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!
As you may know, the St. Sinner Orchestra has a new CD coming out. As I contemplated ways we might promote it, I reluctantly considered an unboxing video. For those of you who have been sequestered in a cave without access to TikTok, an unboxing video is exactly what it sounds like: a video of someone opening a box. Usually, the box has a shiny new tech product inside, but sometimes the focus is on clothing, toys, or games.
As much as I loathe these totems to consumerism, I decided to play along. At St. Sinner’s CD release concert on July 27, I will not only unbox the new CDs in front of a live audience–I will sing a brand new unboxing theme song, accompanied by the orchestra.
“How does he do it?” You ask. “How does he turn the mundane into art?!” A better question might be why I do it… While you’re pondering that question, you might want to peruse the long line of odd songs I’ve written through the years.
Unboxing video, unboxing video, we’re gonna open a box!
Unboxing video, unboxing video, come on, let’s open a box!
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.
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.
illustration courtesy of https://www.wannapik.com/
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.
I have been a member of the Rascals, Rogues, and Rapscallions since its inception in 1989, though less active in recent years. In those early years, I designed the Rascal flag, created a documentary about Burgettstown, PA, and have even been known to smoke a ceremonial Rascal cigar.
One of my other roles was that of “maestro,” leading the singing of “My Last Cigar,” assembling male quartets and brass bands for various occasions, and most notably, composing the fraternal order’s theme song.
Greg, back when he had hair and smoked cigars.
“Interesting Thing” captures in song the group’s quest for knowledge, love of adventure, and fascination with the obscure, mundane, and offbeat. I was recently asked to record the song for posterity. The chorus is a rousing march that can be sung again and again with gusto. The verses…not so much. I originally envisioned writing a new verse for each meeting’s presentation. For example, one of the verses in this recording commemorates Dennis Looney’s presentation on the persistence of Dante in popular culture.
Sometimes people ask me how I come up with ideas for songs. It can happen in a variety of ways: sometimes I’m working with a text that suggests a particular melody; other times a particular series of chords proves fertile for development; I’ve even been known to write songs based on wrong notes I played trying to learn another song!
But in the case of “Stupid Things,” my dogs were my musical inspiration. They must have been doing one of their trademark stupid moves like wanting to go on a walk so badly that they can’t stop jumping long enough or me to put their leash on. I exclaimed, “You are stupid things!” and a song was born.
Last week I wrote bright, breezy jazz tune that I immediately named “Chippy” for its upbeat, chipper character. As I revised it throughout the week, I had the humorous idea of adding lyrics with as many iterations of the word chip as possible.
We played it live Thursday night, but it didn’t go particularly well. Plus, I needed to make some revisions. (I used Occam’s razor to cut out the fat.) After revising it I decided that a recording of just bass and voice might be nice.
Interestingly, I had no idea that “Chippy” is an actual word meaning a fish and chip shop, a person who is cranky and defensive, a prostitute, a carpenter, an aggressive hockey player, or a habit or addiction. It is also a computer game, a brand of chips, an Indian actress, and a rapper (Chippy Nonstop). Who knew?
Maybe I should cash in my chips. When the chips are down, just give in. What I need’s a bargaining chip, computer chip, maybe some fish and chips.
I am just a chip off the old block. The chips may be down, but I’m not! I will just keep chipping away, chips fall where they may: I’m feeling chipper today!
What the world needs right now is another song about coffee.
This song idea has been floating around forever in my head and little scraps of paper. It started as only a phrase: “It’s just the coffee talking.” Then last year I decided it would be funny for the words of a song about coffee to get faster and more incoherent as the song progressed. A few months ago I came up with the scenario of a man who’s painfully shy around his love interest until he’s fully caffeinated. (Kind of like Brad Paisley’s “Alcohol,” but for coffee shop nerds.) This week I tied up all the loose ends and present to you “Coffee Talking.”
1. When I see you, what can I do?
2. When I see that you are near me, my mouth goes dry, I stare at my feet.
Caffeine’s what I need. It’ll be my black bolt of courage In my time of need. With my head full of steam, next time I see you walking It’ll be the coffee talking in me.
3. Suddenly I’m not so scared, I’m optimistically preparing. (It’s just the coffee talking.) I’m filled with confidence, you say to me, “Nice day,” and I say, “Very!” (It’s just the coffee talking.) Well, I’m on a roll, try something new: I pat your dog, say “He’s so cute.” (It’s just the coffee talking.) Seems to work, I turn to you, I pat your head and say, “You are cute, too!” (It’s just the coffee talking.)
CHORUS
4. Euphoria is filling me just like I hoped it would and I have never felt so good and I have never been so free. (It’s just the coffee talking.) My mouth has taken on a mind that’s all its own, my tongue’s untied, My lungs fill up with air for good or ill I start to speak: (It’s just the coffee talking.) “Hey, would you go out with me? I think about it all the time— but not like that—I hope I didn’t come across as sounding super creepy. (It’s just the coffee talking.) But I could see the two of us fall head and heels in love and get engaged and married, make some babies, maybe start with dinner and a movie.” (It’s just the coffee talking.)
CHORUS
Hey, I’m sorry. (It was just the coffee talking.) Please don’t worry. (It was just the coffee talking.) That’s not like me. (It was just the coffee talking.) It’s just the coffee. (It was just the coffee talking.)
1. You can kiss anyone that you want to kiss, Lick anyone that you want to lick. You can visit anyone that you really miss, But me, I’m staying home.
You can go anywhere you want to go You can shake some hands and stand real close You can hug everybody that you’ve ever known But me, I’m staying home.
I’m staying home You could go out, but I don’t advise it. I’m staying home. Me, I’m staying home.
I’m staying home, The best way to fight a virus Is staying home. Me, I’m staying home. (We/Everybody must )
2. You can fight the law, you can fight the man You can go to the bathroom and not wash your hands You can touch your eyeballs again and again And that’s why I’m staying home.
You can be just as stupid as you want to be You can claim it’s all a conspiracy But if you die don’t you come crying to me Cause I am staying home.
This Sunday at Fuller Ave, Nate was preaching from 2 Corinthians 13:11: “Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice!” The service was all about joy, so we decided the praise set should be a rambunctious Sunday School Singalong.
A scene of pure joy from my favorite boys.
On a long bike ride the day before the service I got to singing a little ditty inspired by NRBQ’s “Down in My Heart.” Nothing deep, just a tune full of joy. I was enjoying it so much that I stopped on the side of the road and sang it into my cellphone just in case I forgot it!
The next day I introduced it to the congregation. It fit beautifully alongside “This Is the Day,” “Rejoice in the Lord Always,” and “I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy (Down in My Heart).”
As the year draws to a close, one has to take stock and observe, “That sucked.” Yes, 2018 was about the worst year since 7th grade. Worst. Year. Ever.
The good news? It can only go up from here. To commemorate the enormous sinkhole that was 2018 and the great hopes for a brighter future, I’ve written “A New Year’s Carol.” On the surface it may sound a little bleak to sing “it’s been a terrible year,” but there is hope embedded in the music of this carol. You see, the key rises a whole step with each repeat of the carol. Crazy, huh? You want to really geek out? I double all the tracks at the octave so that I could create Shepard Tones–the effect that the song continuously rises without actually going out of range. (Although I’m singing nearly four octaves all told.)
By all accounts it’s been a terrible year. As the days dragged into months, there was little to cheer. Sing “Oo la loo ley!” when there’s nothing to say. Sing “Oo la ley loo!” for what else can you do? But next year cannot be worse, so it’s all up from here!
You want to sing along? Here’s the music: PDF. You want to hear the Shepard Tones more clearly? Here’s an instrumental MP3.
