This jazz-pop tune has been languishing on my hard drive for months. A few things kept me from finishing it:
The first was that the recording simply wasn’t gelling. I imagined the song to be an understated, funky tune driven by electric piano. As you know, my keyboard abilities are woeful. I just couldn’t get my fingers around the complicated chords and extensions in a way that pushed the recording forward.
The second reason it remained dormant for four months was my doubts about how good it was as a composition. I liked the angular melody above simple chords and the sudden shifts into new tonal areas every 8 or 16 measures. But did it have a spark?–that je ne sais quoi that I want for each of my songs?
Finally, I felt insecure about releasing a song about my insecurities. We all want to curate an image of ourselves that makes us look good. Even a song about being bad can put the protagonist in a positive light: “I’ve changed for the better,” “I was wronged but heroically rose above it,” “I’m a tragic genius or a mysterious bad boy.”
One of my commitments here at my musical diary is to forego the posing and the polish, simply releasing music in its raw form. The Musical Diary of Greg Scheer: what music looks like when it wakes up in the morning!
How did I overcome my deficiencies, doubts, and insecurities to finish the song? First, I moved away from my mediocre piano playing to my less mediocre guitar playing. Eventually, I’ll record this with a real pianist, but for now, the repeated electric guitar quarter notes get the job done. I also put the bass way up in the mix; play to your strengths and all that. I had left room for a solo in the middle of the song, but once again decided I wasn’t up to the task. Instead, I found a graduation speech from Jon Batiste that addressed the very kind of musical outsiderness that the lyrics talk about. It was encouraging to hear such a fine musician discuss the resilience it takes to be your own person and how rejection can strengthen your vision. Thank you, Jon! I ended the song with a rising chorus of harmonies–simple, but cool.
So there you have it: a song that has overcome adversity to make its way into the world. I don’t know if it will be a colossal failure or a runaway hit, but it’s part of the exploration that is invaluable to my growth as a composer.
How many times am I going to try
before I just give in?
How long can I find
the strength to begin again?
How many doors have I knocked on
and still not been let in?
How long will I stand
on the outside looking in?
Where can I find the keys to this gate?
What do I have to do?
So far I haven’t had any luck.
I haven’t got a clue.
So I knock and I call
and I pound and I shout
and I do it again and again.
And I scratch and I dig
and I walk all around
and I’m looking for any way in.
Oh, I knock and I call
and I pound and I shout
and I do it again and again.
But it’s always the same
and I always end up
on the outside looking in.