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!
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.
Update 1/21/22: Sheet music for this song is now available at gregscheer.com.
I’ve collaborated with Naaman Wood before and together we produced one of my favorite Psalm settings. So as I pushed ahead on my goal of setting the whole Psalter to music, I decided to get in touch with him to see if he’d be willing to write something new. After a bit of arm twisting, he produced a beautiful rendering of Psalm 2.
The great thing about Psalm 2 and Naaman’s version of it is that it untangles the claims of earthly and heavenly power. In a political climate where many believe God to be on their side–or that they’re fighting on behalf of God–this Psalm lets us know that our constant wrestling for power is all for naught. God, and only God, stands above us as the ultimate power. It is only in God that we can find true refuge.
1. The restless nations rage, and people plot in vain. The earthly kingdoms fight against the Holy One. You sit above us, Lord, and mock our foolish ways, “A king I have enthroned upon my holy hill.”
2. You say unto the king, “Today you are my Son, And I will give to you the nations of the earth. Your iron rod will break the peoples of their rage, And shatter all their plans like pots of earthenware.”
3. Be wise, be warned, you kings and powers of the earth. Obey the Lord above and tremble at his word.
How blessed are all of us whose shelter is the Lord.
Update 1/25/22: Sheet music for this song is now available at gregscheer.com.
I continue to experiment with the intersection of Jazz and Psalmody. Will my experiments prove fruitful? Who knows. But I’ve learned that experimentation–play–is an important part of music growth, so I’ll continue to follow this path to see where it leads.
In this case, it led to Psalm 13, the loneliest of Psalms. It begins with the famous words, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” Many people have set this Psalm to music, so it’s unlikely that anything I will say will be entirely original. In my setting, I cast the “enemy” named in the Psalm as depression. The clues are all there: endless sorrow, feeling forgotten, emotional turmoil–even the lethargy and over-sleep that often accompanies depression. The Psalmist poignantly prays to be seen: “Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.” Certainly, we’ve all felt some of this at some point.
Musically, I accompanied this sad Psalm with a descending chromatic melody, mirroring the emotional plunge that depression brings. The opening melody is also a large hemiola, with 3-note “how longs” against the 4/4 meter. It’s not the easiest song to sing; I’m not entirely sure how well a congregation would do with it.
As you listen to the recording, you may wonder “Who are those fine musicians accompanying Greg?” They are all virtual instrumentalists! This is my first foray into using Band-in-a-Box as part of my demo process. I would say it worked exceedingly well. (Now if we could just do something about that singer!)
How long? How long? How long, O Lord?
1. How long will you forget me? Will you keep turning away from me? How long to drown in sorrow? Lord, will tomorrow bring no relief? (refrain)
2. How long until you see me, until you save me from endless sleep? How long until your light shines and hope fills my eyes? Lord, rescue me! (refrain)
3. I trust in love unfailing; of your salvation, my heart will sing. How long to lift God’s praises? I will proclaim: you’re so good to me! (refrain)
Update 1/25/22: Sheet music for this song is now available at gregscheer.com.
Any regular follower of this blog knows that I am on a quest to set every Psalm to music. A quick perusal of recent blog posts reveals that I’ve also been writing a series of jazz tunes for my trio to play at our weekly gig. This week, I combined those two seemingly different compositional threads: Voila! A jazz Psalm!
To tell you the truth, I don’t know what inspired me to combine Psalmody and jazz. It’s not my original idea, to be sure. Frankly, jazz is a performance music–and a virtuosic one at that. In my estimation, it adapts poorly to the demands of congregational worship music, which focuses on group singing. Nonetheless, I thought I’d give it a try to see if I could bring these disparate contexts together.
The lyrics of my Psalm 141 setting are a straightforward metrical versification. To that, I’ve added an optional Intro/Outro/Chorus. If I were leading this in a congregation, I’d likely have them sing that simple eight-measure phrase only, leaving the (more complicated) verses to a soloist until it became familiar. Of course, I didn’t lead it in a congregation; I led it in a bar. And that’s just what this recording sounds like.
1. O Lord, I call to you, please hear me; may my prayer like incense rise. And may my lifted hands, imploring, be to you a sacrifice.
Oh, sanctify my lips to sing the praise you’re due. Though evil offers fare so sweet, my heart will feast on you.
2. I count it as abundant blessing to receive a saint’s rebuke. For if it keeps my feet from wandering, I will gladly hear hard truth.
For evil will fall down, its power overthrown, and all its might will turn to dust that’s plowed into the ground.
3. My eyes are fixed on you, my Savior. My help comes from you alone. In you alone I find my refuge; guide me safely to my home.
For danger marks my way and evil lies in wait. I safely pass while they are snapped within the traps they’ve made.
I have a confession to make: I hate Christmas music. There. I’ve said it.
I don’t know if this hatred grew because I’m a liturgically-leaning worship director who dislikes the way the Season of Walmart displaces the Season of Advent. Or the sickly sentimentality of most popular Christmas music. Or the soundtrack of Yuletide dittes that accompanies the binge/purge cycle of consumerism that begins as quickly as the Halloween decorations are put away. Who knows? But I’m not a fan.
You can imagine my dismay as the last three weeks of my jazz gig turned exclusively to Christmas repertoire. Yikes. But I’m a good sport and have played along. This week, however, I was overcome by a strange desire to compose a Christmas song of my own. What?! It’s true. I sat down at the piano and an hour later there was “One More Christmas Song.”
My goal was to write a song that could sit comfortably next to all the other standards we would be playing. Indeed, I borrowed liberally from existing songs. You’ll hear echoes of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” “Angels We Have Heard on High,” “The Christmas Song,” and “Jingle Bells.” Not bad for a 16 measure song!
Do we need one more Christmas song? Do we all need to sing along? We need tidings of good cheer that will last throughout the rest of the year. It would be so glorious to sing of peace on earth and bring a message of good will to all whether near or far. Yes, we do need one more Christmas song!
This jazz tune was a long time in the making. It started its life as the 4 bar phrase that begins the song. I developed it into a full song and named it “Sprite Lee” because it was (wait for it…) sprightly. With time, however, it grew more and more complex, with shifts in and out of the key and weird phrases of uneven length, rendering it virtually indecipherable.
When I get lost in the musical weeds, I always think of Occam’s razor, which can be paraphrased as, “the simplest explanation is usually the best one.” In music, I take that to mean, “cut away the frills and doodads and get to the point.”
And that’s just what I did. I soon had hacked it down to a simple AABBA form that is delightfully tuneful and memorable. Since it was now an entirely different song than the previous version, I needed a new title, too. I chose: “Simple Lee (The man who shaved with Occam’s razor).”
Note: The trio was sight-reading this, so you’ll hear B naturals (instead of B flats) in the first time through the head.
When I was a kid, I had a 45* of the song “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.” The song is written by Joe Zawinul and has been performed by everyone from Cannonball Adderly to Queen Latifah. I can’t find the exact version I heard on that record all those years ago, but the song is etched in my musical memory.
Above are some examples of grace notes as they appear in music notation. They’re the little notes that are squeezed between the “real” notes.
I decided to write a song inspired by the thick Gospel groove of “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.” The tune was originally called “Grace, Grace, Grace” (you see what I did there?) but as I entered the music in Dorico and clicked the little button labeled “grace notes” to make a secondary melody smaller, I realized that “Grace Notes” was a much better name.
The harmonies in this song are much simpler than my other jazz tunes, instead concentrating on a catchy melody and knee-deep groove. On this recording, you can hear Steve Talaga on piano with a groove so far in the pocket that he’s counting change in his sock!
*Editor’s note to young people, a “45” is a small record that used to be the only way to hear hit singles.
My quest for the perfect jazz tune continues. “Alexander and Hall” began its life as a Stéphane Grappelli/Django Reinhardt style tune that was playing in my head while walking to work last week, but ended up being a chromatic bebop tune by the time I was finished.
While “Alexander and Hall” may sound like a law firm, it actually refers to streets I pass on the way to work. It was on the corner of Alexander that I was happily humming this tune when a car nearly ran me over. I would like to tell you he had a good excuse like texting and driving; no, he simply thought he had more right to a rolling stop than I had to cross the street on a crosswalk.
I’ve been writing some pungeunt, complicated jazz tunes recently. It’s good to explore the edges, but it’s also good to write simply and from the heart. I named this one “Placidity” because of its serene nature. From the first seed of an idea–a few chords played quietly at the piano–until last night’s premiere at the club, this song has a certain something that soothes the soul.
Of course, even the most soothing music needs some contrast, movement, and tension. There is a bit of that tension even in the opening melody. Notice how the melody stretches, starting with a 3rd against the root, then a 7th, then a 9th. It’s not a biting dissonance, but just enough that the melody feels like it’s lifting away from the harmony, then gently returning–an ebb and flow like ripples on a lake.
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!
