This is, literally, my musical diary–notes fresh from my pen and recorded in a few hours. You can find my finished works elsewhere; here, it's all about capturing the moment!
Here’s a little gem left over from 2023’s recording session with Steve Talaga. You might remember that Steve and I pounded out demos of over a dozen songs in an afternoon. I tell you that to make sure your expectations are sufficiently low.
In this particular case, we recorded Mr. McJudgypants live on piano and electric bass, and then I went back later and added drums and electric guitars. So, if in some spots, you wonder what has happened to Steve’s impeccable timing and groove, I can assure you it is no fault of his. He was playing to a rhythm section that didn’t yet exist!
Now, a more pressing question: Who is Mr. McJudgypants? The sheet music says that he is the son of Mr. Green Genes. Hmm… Though his true identity remains shrouded in mystery, I will say he reminds me a lot of my younger son, Theo, who has a knack for asking rhetorical questions in a way that lets you know you’re on the wrong side of right.
I continue to work my way through Michael Morgan’s Psalms, while also building toward a future jazz/gospel Psalm album. Those two things came together in this new song, a warm jazz ballad of Psalm 75.
One of the things I love about Michael Morgan’s Psalms is that he doesn’t shy away from difficult sections like, “In the hand of the Lord is a cup full of foaming wine mixed with spices; he pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth drink it down to its very dregs,” but he somehow finds a way to place it in the context of a tender, loving God who wants the best for us.
Interesting composition story*: I often write a few completely different versions of a song. I write them quickly, without much editing. That allows me some subjectivity and gives me options to choose from as I move forward. In this case, I began by identifying the basic rhythm I heard in the text: 3 unstressed syllables leading to a stressed syllable. (O God, your DEEDS are un-sur-PASSED, etc.)
That led to a first draft in a modal style. It had its charms, but also had some range issues. The second attempt was a pentatonic melody that was lovely, but reminded me of some things I’ve written before. Today I sat down at the piano and this jazz melody poured out almost as fast as I could write it. It combines some of the better features of the earlier tunes, but has a more interesting harmonic structure and satisfying form. Voila! I fired up my musical robots (Band-in-a-Box) and produced this quick demo by the end of the day. Very satisfying.
O God, your deeds are unsurpassed; no richer grace can earth impart. Your Name is near; you hold us fast. Your love enfolds each yearning heart, your love enfolds each yearning heart.
1. Remove our pride lest we must taste the judgment cup of bitter gall. Let not our bold ambitions take the praise from you, who gives us all. Refrain
2. In truth, all judgment comes from you, whatever earthly courts decree; the evil by your justice fall; the righteous through your grace are free. Refrain
3. Help us to know humility, to follow you in all your ways. From self-conceit, Lord, set us free, to know ourselves and sing your praise. Refrain
*Let’s be honest: there has never been an interesting composition story.
I wanted to feel like I had accomplished something last week, so Friday afternoon I recorded a quick demo of a new Psalm setting. (And then promptly didn’t have time to post it…)
The lyrics are the work of Michael Morgan and were written for the Timeless Psalter to the tune of TOULON. While that tune’s rugged beauty portrays the regal aspects of Psalm 89:1-8 well, I thought there was room for a more gentle interpretation of the Psalm and Michael’s metrical version of it.
Working in a jazz ballad style allowed the tenderness I was hoping for and also gave me lots of room to move harmonically. I love how the key of C quickly turns into a winding path that eventually leads to a chorus in E. No F#. Wait…Bb? And then back to C. And yet for all the twists and turns, it remains quite singable.
1. For all your loving acts, O Lord, I sing; my mouth will shout your faithfulness and care; and heaven’s grateful host will honor bring to you, who wondrous gifts so freely share.
2. What other god of earth and sky can boast the great and awesome blessings you afford? What other mighty one among the host deserves such praise that we should call him “Lord?”
The sky belongs to you, the earth, and all that fill its fertile lands from shore to shore. Your arm with strength will lift us when we fall, and righteousness endure for evermore.
3. Send down true justice from your lofty throne, and all-infusive light shine on our ways, for only by your will such joy we own, and for your gracious favor give you praise!
I’ve been playing around with stacked fourths a lot lately. “Don’t we all, Greg?” You say. I certainly hope so; it’s great fun.
In this song, I combined the open, biting sound of a melody stacked in fourths on top of an ethereal bass groove. I think this tune’s a winner, but the demo is certainly not. I didn’t have muted trumpets and saxophones at my disposal, so I used the melodica–not exactly the king of jazz horns.
I had an idea for a breezy jazz tune a while back, but the bridge had been eluding me. That is, until a few days ago. The title of the song is, of course, a play on the phrase, “second fiddle”–except that this tune is built on fourths. (And there’s no fiddle.)
I’m sorry I didn’t have time to do more with the recording. It’s just a quick sketch using Band-in-a-Box and my guitar. It gets the point across, but not much more. I’m eager to try it out with some live musicians at some point in the future. For now, enjoy this little musical bon bon!
Shortly after Cindy Prince heard my music for her lyrics “Only Good Vibes,” she sent me a message: “Do you do jazz?” Clearly, in the short time we’ve known each other, she’s learned that I can’t resist a challenge! Yes, I do jazz. And I had a ton of fun working with her song, “That Mr. Jazz.”
Beer City Saxes and St. Sinner Orchestra joined forces for a Night of Sax & Violins on November 8, 2024 at The Stray. One of the songs we played together was a brand-new tune celebrating the magic of the holidays in the Mitten State: “Christmas in Michigan.”
On November 8, 2024, the St. Sinner Orchestra teamed up with Beer City Saxes for an Evening of Sax & Violins at The Stray. It was an amazing evening of traditional jazz, rock and roll, and a bunch of stuff in between. I want to call it a “historic” or “ground-breaking” collaboration, but I’ll settle for “unprecedented” or “highly unusual.” The 22 musicians involved played beautifully and went home content.
Here is one of the five songs we played together: “Broken,” from our 2024 release, Synonyms for Goodbye.
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.
I’m a huge fan of Chet Baker, especially when he sings or performs with orchestra. One of my favorites is a mopey ballad called “Everything Happens to Me,” written by Tom Adair and Matt Dennis. It hilariously bemoans the unrequited love of the unluckiest person in the world: “I’ve telegraphed and phoned / I sent an Airmail Special too / Your answer was ‘Goodbye’ / And there was even postage due.”
I pick up a little of that vibe in my new song, “But I Do.” It all started with a musical phrase that suggested the lyric, “You don’t, but I do.” From there I spun the tale of a melancholic pessimist who is either lying awake thinking about the latest catastrophe or anticipating the next one. The only solace for our hapless protagonist is that living a life of angst and disappointment is more interesting than the lives of those who are confident and content.
So get your mope on with “But I do”!
1. Do you have sleepless nights? Well, I do. Wake up still in a crisis? Me, too! After all these years, you’d think that I would have learned. But every day I seem to sink from bad to worse. Oh, aren’t you lying awake like I do? Maybe you don’t, but I do.
2. Have you figured life out? Well, not me. You’re so sure of yourself, well, we’ll see. You exude such confidence, such charm, and such poise. You’ve got the brains and looks, for sure, but you’re boring. Maybe perfect’s a tad annoying. But maybe that’s just me.
3. No one wallows in angst like I do. Morose or just being frank? Well, you choose. If I walk the sunny side of the street it will rain. I try to see the glass half full, but empty’s winning. You don’t wait for the next shoe· to drop, too. Well, you don’t, but I do.
