The Studio · Kit
Songcraft Deck
A printable deck of cards. Cut them out and use them at the kitchen table to start a song with one card from each suit. The physical companion to The Studio.
The Studio · Kit
A printable deck of cards. Cut them out and use them at the kitchen table to start a song with one card from each suit. The physical companion to The Studio.
PRINTABLE · AT-HOME · PARENT-FRIENDLY
24 cards, 4 suits. Pick one from each suit to set the song's bones — topic, hook, mood, form — without typing anything. The cadet writes from there.
Best for ages 8–13. Younger cadets play with a grown-up reading. Older cadets can run it themselves.
Specifics beat clichés. Pick a topic that points at one real thing — not a vague feeling.
Family, friend, someone gone. Not love-in-general — this specific person.
A room. A street. A car. A place where something happened.
One specific moment. Not a whole season — one moment.
The kind that has no word for it yet. Songs are good at naming these.
Something life taught you. Make it specific to you, not general advice.
Writing back to a younger you. What would you say if you could?
Hooks come in shapes. Pick a shape and work toward a line that fits it. The shape gives you a target.
"Where did you go?" "Are you ever coming back?" The hook asks something the listener can't answer.
Someone's name. A street. A city. A specific noun that becomes the hook.
A short phrase you sing three or four times in a row. Each repetition adds weight.
Something you're saying you'll do or won't do. Bold, simple, specific.
The line that's also the song's name. The thing on the t-shirt.
Two opposites in one line. "I love you / I let you go." Tension makes it stick.
The mood is the room the song lives in. Pick the room before you start describing what's in it.
Soft, tender, lullaby energy. For people, places, and quiet truths.
Anthem energy. For declarations, lessons, becoming-someone moments.
Honest about pain, without giving up on the next sunrise. Hard to write — powerful when it lands.
Smart-funny, not silly-funny. Truth wearing a smile. Hardest mood to nail.
Forward-moving, slightly anxious, the energy of wanting something. Driving, busy.
Acceptance energy. Things are okay. The song that sounds like a long exhale.
Form is the floorplan. Pick the structure before you write — cadets who don't pick wander.
The most common pop form. Two verses, a chorus that returns. Solid bones.
Adds a bridge before the final chorus — a different angle, a twist. Pop's grown-up version.
Three or four verses telling a story chronologically. Light or no chorus. The form of folk songs.
The whole song is one continuous "I'm talking to you." No traditional chorus — just one long aimed truth.
Big chorus, small verses, focus on the hook. For songs meant to be sung along to.
One short melody, repeated with different words each pass. Quiet songs work in this form.