About That Song: The Neighborhood Quartet
About That Song #43
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
In the 43rd edition of this series, I connected with three members of The Neighborhood Quartet, a supergroup made up of sought-after Twin Cities musicians who support many other acts. We talked about influential songs, experiences and artists as well as their songwriting process and the first single from their upcoming album.
The Neighborhood Quartet. Photo credit: Benny Moreno - Helios Photography.
Sarah: Hi Dan Schwartz! Nick Salisbury! Steve Roehm!
Congratulations on the upcoming release of your debut album. You’ve played together for years—what a thrill to now release an album together as The Neighborhood Quartet. All of you are in-demand players within our thriving Twin Cities musical community, but this project gives you a chance to also display your compositional powers. I would love to learn more about the songs that brought each of you to this place in your individual musical journeys, as well as hear a bit about how songwriting works within the framework of this project. Let’s start with—do you remember the song that you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Dan: Can I bend the rules a bit here?
Sarah: Yes! Bend em!
Dan: It wasn’t so much a song, but a collection of songs—actually, more an experience involving a collection of songs—and when I say songs I mean tunes, because they were instrumental pieces. Back in high school I was given a collection of Leo Kottke tunes by my choir teacher recorded on a cassette tape. I took that cassette and dropped it in my Sony Walkman, put on my metal rimmed headphones, put on my cross country skis and headed out the back door and skied down my street during a huge blizzard.
There was something quite magical about that night—skiing the city streets around my neighborhood, alone, listening to this music that seemed to perfectly fit the experience. It was an odd and beautiful experience! This was the first time I had heard Leo Kottke’s music—I didn’t know what he was doing to make those sounds, but I wanted to find out! That memory to me marks when I started down the path of exploring instrumental acoustic guitar music.
Sarah: That does sound magical—serendipitous, perhaps. I like when a teacher hands someone something and it just casually changes…everything. How about you, Steve?
Steve: Well for me it wasn’t really a song that spurred my interest in songwriting. It was a short little story on the local news. They interviewed a man who had re-recorded some Beach Boy songs. The songs sounded great and then you learned in the news short that he’d played and sung everything by himself at his house and captured it with a four-track recorder. I think that technology was new at the time and that’s why it was newsworthy. Anyway, I thought that was really cool and I wanted to do it too.
Sarah: Fantastic! About That News Story! Nick?
Nick: Gosh, I don’t know. I can’t really point to any one specific song. What sparked my curiosity the most at an early age was listening to bass players and guitarists that were flashy, and wanting to find ways to duplicate that without just copying their songs and riffs. So, at age 15 I was making little punk rock tunes with my friends and trying to play bass like Flea. Of course many of the songs in that genre aren’t really about subtlety or thoughtful storytelling, so it wasn’t until a few years later that I began to think more about what makes a song or composition work. At that point I wasn’t trying to write anything, but my listening habits were starting to mature, and I began to recognize more of the storytelling elements in songs.
Sarah: I think it’s almost mandatory that some time should be spent trying to play bass like Flea (I’m looking right here at my brother). It sounds like songwriting developed fairly organically out of a process of paying close attention. Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it—was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song…
Dan: For me it would be a piece called “Sad Little Girl” that I wrote in college. We had to write a lot of music, specifically études, in the guitar program I was in. Many of them were just that—technical studies; exercises on challenging your fingers—but didn’t really have much emotion behind them.
“Sad Little Girl” started as an étude but it ended up developing into something more meaningful. I have a strong memory of the night I started working on it. It was a satisfying feeling of developing the counterpoint lines that were the focal point for the étude while sitting at this beautiful grand piano in one of the conservatories’ ornate performance spaces. I was feeling kind of legit about how it was sounding and looking on the paper. It was an inspiring “you can do this” kind of experience—one that got me through many other times in college when I felt I was in way over my head!
Steve: Here’s another reply that doesn’t really answer the question directly. In the mid 90s I’d been dabbling in songwriting (using a four-track) while also trying to become a full-time musician by playing the vibraphone. I’d been writing, practicing, networking and playing in a handful of bands.
During this time I’d gotten engaged, and my fiancée (Jodi) bought me a Roland 1680 which was a 16-track digital recorder. This device was something completely out of my financial reach. That digital studio was the catalyst to music creation for me. All of a sudden I was able to record anything and everything, which enabled me to learn how to write and record songs because it gave me a flexibility I’d never had. It changed everything for me. It gave me opportunities across the spectrum that I hadn’t had before and fully immersed me in what became my career.
Nick: I still don’t regard myself as any sort of songwriter in the traditional sense. I have no command of lyrics. Prior to The Neighborhood Quartet, I did manage to write a harmonic structure to one of Ashleigh Still’s songs, and I co-wrote a couple of songs with Ray Barnard for Sonny Knight & The Lakers, but that was about it. It’s only in the past couple years that I’ve begun writing instrumental things I’ve felt good enough about bringing to others.
Being a part of a group of musicians who are open to trying things, and possess great interpretive capabilities, is a big part of why I’m exploring composing more than ever before. Dan and I play a lot of duo gigs together as well, so that’s often the first place I’ll try out something new, then it gets brought to the quartet. One of the first tunes I brought in is called “You Don’t Live Here Anymore.” I wrote that in January 2022 while in COVID isolation. Once I played it with Dan, I thought “Hey, this isn’t half bad. Maybe I’ve got more in me.”
Sarah: I bet you do. It’s so good when we find ourselves in community with fellow musicians that make it safe-feeling to TRY things. Knowing that you all play in so many musical projects, I’m curious—do any of you recall the first song that made you realize you had a distinctive ensemble voice? A project in need of a name, and eventually an album?
Dan: I’m going to ask to bend the rules again with this answer…
Sarah: I’ll say yes, again!
The Neighborhood Quartet. Photo credit: Benny Moreno - Helios Photography.
Dan: This group existed as The Neighborhood Trio for a number of years prior to adding Greg Schutte on drums. I don’t remember the exact song, but I do remember the first time playing with Greg thinking “Holy $%*@—Greg Schutte!!” What took us so long to come up with this brilliant idea of asking him to be part of the group?!
Steve: I would say we had a successful sound as a trio. We’d gigged that way for a decade. Dan and I always had these conversations about adding a drummer. Playing music without a drummer has always had its challenges but benefits too.
We invited Greg to play at a Midtown Global Market gig. Greg showed up with the minimal amount of drums a drummer could. Then we proceeded to perform and have the most fun I think we’d ever had. Playing our songs on top of Greg’s groove was eye-opening and a page-turning moment for us. It was so much easier to play and more energetic. I feel like Greg’s contribution has made our sound what it is now.
Sarah: My question should have been About That Drummer! I love it!
Nick: I agree with Dan and Steve. The trio sound is great and unique. The group was initially conceived as a vibes, guitar and upright bass configuration. I’m the third bass player in the band’s history, and I started by bringing my meager upright skills to the table, but before long my wrist was bugging me, with what I later learned was a benign cyst. It’s fine now, but in the meantime I started bringing an electric bass instead of upright.
This changed the rhythmic structure and tone of the band’s low end, making things a bit more R&B-sounding. Then when we invited Greg to join us on a gig, it became obvious that this is where the band’s evolution is leading us. I love Greg. I’ve been lucky enough to play, record and tour with him, and it’s always the most enjoyable and intuitive musical connection. His playing in The Neighborhood Quartet has really opened things up for me, and how I play this music.
Sarah: Steve, you wrote the infectious first single, “Hey Fellas”—which made me desperately want to own a convertible and take advantage of our early spring. Can you tell us about that song?
Steve: I love that you have that reaction to the song. I’ve always felt like the song had this kid-like energy to it. Kind of like the theme to Sesame Street. I wrote the song decades ago. It started as an étude of sorts for the vibraphone, and over the years evolved into its final form that you hear now. People just seem to like it and it’s got a great hook.
I have fun stories about that tune. My friend Ken Chasten works at an ad agency and wanted to record some marimba. I’m a faculty member at MacPhail Center for Music and have access to a 5th octave marimba, so I brought it to Ken’s and recorded all day. He asked if I had any tunes of interest for the project. We ended up making a short recording of “Hey Fellas.”
When it came time for the client to pick the final song, “Hey Fellas” was their choice. It ended up being used in a water conservation ad campaign in Nevada. I’ve also had the song arranged for an intermediate jazz band (9th grade), and recently performed the arrangement with the Hopkins Jazz Band for the annual Pops concert.
Sarah: That song has gotten to have so many adventures—how wonderful! Dan, one of your compositional contributions to the album is the gorgeous track “Baja.” Can you tell us about that song?
Dan: “Baja” was inspired by one of my favorite guitarists, Thomas Nordland, and his album Divide Avenue. I wrote this song after seeing/hearing his album release show for that project. I remember hearing about a trip Thomas and another friend of ours, Andrew Foreman, took to Baja, Mexico. That record feels like a musical travelog of their trip—soaking up the energy, the vibe, the sounds of that area. That beautiful collection of music was a result of the experience.
I was so taken by this music that I felt like I was on the trip with them—sitting in the back of the open bed of an El Camino taking it all in with them. It’s an amazing record! I originally called this tune “Sounds my friends Thomas and Andrew heard while on their trip to Baja,” but the title gradually was reduced.
Sarah: HA!!! I do like that title a lot. I will happily take the convertible I grabbed while listening to “Hey Fellas” and road trip it down to Baja. Nick Salisbury! I am fortunate enough to get to make music with you on a pretty regular basis, but listening to “Dreams Beyond Our Mildest Wealth” was the first time I heard a Nick Salisbury original. As a fan, I was THRILLED. Can you tell us about that song? And about that title?
Nick: Well, I wanted to write a simple melody, like a folk song. Something hummable. Sometimes musicians feel compelled to make things overly complicated or heady, and I’m trying to resist that. This tune is pretty simple, with only the “B” section getting a little adventurous. I’m able to play it all unaccompanied on the bass, which is another thing I’m finding about the way I write. It’s almost all done on the bass, because that’s what I know and love. For the title I thought about humble people, wishing for what feels unattainable, and beyond their means.
Sarah: Thank you all for stopping by About That Song, which really here was: about that étude, about that recording device, about that record, about that drummer. The album is a delight. Congratulations!
Get tickets to The Neighborhood Quartet’s album release show, coming up Sunday, April 28, at The Parkway Theater in Minneapolis! Dylan Hicks & Small Screens will join them for this special event. Doors are at 6pm, show starts at 7.
Listen to “Hey Fellas”
The Neighborhood Quartet Album Credits
Recorded and mixed by Greg Schutte at Boom Island Recording, Minneapolis
Produced by Greg Schutte and NHQT
Mastered by Greg Reierson at Rare Form Mastering
Design by Tod Foley
Tracks 1, 2, 3, 4, 9 written by Steven G Roehm (ASCAP)
Tracks 5, 6, 7, 10 written by Daniel William Schwartz (BMI)
Track 8 written by Nick Salisbury (ASCAP)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris. Photo credit: Tom Smouse.
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.
