The Musical Diary of Greg ScheerI’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.
Forever ago, Outside Pocket played a show for which Olivia Vargas was the opener. The week of, she posted a video of a new song she had written for the concert. I had hoped to surprise her with a companion tune–something that echoed the bluesy feel of her new song–but I just couldn’t bring things together in time for the show.
That draft has been sitting in my idea folder for months. After a few false starts, I finished the song today. I’m still not sure what to think about it: It’s instrumental, but not jazz in the traditional sense. I could hear it being performed by a jazz/blues sax player backed up by a gritty, groovin’ Soul/R&B rhythm section. But I didn’t have that at my disposal today, so I recorded the demo with electric guitar, Rhodes, nylon string guitar, bass, and programmed drums.
And yes, the opening riff is from Three Dog Nights’ “One Is the Loneliest Number.”
I was surprised to discover I hadn’t set Psalm 63 to music yet. Perhaps I shied away because I thought the competition would be fierce for a Psalm like this; it is a Psalm full of beautiful sentiments that fairly beg to be sung:
“I thirst for you.”
“My whole being longs for you.”
“Your love is better than life.”
“I sing in the shadow of your wings.”
Interestingly, there are relatively few songs based on Psalm 63 given its popularity:
“Step by Step,” made famous by Rich Mullins
“O God, You Are My God Alone” by the Iona Community
“My Soul Is Thirsting” by Michael Joncas (my favorite)
As I sat down with the Psalm, I was immediately struck by its yearning tone. There is a strong sense of longing throughout. Too often, our faith is fueled by duty, guilt, or habit. It is refreshing to hear the Psalmist expressing faith in such a passionate way. I decided the best musical style to portray this passion would be jazz. Jazz has juicy chords and unresolved melody notes that make it a rich emotional palette. In fact, in the first 6 bars, the melody is made up almost entirely of notes that don’t match the chord. This creates a sense of longing that never quite resolves. I know this elusive quality will make the song hard for congregations to sing; it may be more appropriate sung by the music leaders only.
1. You, O God, you are my God.
With all my heart I’m seeking you.
My thirsty soul, it longs for you.
I have beheld your glory.
My life is filled with your love.
With every breath I am singing.
My hands, I am lifting.
I’ll never stop praising you.
2. For you, O God, you are my God.
Throughout the night I dwell on you.
And though I sleep, I dwell with you.
I shelter here in the shadows,
secure beneath your wing.
I cling to you for my safety
from all those who hate me.
I’ll never stop praising you.
3. For you, O God, you are my God.
With all I am, I rejoice in you.
O God, my joy is found in you.
On Thursday, I’ll lead an assembly called “Help Me Write a Jazz Song” at a local elementary school. I’ll tell them what a composer does and what it takes to write a song. Then I’ll tell them about my plan to release a jazz album for children named Just Kidding. I’ll play them a few songs I’ve already written, then enlist their help finding subjects they’d like to hear songs about. Finally, we’ll take one of their ideas and start writing a song.
In preparation for Thursday, I’m feverishly finishing some song ideas that have been hanging around for far too long. Case in point: “Brush Your Teeth.” This delightful little ode to oral hygiene includes the word “gingivitis” and a melodica solo. Pretty much a slam dunk by any estimation.
1. Brush your teeth.
They are the only ones you’ve got.
Brush your teeth.
You think it’s hard, but it’s not.
You might think it hurts,
but dentures are far worse!
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth, brush your teeth.
2. Brush your teeth,
‘cause gingivitus is a drag.
Brush your teeth.
You need to listen to your mom and dad.
‘Cause, when you brush and floss
your mouth feels like a boss.
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth, brush your teeth.