Author: Greg Scheer

When you think of the Euro Bistro, you may think of a broad selection of fine wines, old-world French cuisine, and a cozy atmosphere. But some people–at least two of them–think of Euro Bistro as the venue that premieres a new Greg Scheer jazz song every Thursday night.

“A Day Away” is a breezy tune with a subtle funk lilt. It began its life as two chords: F6 to Eb9. I like the way the notes of these two chords ease into each other. (As did Benny Golson when he wrote “Killer Joe.”) I also like the way the Eb9 acts like a substitute dominant chord (C7) in the key of F.

That opening riff suggested some other material, and from there I let the song tell me where it wanted to go. It ended up being a satisfying AABA form that lends itself well to multiple repeats as each musician takes a turn soloing over the changes.

A few weeks ago, I took a lesson in jazz composition. (I won’t name names because I don’t want my writing to sully his good reputation.)

One of the teacher’s observations was that my melodies are generally tethered to chord tones. Explanation: In traditional harmony, chords are constructed of root, third, and fifth. In jazz, most chords include a seventh, as well. But on top of those four notes are often a series of extensions and alterations, creating chords that look like math formulas: F7b9+11, for example.

I accepted my teacher’s challenge, writing a melody that only rarely rests on chord tones. Instead, it floats above the chords like…well, like oil and water. Interestingly, this freer approach to dissonance doesn’t sound as biting as one might think. If I hadn’t explained what I was doing, it’s unlikely you would have noticed a difference between this and previous jazz tunes I’ve written.

And that, my friends, is why I’m always trying new things. There is always something more to learn and often serendipitous accidents that come with experimentation.

The previous Thursday I had learned that the owner of the restaurant where we play was grieving the one-year anniversary of his wife’s death. That was on my mind when I sat down to write this week’s jazz tune. The main melodic motif is full of aching appoggiaturas, while the bridge feels a bit more resolved with a series of falling fifths.

One of our regular tunes is George Gershwin’s “Summertime.” Susan, our violinist slays that. As a favor to her, I wrote this one in A minor. Yes, she can play in any key, but she loves A minor.

The jazz tune of the week is “No More Need to Be Blue.” It is all sunshine and light. In fact, I wrote some lyrics for this one, and they’re all about the hope of a new morning after a long, dark night. I’m not sure how many jazz tunes with lyrics I’ll write, but I have noticed a distinct lack of lyrical depth in vocal jazz. I would love to hear more introspection and insight in a music genre that has so much emotion.

Today, today the light streams in,
your life begins again.
It somehow feels like the start of something new.

And now, now that the night is finally done,
you turn to face the morning sun:
nothing to hide or to lose.

All those dark days that you’re leaving behind
will fade away like morning dew.
All the sadness will disappear in dawning light.

There’s no more need to be blue.
There’s no more need to be blue.

Faithful followers of this blog–both of you–will know that I’ve been writing a new jazz tune every week for my Thursday night gig at Euro Bistro. It has been great fun, and though I have no immediate need for a stack of jazz songs, it has reaffirmed love affair with notes. There are just 12 notes, but they combine in so many interesting ways that I find it endlessly fascinating. After 40 years of composing, I’m still discovering new things!

The downside of this weekly output is that I run out of titles. I can only write so many songs named for my fellow musicians (“Waltz for Ed,” “Susan’s Blues”) without it becoming…creepy. When I’m at a loss for new tune names, I often name them for something that describes some feature of the music or reminds me of what I was doing at the time of writing. In this case, I named the song “CP504” for the IRS tax form that lets one know they’re planning to seize one’s property for unpaid taxes. (Jen and I got one; it’s a clerical error on their end.)

I should point out that these recordings are made by sticking my iPhone on my music stand and pressing record. You can hear how things begin tentatively and slowly pick up steam. If you listen closely, you can also hear Susan (the violinist) turn to me and suggest that the restaurant should make this song their hold music. Ironically, as I write this blogpost, I’m on hold with the IRS. I heartily agree that my song would be a lot better than what the IRS has provided me for hold music.*

_{*For those of you who are interested, the current IRS hold music is in the key of E, features a melody with lots of seconds, harmonies with open fifths, and rocks back and forth between E and A with an exciting shift to C#m at one point.}

This week’s jazz tune is called “Jenopédie.” What does that mean, you wonder? Well, certainly you’ve heard Erik Satie’s iconic “Gymnopédie #1.” As I worked on my tune I realized that it shared the same opening chords as that piece. So, with the tip of my bowler hat to Satie, I combined his composition’s title and my wife’s name (Jen) to create “Jenopédie.”

The tune doesn’t fit the normal categories one encounters with jazz standards–swing, bossa, waltz, etc–but instead falls in the cracks somewhere between ballad and I’m not sure what. Indeed, that’s one of things I like about it. It feels fresh but also familiar.

It seems to have struck a chord. You can hear the hostess walk up to us in the middle of the song and ask what it is and tell us how much she likes it!

I wrote a “Waltz for Ed” so it was only fair that I write a new tune for the other member of our jazz trio, Susan. It’s called “Susan’s Blues.” It starts with a bass groove (Ed and Susan felt that was a little self-serving) and then moves into a minor blues with a few twists. I quite like it. You can hear that everyone in the restaurant liked it, too. They all stopped what they were doing to listen to this world premiere jazz song. I’m kidding. They continued eating and talking, completely unaware that we were giving birth to a brand new song!