When a Song Arrives — Songwriting Inspiration from the Story of Orbita

Apr 2
4 min read

Sometimes a melody doesn’t feel like it comes from us… it feels like it comes through us.

Sometimes songs don’t feel like they are written.

They feel like they arrive.

This reflection is about one of those moments — the day I wrote a song called Orbita.

I was in my mid-to-late twenties and had already spent nearly six hours writing music that day. By that point my fingers were tired from strumming guitar and my voice was starting to feel the strain of singing and experimenting with ideas.

Songwriting can be surprisingly physical work.

But it can also feel strangely similar to meditation.

You sit there repeating ideas again and again, listening carefully, adjusting small details and waiting for something to feel right.

Except instead of chanting Om, the mantra often sounds something like this:

“Nope… that’s not it.”

“Nope… still not it.”

“Nope… that’s no good either.”

Not exactly the most uplifting mantra.

But making mistakes is part of learning. Sometimes the process feels peaceful. Other times it feels frustrating, especially when you want to write something great.

And if we’re honest, sometimes that desire comes from wanting to prove something to other people.

Which is a slightly silly pursuit…

but also a practical one.

Because the better the song, the more chance there is that someone might want to listen to it.

Although music has a funny way of surprising us. Sometimes you write something wonderful and nobody notices, and other times something you thought was fairly ordinary suddenly connects with people.

Creating music is a mysterious journey.

And like all journeys, the outcome we expect is not always the one we receive. But the lesson we need usually appears somewhere along the way.

When Songwriting Inspiration Appears

On that day I had about half an hour left of the time I had set aside for writing.

So I decided to make one final attempt.

And then something unexpected happened.

A melody appeared.

Not slowly.

Suddenly.

It felt almost like a horse running straight through me.

The melody arrived in four complete parts:

a verse

a pre-chorus

a chorus

and a post-chorus

Each part was fully formed, and yet somehow all of them fit together perfectly.

The strange thing was that while the writing itself felt effortless, holding onto the melody was difficult. It felt a little like chasing something that was moving faster than my ability to remember it.

Almost like learning a new piece of music… even though it was coming from within me.

Or perhaps more accurately, it was coming through me.

Moments like this are a reminder that songwriting inspiration doesn’t always come from forcing ideas. Sometimes it appears when the mind becomes quiet enough to receive something unexpected.

Once I understood the first section, the second appeared almost immediately. Then the third. Then finally the chorus.

As quickly as I could, I turned on my old four-track recorder and captured a rough acoustic version — just voice and guitar — before the melody disappeared.

That was the birth of Orbita.

Living With a Song

That song has stayed with me for many years now.

In some ways it feels a bit like a child.

Over time I’ve dressed it up in many different outfits — different arrangements, different recordings — trying to give it the best opportunity to be heard.

Although sometimes I haven’t been the best parent.

Sometimes you spend so much energy creating a song in the studio that when it comes time to share it with the world, there isn’t much energy left.

But recently I felt it was time to revisit the story and share it again.