, somebody just told me recently that they broke up with their boyfriend. That he did something really appalling, and they had just started dating. And I said, “Congratulations.” And she goes, “Why?” And I said, for the clarity. It’s such a gift to know where you stand with somebody and to be so clear early on in a relationship before it turns into a big heavy thing. You know what this person can do, and it doesn’t jive with your set of what you believe in. So, good for you. The clarity is everything. And in writing, I was really clear the second time we wrote, and he was kind of foggy, and he let me run with it. Again, it was one of those things where the balance shifts back and forth when you have a relationship with a collaborator, and it’s just so interesting. And so, we didn’t write again for years, and then fifteen years later, he asked me out on a date. And when we went on the date, he said, “I don’t want to write songs. I want to see if this is something else.” And I said, “I’m game for that.” And we didn’t write. We just started dating. Two dates in, he said, “What the hell, let’s try.” It was really easy. At that point, I’d had some success, so I wasn’t a new baby writer, and it felt better, and I was more confident in the writing room, and I knew he liked me, so I felt like I’m not going to disappoint much, and it was really fun. And then we thought, it’s crazy that we’re not writing songs. And by the third date, we were writing songs and dating, and it was just … everything was wonderful, but it took getting there. Every writer has their journey with their confidence level, and you have to get to that place where you’re comfortable. You’re not a loser. If you don’t get something one day, it’s not that you suck — though that’s where I tend to go — I suck because I couldn’t figure it out, but the truth is it’s just not there that day. But you gotta work that muscle, and you gotta show up to it, and if I’m willing to show up every day and even if it doesn’t come, something happens. It may not even be that project I’m working on, but I get another idea because I showed up. And that’s kind of everything, in my opinion.

When I watched your video of you two on stage together, I could tell that your husband adores you, and it’s fun to watch you guys together because I can tell that you two gel well together. And I’m just watching the video. I can imagine that it would be more palatable in-person. And rightfully so, you should have been scared to work with a songwriter that’s had a bunch of hits, but you did it. That’s the bravery.

I wanted to plant something earlier when you said, “That’s theatre.” That’s a pretty powerful and loaded sentence you said because part of my training has been at the Bluebird Café, where you learn. You’re in a small room with the audience, and like you said, the audience is there. That’s a player in the work, too. It’s not just the people on stage. In the Bluebird, it’s so intimate that you learn what works with an audience and what doesn’t resonate with an audience. You learn quickly, and that has dictated how to make records for me because I know which songs are working and which ones aren’t. The people are responding, or they’re not responding. I’ve learned how to be funny because I bring the audience in. I’m working with funny people. Gary Burr … these writers that I work with are just hilarious. That’s part of the work too. That’s part of the magic when they’re making jokes, and the audience is laughing. We’re all in a room, like we’re all in a living room together, and that’s part of the work. So, in a performance at the Bluebird, or anywhere, or on a big stage, you are having a conversation with these people. You are not performing at them. It’s like what you talked about with Sondheim: It’s a living piece. Theatre is a living piece. The audience, the performers, and the material it’s all part of this equation. Either it works, or it doesn’t, and if you take one little part out, it changes the whole thing, so you try to implement all of it, and again, it’s staying present and open to whatever’s gonna happen, and that’s a faith thing too because I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I have to be in the moment with that audience and every audience is different. So, even the same content, the same material is going to produce different results depending on who’s in the room with you.

It really does. Even when you’re in rehearsal. I’m thinking of you, Kenny, and Gary. You have so many elements to put together, and you have to think of so many things. Then you take it to the stage, and something happens with an audience member or something else that changes the vibe, mostly in a good way, but you have to be ready for it, and the more you do it, the easier it gets.

You have to stay on your toes because you never know what’s coming your way.

When you’re writing a country song, is it in your head, we’ve got to tell a story, or is so much free flow that by the time you get done, you know you’ve told the story?

That’s a really interesting question. There are different kinds of country songs, so there’s a story song that you can write where you have to complete it. There is an arc to it where you bring them in at a certain point when the song opens. I always liken it to this: “When the song begins, the curtain opens,” and it’s always more interesting to me. Randy Newman is a big influence on me. In certain songs, when the curtain opens, you don’t know where you are, and then you go, oh, shit, I didn’t realize I was in that scene, because as details unfold through the song, you go, oh my god and you’ve been there all along you just had no idea what room you were in until the writer made it clear. And I’m not talking about being confusing as a writer; I’m talking about a brilliant writer like Randy Newman can do that. Like in “In Germany Before the War,” a man sitting on the bench, staring at the river. It’s World War II, he’s sitting in the park, and suddenly a little lost girl appears, and it all sounds so sweet and innocent but then suddenly you’re like, oh my god. The way Newman uses repetition and economy of words … just a few lines to tell a whole story. In the beginning, the character appears as an average Joe, and then by the end, you’re sucked into this whole other world, and by the time you realize what’s happening, you’re already in it, and it’s not what you thought it was. He calls that device the “unreliable narrator.” I love that. That’s my goal as a writer: to suck you in from the first line and let you discover things as the song happens. And sometimes songs aren’t stories as much as melodies that suck you in or a great alliteration like John Lennon’s “Ob La Di, Ob La Da.” I heard that somebody once asked him, what does that mean? And according to legend, he said, “I don’t know. It just felt good rolling off me tongue.” And that’s brilliant. So, it doesn’t have to be a story from beginning to end. It depends on what kind of song you’re trying to write. And there’s so many different ways of doing it and so many different kinds of songs. Whatever fits the job, I always say, like when I make a record. What slot do I not have yet, a fun song, the “hooky,” whatever? I just think it should be a full-rounded experience. Too much of one thing gets boring. That’s why I think men and women should share the stage because if it’s all men all the time, boring! If it’s all women all the time, boring! We need the texture. It goes back to the very first thing you and I said when we came on. I need textures against textures just to fill out the world. We all need pieces of other things. So, for a song to tell a story, I think you have to master whatever the song is supposed to be. That’s why making a record is an art. How do you connect the songs, and what’s the sequencing? How’s it going to unfold to the listener? There’s always an arc to me for everything. When we do our shows, if we start with an up-tempo, I don’t want to keep it up-tempo too long. I wanna bring it down to a calm place; let’s let them relax for a minute, tell a story. Hey, let’s get back to something fun. It’s all about texture for me and filling out the picture because that keeps it from being boring. My biggest problem in life is being bored. (Laughter.)

Because you write with so many people, because of your experience, and you’re seasoned … Do you tell Gary about a song idea and then say, I don’t think this one is for you; I thought of someone else to write it with me?

I wouldn’t say that. I just wouldn’t bring it up to him. (Laughter.) I’ll tell him that I have an idea for a certain song, and I’m going to bring it to “so and so,” and he will never know he was not considered for the job.

It must be interesting to be married to a songwriter because I’m sure you don’t feel obligated to write every song with him.

Some writers just have a certain “thing” people start knowing them by. These writers might be masters of a lot of things, but then there’s this one thing that people start identifying them with. For instance, someone might go, “Oh, I need a Tom Douglas kind of ballad for this record.” So, they call Tom because he’s a master of that. When you are known for a certain thing, that’s kind of a cool thing. So, when I have an idea and it’s a crazy, funny, ironic song, Ahhh, Don Henry. You know who does that great, and so many people do it well, but some people are known for certain aspects in writing, and that prompts other ideas in writers where they know they want to take it to that person because that’s what they know. That person’s good at that, and it’s safe to take it.

You wrote a song called “I’ll Have What She’s Having.” Then Reba McEntire covered it, and then you covered it.

No, no, I covered it first. My first version was the demo and we pitched it to Reba.

Oh, okay. So, she heard it and wanted to do it. Now, granted, both of your styles are country, they are both very different. When you pitch a song to someone, and they come back and say they want to do it, and you hear it for the first time, and it sounds completely different than what you did, are you open to that change?

I hope it’s going to be different. I hope it’s going to be your take on it because there’s a million ways to do something, and if you copy me identically, then yes, that’s a compliment. But then again, it’s kind of like I want every artist to paint with their own brushes and not feel like they have to use mine. So, I can be the piece you’re trying to paint (the song) but do it in your way, and I don’t mind. When I recorded that on my record, “I’ll Have What She’s Having,” it had brushes on the snare and a clarinet, and my publishers said, “I’m not sure we should pitch this version to Reba. This is a jazz recording, and she’s not a jazz singer.” But it was my co-writer’s idea to pitch the song to her, and he said, “Please tell them to pitch it anyway.” So, they pitched it anyway, and she loved it, and when she recorded it, she did it country swing with fiddles. She cut the clarinet. I even heard her in an interview. They said, “When you recorded “I’ll Have What She’s Having,” what made you record it the way you did?’ She goes, “Well, I heard this version on this record.” She didn’t know me, and she said, “This record that I heard had snares and brushes on the snares and clarinets. I just took all that right off and put western fiddle on.” And I thought that was brilliant because it was her take on my song. As my husband, Gary, says, “The song is the body.“ You can put any suit you want on it. Get a solid, healthy body as the song; you can dress it up country, R & B, rock, or pop. You can do whatever you want as long as it’s a solid body of work. You can do any version you want, and I always respect when I hear back that a song of mine was recorded by someone else of mine and it’s a little different. I may hate it, but I respect that they changed it and did it their way. I don’t want them changing my melody. I don’t want them changing my words without my permission, but when it comes to production, they can dress it up however they want. If Sheila E did a song of mine, Bonnie Raitt sang on one of my songs, they can do whatever the hell they want because they’re good at what they do, and I defer to them. And I’m just thrilled they wanted to sing one of my songs.

Oh, gosh, that’s awesome! What keeps you motivated to write? What keeps you waking up in the morning and saying, I’m gonna do this today.

Depression. If I don’t write, I get really down. I get really low, and I start getting into my own head. If I start writing, I get excited again. I’m not as prolific as Gary; Gary writes every day. I don’t write every day, but when I’m actively writing or working out an idea in my head, or I go for a walk, and I get inspired that keeps me from being … I don’t want to spend too much time in my head, or I get really sad. So, to me, writing is a way to stay above the fray. The world is too weird and too scary, too divided right now, and I’m too empathetic. I’m way too sensitive. So, for me to stay and maintain, I have to write, or I have to meditate, or I just have to do active things to stay centered. And writing is one of those things for me and it’s a job, for sure, but it is also a way to engage my mind into something creative, so I don’t have to get into the details of what’s wrong with me and what’s wrong with the world. I don’t want to deal with that all the time. It’s important to be informed, I think, but I’m just too sensitive to the world that I need to create and put things out there, and that’s what writing is for me.

That’s cool. You did a version of “A Song for You” and I absolutely love the Carpenters and a great version of it. What do you like about that song?

My mom sang it to me when I was little. It’s a memory.

So sweet. How much do you draw on your own life to write? Are there times where you don’t draw on anything that has to do with you?

Mostly, they don’t. Mostly, it’s something I’m feeling. You can’t write an emotion as the song, but you can tap into it. And, for me, clarity is everything. If I’m feeling really sad, or I see a picture on the wall or I’m reading a book, there are certain images or words that jump out to me and I might see a world start to build around that … Wait, what was your question?

How much do you draw on your own life to write?

To me, writing is a puzzle. Not a lot about my own life. When I talk about writing as a release for me, I’m talking about anything but me. (Laughter.) I don’t write about, “Oh, I’m feeling this way today,” I don’t do that. I should; that might help me but what I do is, if an image or the way an author puts certain words together strikes me … There was a show once called Cagney and Lacey. Do you remember that?

Yeah!

And Tyne Daly’s character wanted to adopt a little girl and then the birth mother came and picked her up because she wanted the kid back. And Tyne Daly’s character had to let the kid go, and she had to let her walk out the door with the birth mom. So, she opened the door, and you could tell, as the kid left, you could tell that everything in Tyne’s face was trying not to cry because she was going to miss that little girl so much. And that, to me, was the song. I’ve been trying to write that song forever. The feeling I saw in her face and it’s the idea of, I can’t let it show, I can’t let it show, but I’m dying here, I’m dying. There’s something about the holding back of emotion whenever I see an image like that in a movie there might not be words attached but that starts a song in me and I go, okay, and then I find some kind of slice of life that can illustrate whatever that emotion was, and I know I’ve written about it several times in different ways in my catalog. I just know that when I latch onto a picture or if a title sounds interesting to me, the most fun in writing is, How am I going to frame that to make it cut through the rest because the obvious way to write it would be “this,” and nobody would care to record it because everybody would write it that way. “Now That You’ve Met Molly”: The inspiration to that was there was a girl who I knew who stole every boyfriend I ever had. And I was telling my co-writers, Sam and Annie Tate, and I went, “Oh Man, I thought I was getting along with this guy, and then he meets her, and it’s like, well, I see you met Molly. Good luck to me. I’m outta here. I’m out of the picture. And then Annie said, “Wait a minute, let’s make this more interesting.” And I go, “How?” And she said, “Let’s make Molly her daughter.” And I go, “What the hell are you talking about? She shouldn’t be jealous of her daughter?” She goes, “No, the singer is a single mother, and the minute he meets the daughter, you’re out of the picture.” So, that’s how we wrote it. It had nothing to do with a little girl when we sat down to write the song. It had to do with … I was jealous of this girl I knew in college. And it’s like, that’s what started that song. So, that’s why you gotta follow the crumbs. You don’t know where it’s going, but it’s worth following the emotion because maybe you’re going to land on something. And I’m all about what makes a story more interesting ’cause I’m a business writer, I’m a commercial writer. I don’t just write to get my feelings out. That’s not gonna get me on the radio. What’s gonna get me on the radio is writing a good idea well and different than anybody else. That might work. That, to me, has worked so far. It’s like, when I’ve had cuts, there was something just a little different about my song. But unfortunately, it’s not always about the quality of the work too. Sometimes you get cuts because you’re writing with the most popular writer in town, and they’re cutting everything that person’s writing and you were lucky enough to be with them that day. It’s all kinds of stuff. So, while I don’t literally write about my life, there’s a part of me in everything I do, whether it’s just a feeling or a thought. Then I imagine a story that can tap into that emotion, and that’s what I write.

It is so interesting that you talk about facial expressions and Tyne Daly’s character holding back emotions. And again, I go back to this because it’s so you. That is a really theatrical take on something.

Yes!!

You’re noticing a look on her face, and you got a three-minute song out of it.

It’s not about me when I write. It’s about the world. If I am touched by Tyne Daly’s face. The fact that she had to let go of something that was so important to her, but she couldn’t let anyone know how it was killing her. That was heartbreaking to watch. That means that you probably have been there. You’ve probably had to hold back and when I can find something that I think I can relate so strongly to because that broke my heart when I saw that, I think chances are an audience will too. If I locate the right subject for my song, I’m gonna try to tell that story in my own words. And, if it affected me that way, it just might affect you too. That’s what I look for as a songwriter. What’s a great story to me just might be to someone else. I mean, if I sat here and told you I get depressed, nobody cares, but if I tell you about a moment in time where something changed. It shifted. You might go, what was that? It’s all about finding something that’s going to engage the imagination of other people. And I don’t have to go far to do that because I trust my gut, and I trust my soul and my craft. I’ve been working really hard as a writer, learning how to craft songs. Once you get the craft down then, you let the inspiration flow through you. When you were talking about, ”I’m sure you have to learn the harmonies and all that, but when you’re on stage, it’s a different thing” — when you said that, you just tapped into something. Our job is to get all the harmonies down, learn the words, learn the melodies, learn how to play the guitar, and then let the art start. Once you do your work … if you’re spending your time on stage trying to figure out the chords, you’re not being the artist you can be. You’re not translating to an audience. You’re not having an effect on them. Get the work down, and then be open to the moment and that’s where the art starts.

I agree.

I have been building the craft. Thirty-something years I’ve been doing this. That’s good. And you were gonna say something.

You are tapping into something where you are not thinking about what’s going on with you, but you are thinking about what a mass audience will relate to.

Well, I start with how that made me feel and then I trust that other people … so I do put a little … it has to come from a genuine place, but it doesn’t have to have happened to me at all. I just need to know that it’s relevant to my world around me. To the people around me. The people that come to my shows, I have one thought when I walk into a room. Please let me serve this audience. Let me speak to somebody. Let whatever I do tonight have some impact on one person there, please. And I’m praying to a higher power. Let me be of service here. And sometimes I’m not there. Sometimes I’m way in my own head; I just had a fight with so and so, and that’s all I can think about, and so I did not give you my best because I am in my own world. But when I’m giving you my best, I’m trying to be of service. As a performer, as a songwriter. And it’s not something I think about. It’s who I am. It’s important to me to serve the people I’m talking to … whether it’s a friend … whether you and I are having coffee. If I just sat here and blah blah blah, I’m not serving you. I want to be present for you, and as a performer, I am not performing at you. I’m here for you. I’m gonna sing you this story. “Do you understand what I’m saying? Have you ever been there?” And then it’s a flow. It’s gotta be, or otherwise, it doesn’t work for me. Otherwise, I should find a different career. That’s what it means to me.

Right! And all of those things are so important to the craft. Human emotions are such a big part of writing a hit song. If you don’t have that, you’re not going to have much. Even fun little bubbly songs, you’re creating an emotion in someone.

I don’t wanna mislead and sound like I am writing for everybody when I sit down and write a song. I’m not. I’m trying to write a great idea then I hope that great idea translates to everybody. That’s what determines whether it’s going to be on the radio or not is if it has universal appeal. A lot of the songs I write may not have that, but I had to write it because to me, it was important, and I felt that there was value in the story, but they didn’t necessarily … there’s a lot of luck in this business too and some of my best songs will never see the light of day. So, that’s just the way it is. Some things capture the imagination of the public, and that’s when you got something. You don’t know. Ya know, my husband wrote a song after his dad died, and his dad never heard it, and it was a really important song to Gary called “That’s My Job.” And then Conway Twitty records it, and Gary’s like, Okay, that was just a personal song. It wasn’t a crafted song. I was just emoting to my dad. And now, he’s in the Nashville Songwriter’s Hall of Fame, and that song etched in stone on the sidewalk etched in stone … “That’s My Job,” next to Gary Burr’s name. He couldn’t know, and none of us can predict what’s gonna capture people, what’s gonna make them love a song or hate a song. Not a clue. So, I don’t sit down and go, “Are people going to love this?” I have no idea. All I know is I love it. I love this idea, and I can relate to it because I’ve been there. Let me write in a fresh way that again, will cut through ’cause everybody in town writes songs. So, what makes your song stand out over other songs is gonna be that you wrote it a little differently.

Yeah, there’s definitely stiff competition out there. When I saw your catalog, you seem to have a very limited catalog as far as what you put on your website. But I know there’s more in your catalog than that. However, the fact that that many songs you wrote have been recorded by artists. To me that is amazing. If you get one song recorded by an artist, you’re like ahhhhhhh.

It is amazing! You’re right.

I mean, there are hundreds of thousands of songwriters coming to town every day that want to write songs.

And it’s not just about the quality of your song whether you get through. It’s not just about that. It would be amazing if it was. If the world were fair, it would be, but that’s not how it works. You have to keep your eye on the ball and do the work and then, it’s funny how good things happen. Early on, I wanted a record deal so I could get my songs out there, and I had always heard about the William Morris Agency, the booking agent. It was a dream of mine to sign with them … I just knew that name for so many years. And so, after years of struggling, I had finally gotten the elusive publishing deal and the elusive major record deal, and then one night, I’m singing at this little coffee shop honing my skills, ya know. My record was about to come out, and this guy walks up to me and says, “Hi, I’m so and so with William Morris,” and I went, “Ahh, hi, this is crazy.” And he said, “We’re interested in talking to you about representing you.” And I went, “You have no idea. I’ve always wanted to meet someone from William Morris. This is so exciting.” And then what he said blew my mind. He said, “Georgia, we’ve been watching you for years.” And that, to me, was the story. That’s what I took away from that. We are always being watched. It’s just that all those years of honing my skills, I wasn’t in a position to offer William Morris anything in return. I didn’t have a record deal. I didn’t have anything they could promote. So, when I finally got into a position where it suddenly made sense for them to align with me … that’s when the opportunity came. At this point, I had a major label behind me. But in the struggling years, they were still watching. So, my advice to all those people struggling is you’re not in a void. You may feel like it, but if you’re doing good work and you’re showing up and you’re putting it out there, and you’re doing shows; people are watching. The people that you want to attract may very well be out there watching, but you just may not be ready yet. They can’t sign you yet because you may not be at the level where they can help you yet. But it doesn’t mean they’re not watching. I mean, it’s amazing the stories about how things just seem to fall out of the sky. They didn’t. These things were being grown, but I didn’t know it because I was busy doing the work. I wasn’t this amazing talent that suddenly started getting all these cuts. It was this and that and saying no to that and going with this company because that company felt a little strange to me. And then, suddenly this person … and then I get a cut. It’s like you can’t determine the path. Nobody can, but you have to be open and do the work. And, being kind, that’s a huge part of this business is being a good person and not backstabbing people, not talking about people behind their backs. Things get around and being a nice person when they are ready to sign you, they wanna know … They talk to everybody before they sign you. They go, “Have you ever had dealings with so and so?” “Yeah, she was great! I just didn’t have a place for her at my company.” “Okay, I’m gonna take her on.” “Great! I recommend her.” I mean, we are being watched. People are noticing when the work is good. They are noticing, but until we are at a level where we can help them, they can’t help us yet. It’s not a personal thing. It’s just business.

That’s a great piece of advice though. Just keep going and going and realize there are people out there watching. When you finally got a publishing deal and they asked you who you wanted to write with, and they said no to you about writing with Gary Burr. It makes sense that they would want to wait. You’re a new writer.

The reason they said no was because I didn’t have anything to offer him. Gary Burr, that caliber of a writer, has his own camps; he’s making a fortune for his company. So, if they put a baby writer that doesn’t have a record deal with him … Why? He’s already mentoring his own young artists. He’s choosing what baby writers he wants to spend his time investing in. He doesn’t owe me or anybody else anything. Just because it’s a dream of mine to write with someone like that doesn’t make it his dream. He’s busy. He’s got a family to support. It makes perfect business sense to say no to someone like me at that point in my career, but when I got a record deal, they went “okay, time to put you with Garry Burr,” because if I record his song, he can make money from my record. It’s about business, and it’s about being smart. And that was smart to say no to me. Again, just because we have dreams doesn’t mean we deserve them, or the people have to sit in the room with me because it’s my dream. Screw that. I have to earn my place. I have to earn it by doing good work and getting to the next level where I get to the level where that person notices me. They’re not going to notice me down here, but if I start writing with better people and better people and suddenly, I’m performing out and then someone says, “Have you written with her?” It’s like Radney Foster, the person I wrote “I’m In” with. I wanted to write with him, but I didn’t know him, so I get signed to Polygram Music, and I’m in the tape room one day, and Radney Foster walks in, and I’m like oooh, there he is. And, I have to be cool. I can’t be a germ, right? [“Germ” is pronounced with a hard G. It is someone who is trying to flatter, flirt, or talk up someone famous.] So I have to be cool, and he goes “You’re Georgia Middleman? And I go, “Yes, nice to meet you.” And that’s all I said. He said, “Steve from Arista Records told me I should write with you.” And I went, “He did?” And he went, “Yeah, he heard some of your songs the other day and said you’re really good, and he mentioned you to me. Would you be interested in writing?” And I said, “Sure.” “I’m In” was the first thing we wrote. We’ve written a lot since then, but that song was our first. And that cowrite happened because I was at his company in the tape room where I was face-to-face with him. And I earned that place. I got … I was a baby writer, but I earned a publishing deal, and I earned the right to stand in that tape room that day ’cause I worked there.

Wow! That’s so great! He’s got some great stuff. It’s good for young songwriters to know if they continue to write, somebody’s gonna notice.

All you can do is do good work, show the work, and people start noticing, and then maybe so and so has a sister or brother that works at this company. You don’t know where it’s gonna come from.

Yes. Now, you were talking about networking. Networking has changed a lot over the years. How has it changed for you? I was able to look at your website and listen to your music and look at other stuff. Years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to see so much of your work. But now, today, I can put your name in the computer and there’s a zillion things that pop up.

Kids have their finger on what’s happening more than me. The kids know what to do, and it’s like they are social media conscious, and I get that can be a bad thing if it’s too much about that and not enough about the content, the quality of the content you’re putting out. But on the other hand, I feel I can do all this good work, but no one will ever hear about it. It’s in a void because I’m not great at social media, but the young people are. There’s this really great collaborative thing; the kids can learn from older writers. That’s how I learned the business from the older writers. They taught me craft. So, I feel like that’s my job now to teach the young writers about craft, and they can teach me about marketing. (Laughter.)

Yeah, no kidding, right? So, marketing has changed. Yeah, that is so true. So, have you mentored any young writers?

Oh, yeah. A lot of them. We would, before Covid, when we were out in the world, we would go to festivals, Gary and me. We would talk about songwriting. We would do panels, and we would notice there would be one or two that we would go, ooh, that kid’s good. And at those festivals, we approach them and say if you ever come to Nashville, look us up. And we’ve been writing with those kids. Because it’s so rare to find somebody amazing. Everybody’s trying but to find somebody to be at a level where they’re ready to get to the next place. That’s really interesting to me, so when I have found, either through social media or these songwriting events, when I see somebody that’s special, I really want to tap into that. I wanna write with that person. That would make an older writer like me want to write with a younger writer if that younger writer is out there performing and they’re showing what they do, and they’re open to criticism. If they’re asking for it, and at these songwriter festivals, they’re asking for critiques. That’s what we are there for, but some don’t really want to be critiqued; they just want to get discovered, and I’m not interested in those people unless they’re ready. But the ones that are open, like there was one guy who came to every seminar I did, and this guy was really good. I noticed him early on. He was really talented but what I noticed besides his talent is that he was open to learning about how to be a better writer, and he came to every one of my workshops and every one of Gary’s, and that takes time out of your schedule to come to somebody’s panel, and I just thought, who is this guy? He was from Ireland, so I said, “If you’re ever in Nashville,” and he came! We started writing with him because he was such an open seeker. He wanted to be better, and I’m always attracted to people who want to be better. So, he wasn’t in a place to get a record deal yet necessarily, but he was open, and that meant I wanted in on that ’cause I want to mentor people that want to get better, not that just want help to get discovered. No! Help me be a better all-around writer/performer. Those people I’m interested in. Those people I want to work with, so, yes, I have mentored different people who I found like that.

That is so cool. And what do you think you got out of that?

What I got out of it was, we wrote a song that maybe could get recorded by a big artist, and I’m helping that person get to the next level. That’s what I got out of it. I wanted to be some kind of steppingstone for that person because I felt like they were coming from the right place. They weren’t coming from a place where help me, help me get a cut. They were coming from a place where they wanted help to get better, and because of that, I wanted to help him get a cut. I wanted to write the best song with him so I could … I want to be the one to say hey, hey, guess what? Faith Hill just recorded our song. I wanna be the person that gives him that because he had the right idea and he’s talented. Ya know you have to have the talent to start with, but he also has the right heart for this.

And people have helped you, I imagine?

Sam and Annie Tate taught me so much about writing. The writers who had publishing deals who invested their time in me … the way I describe what I want for that young person? That’s what a lot of these writers did for me. They wrote songs with me, and they were mentoring me, and I was watching them as they worked … Sam and Annie Tate, Dave Berg, Angelo, Billy Falcon. Just these amazing writers that I watched how they worked, and I tried to take in little things they did that they’re really good at, and I go ooh maybe I can incorporate that and try to think like that. And it’s just fascinating. It’s just so funny. Loretta Lynn, when she wrote the song “The Pill” I’m thinking … or Dolly Parton. When they write songs that are … Loretta Lynn, ya know, she was really outspoken and she just wrote about it because it was a real woman issue, the pill right? Yes!! That inspires me. Whenever I see women go out there and tell stories that are scary or not politically correct, I go Yessss. That appeals to me. That inspires me and that mentors me. So, there’s so many people. Joni Mitchell, Carole King. Those were women … I was just so absorbed in their music growing up. I was so lost in it, and I loved it. I loved their melodies, and I loved what they talked about. So, those were inspirations to me, and they were mentors without knowing it. As they were to millions of people.

I think Carole King is amazing. I loved her stuff as a kid. I love it now. So, what made this little girl from Texas decide to go to NYU in New York City, get a degree in acting, and then move to Nashville? What is it about Nashville that made you finally say I’m home?

Okay. When I was in high school, I went to music theory class and I dropped out immediately because it was math and I wasn’t good at math, and I didn’t want to turn music into a head trip because I struggled with math. I loved doing music. I loved writing songs. I loved singing. Nobody knew that, but in high school, it was math to me so, I signed up for acting class, but at NYU, my teachers gave me B’s. To me, that translated to; you’re not excellent. At least the grades told me I wasn’t excellent, and I’ll never forget: There was another girl in my class when I got a B+ and she said to me, “I feel like they’re giving me a B+ for my spirit.” And that’s exactly how I felt. You’re getting graded on your creativity, so I never took my acting seriously ’cause I never got graded well on it. I was average, and I don’t want to ever be average. Boring! I wanted to be excellent, right? I always knew I was good at singing, and I knew I could be a good writer, so I visited a friend of mine in Nashville. I was going to NYU, and I visited him, and he said, “Check this out.” And he invited me to writers nights, and I went ahhhhh. And I had been writing my own songs, and I went, oh my god! Nashville felt like home. Writing is what I do, and I do it really well. Watch, watch. And even when I auditioned for the Bluebird, I did a verse and a chorus. Have you ever done the Bluebird?

I played there at an open mic night. Just one time and it scared the crap out of me because it was so intimate. I was this theatre kid who was used to 300, 600, even a thousand people in the audience, and here I was in this intimate setting going holy crap.

It’s scary! I did the auditions where the line wraps around the block. And then, nine months later, if they like your verse and chorus, they book you nine months later. And I did my verse and chorus, and I go, I’m good, I’m good, they’ll accept me. Then I get a letter two weeks later that says, “You’re not ready for the Bluebird but keep working on your craft.” And I was devastated ’cause I thought I was ready. My first thought was, I’m gonna have to move. I moved here because I thought I belonged here in Nashville, and the Bluebird is telling me I don’t belong. And I was just devastated, and then I remember I spent about a week heartbroken. I worked at a dialysis clinic as an accounts payable clerk and remember sitting in my office when I finally came to my senses. I went fuck this, fuck that. I’m gonna stay. I’m gonna go play other clubs. I’m gonna work my way into the … eventually, I’ll work the Bluebird or not if they won’t have me. I was meant for this. I’m doing this. They’re wrong. That’s what I said. It took me a week to get there. Then I get this call, and somebody says, “Is this Georgia Middleman?” “Yes.” “This is so and so from the Bluebird. What letter did we send you?” “You sent me a letter that said I wasn’t ready.” They said, “I’m so sorry. We had you in the wrong stack. We meant to book you. Can you play on such and such a date?” And that was my lesson. Yeah. That was my big lesson. I felt at home here, but you have to keep your own spiritual compass in check and can’t let the world tell you if you fit in or not because it may be a filing clerk error.

Wow! That is crazy! How did they catch that? Do you even know?

No. They had me in the wrong stack, and they booked me. The Bluebird has been my place ever since, but it started out … that was our beginning. That was our introduction to each other. A mistake. And it was just devastating, but that’s the point. You can’t internalize the rejection here because you don’t know what you’re really dealing with. Someone could be having a bad day. Or have put your application in the wrong file! But let’s go there for a minute; if it hadn’t been a mistake and they didn’t think I was ready, it’s still just their opinion. They may have been right, or they may have been wrong. We have to be so careful with our hearts being creators here in town. We have to just stay on track. Like I said, it took me a week to come back to my senses and go, no, no, no, no, no, you’re good, keep going. Because I wanted to quit. I wanted to quit the moment I got that letter. That’s the challenge for anybody who’s creative, and I believe everyone is creative. I do. I believe that just doing it for a hobby is just as important as choosing it for a career because you have to have that outlet. You have to express. You have to.

I agree. I think that people that are not creative or say they’re not creative don’t understand why I do it. But you get it. You know that if you don’t do something to let this creativity out in the world, even if it’s just on a piece of paper, it makes you crazy. You are putting it out there, and I say you’re lucky enough to do it professionally, but I don’t think it’s luck. I think that talking to you it’s a lot of hard work, right? And that’s a lot of heartbreak. I mean, especially your story about the Bluebird. They are very well known for launching many writers’ careers. And for that to happen to you at such a young age, that’s a lot of heartache right there. It only took you a week. You did well. But to say to yourself, and I think this is important for young writers, young creatives to realize that even if somebody tells you you can’t, you should anyway because that hard work is going to lead to something good, always. And that’s what happened to you. That is a mind-blowing story to me. It would be so interesting to find out why they put you in the wrong pile.

The weird thing is, like Kenny Loggins. I grew up on his music. I loved his music, and now I’m singing next to him on stage. That’s weird. How did that happen? That’s not just luck. You’re right. That’s circumstance after circumstance, just working my way into circles of people. I mean, I’ve been on the road with Carole King. I sang back-up with Carole King. It’s like, how did that happen? I don’t know, except that I kept showing up every step of the way. And Gary has an amazing story. There are no accidents, in my opinion. And Gary broke his leg in a soccer accident when he was seventeen years old. He had a cast from here (She points to her chest.) all the way to his toes. He was in bed for like six months. He said all he had was a turntable in his bedroom. He was a senior in high school in Connecticut. He had a turntable and three records: Pure Prairie League, Tapestry, and Revolver, the Beatles record. So, he had the Beatles, Carole King, and Pure Prairie League, and he learned how to play guitar ’cause he couldn’t get out of bed. He learned all the songs on those records while he lay in bed for six months. Then, when he grew up, he became the lead singer for Pure Prairie League. He collaborated with Carole King and went on the road with her as her sideman for years. And he wrote with Ringo Starr and has been on his last ten records. That is not a coincidence. That is him taking an accident — and I saw on Facebook somewhere: “A failure is not failure. It’s a very important part of success.” So, if you break your foot or quit what you’re doing to take care of your mom … You do important life things. That is no accident. Life is supposed to be that way, and what happens as a result of that is gonna be beyond anything we could have imagined by doing the right thing. If people go, “No, no, no, I’m gonna go, not gonna deal with that, I’m trying to do this. This never works out,” it doesn’t because you’ve got blinders on. It’s just not taking in life. It’s the artists who take in life and fall back … I’m saying this to myself as I talk because I’m not great at it. But knowing it’s okay for me to fail, knowing it’s okay for me to take a break and get away from writing for a while or whatever I need for my soul is gonna feed my work later. It’s not just about the work’ it’s about the quality of my life. So, writing is a part of my life, but it isn’t my life. But to make better work, I gotta make a better life. It’s important.

This is a great place to end because it really is about how opportunity meets your readiness. Many opportunities come to you, and you’re not ready yet, so you don’t know it’s an opportunity yet.

That’s right!

But you were actually ready, and somebody took the time to go wait a minute. Did you put her in the wrong pile?

That might not have happened. And you’re right somebody might not have found it, and it would have been another three years.

Right! And three years later, they would have said, where were you? And you would say I was right here.

Right! It’s like falling in love. You gotta be ready. You gotta see what’s right in front of you. Otherwise, you’re gonna miss it.

Thank you so much! I loved learning about you and your career. The best of luck to you. I know you are going to continue to do what you do so well. It’s just a pleasure to meet you.

Right back at ya!

Sandy Flavin is an actor and playwright. She is currently enrolled in MTSU’s MALA program, where she is writing a musical titled Growing Up Me as her capstone project.