black & white

  • “Black & White”
    (Mark-Paul Rosenmeier)


    Mmm

    All my dreams were in Black & White
    Cynical my whole life
    Never caught a break
    Then you almost got away

    I’m so tired waking in fright
    Running from monsters at night
    I was so afraid
    You wouldn’t be here to stay

    Ooh
    Ooh
    Ooh

    All the days I couldn’t shake
    All the nights I’d lie awake
    Times wasted can’t be erased
    Have now all been replaced

    You’re the beacon that guided me through
    Til the clouds gave way to blue
    I drifted so far away
    Tell me you’re here to stay

    Ooh
    Ooh
    Ooh

    All my dreams were in Black & White

    Ooh
    Ooh
    Ooh

    ©2023 Vestigial Müzich

  • After Emma passed in 2021, it felt right to hang up my songwriter’s hat. As Emma had always been my true muse and biggest fan, to end on that note—literally—with For Me, a song written for her just a month before she crossed the rainbow bridge, felt poetic. It was the feather in the cap of a 30-year chapter in my life.

    For Me came together faster than any song I’d ever written—perhaps because I knew, deep down, that time was running out. It captured my signature style and represented the culmination of decades of honing my craft. To me, it was the perfect song. The fact that she got to hear it completed before she passed warms my heart.

    To stay true to my decision to explore other creative outlets, I never considered Black & White a “song” in the traditional sense. It was more of a writing exercise than an inspired creation. The challenge I gave myself was to deconstruct two songs by an artist whose style was unfamiliar to me—James Blunt’s 1973 and Bonfire Heart—and then build something original from those elements. A self-imposed test, just to see if I could do it. This final version of Black & White strips away many of Blunt’s more recognizable stylings from my original demo, making the influence less obvious.

    The chord progression came from an unfinished piano piece I started around 1997 called One Lasting Love. The idea of dreaming in black and white—as a metaphor for a life untouched by love—came to me quickly, and I felt compelled to explore it. I vaguely remembered hearing, as a kid, that people dream in black and white. Curious, I made a conscious effort through my childhood to remember my dreams and test that theory. What I discovered was: I dream in color.

    Since the phrase Black & White appears in the verse—and because I was set on keeping it as the title, partly due to my love of B&W photography—I struggled with what to write for the chorus. I didn’t want to lean too heavily into the metaphor or its obvious contrast with a chromatic life. So instead, I decided to simply “ooh” my way through it. When in doubt—and when filler is needed—you really can’t go wrong with a few well-placed ooh’s, oh’s, and ah’s.

    ~mpR

Prove me wrong (hold fast)

  • “Prove Me Wrong (Hold Fast)”
    (Mark-Paul Rosenmeier)


    Thought I’d seen my better days
    My shot at true love gone
    But I never felt this strong

    I’ve made my share of mistakes
    They say past is prologue
    But what if I get this wrong

    ‘Cause time slips away
    Like the tide it just won’t wait

    She said

    Hold Fast, ooh
    Through the wind and waves
    We got what it takes, ooh
    And I’ll be there when the new day dawns
    Prove Me Wrong
    Prove Me Wrong

    This is all I have to show
    For all my squandered years
    Oh, but now you’re here

    I’m gonna hold on tight
    With all your might

    Will you

    Hold Fast, ooh
    Through the wind and waves
    We’ll weather the storms we’ll face, ooh
    Will you be here when the tempest calms, ooh
    Or Prove Me Wrong

    I’ll still be here when the morning comes
    Ooh, Oh

    Prove Me Wrong
    Prove Me Wrong
    Prove Me Wrong

    ©2020 Vestigial Müzich

  • Stories of seafarers—from William Shakespeare’s The Tempest to Herman Melville, Patrick O’Brian, Sebastian Junger, and Nathaniel Philbrick—have always fascinated me. The phrase “hold fast” tattooed across a sailor’s knuckles, the treacherous sea as a metaphor for love and doubt—it all resonated deeply. Rough waters, rather than bumpy roads, offered a far more satisfying image for navigating the complexities of a relationship.

    Since 1988, I had always written with a partner, contributing primarily as a lyricist — my singing voice being just passable enough to convey a melody. Over time, I taught myself piano and gradually picked up music theory. One day, I heard my brother use the phrase “prove me wrong”—something related to job interviews, as I recall—and it struck me as a uniquely powerful title for a song. Love seemed like the natural subject to pair with it. The theme reminded me of Even After Forever, a song I co-wrote back in 1992—another take on reassurance in a relationship.

    But in 2016, I decided it was time to attempt my first solo composition. I sat at my keyboard and began with the chords, aiming for a laid-back, soulful groove in the spirit of Here I Am—a song influenced by Al Green’s classic sound. The lyrics emerged organically from the theme I had already chosen. I remember Emma sitting beside me as I whittled away at the tune one evening. At some point, my fingers landed—almost by instinct—on the right chords for the chorus. The interplay of relative minor and major keys wasn’t intentional; it came more from experience than theory. But I love how that “happy accident” supports the song’s emotional arc: the minor key captures the relationship’s underlying doubt, while the major shift delivers the lyrical reassurance.

    In 2020, after a few revisits to the song, I decided it was time to record it. But on the very morning I was set to send off the files to the vocalist, I had second thoughts about the hook. Standing in the shower, I reworked it in my head. Moments later, with the towel still wrapped around me, I sat at the keyboard and tried out the new version—just minutes before the deadline. Sure enough, the rewrite stuck. However, the production direction of the demo leaned more into an ’80s rock sound, moving further from its original soulful intentions.

    At first, I fell into the trap of thinking the recording was amazing simply because it was fresh. But once the excitement faded, I realized it showed promise more than polish. So five years later—with some small tweaks and a new perspective—this 2025 version is finally ready to share. This time around, rendered as a LoFi track with a subtle R&B feel.

    ~mpR

can’t change the way i feel

  • “Can't Change The Way I Feel”
    (Mark-Paul Rosenmeier)


    How time goes by and seasons turn
    But the fire in my heart still burns
    Through the nights and for all my days
    My love for you won’t wane, ooh

    Can’t Change The Way I Feel, no, no
    Through the highs, through the lows, I know
    There’s no doubt that this is real
    Can’t Change The Way I Feel

    When mountains crumble, and oceans dry
    And all the stars fall from the skies
    Through it all, we’ll find our way
    My love for you won’t fade, ooh

    Can’t Change The Way I Feel, no, no
    Through the highs, through the lows, I know
    There’s no doubt that this is real
    Can’t Change The Way I Feel

    No
    Through the highs, through the lows, I know
    There’s no doubt that this is real
    Can’t Change The Way I Feel

    ©2024 Vestigial Müzich

  • Since the beginning of my songwriting journey, I’ve always chased the elusive, quintessential love song. Sure, there are already countless classics—but I’ve always wanted to leave my own mark with one. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I tend to swing between being overly wordy or overly simplistic in how I approach it. Sometimes I’m too literal, or too caught up in grammar and structure instead of focusing on the heart of what makes a song work. And often, simple really is best.

    In 2024, I wrote a throwaway 8-bar idea just for fun—an exercise in playing eighth notes against triplets. With a basic chord progression laid down, I added a short melodic line. When it came time to save the file, I had to give it a name. There was no theme, no lyrics—just a sketch I thought might be useful later. But when I listened back to the piano part, the phrase “change the way I feel” naturally fell into place over the melody. And it stuck.

    When it comes to the quintessential love song, Pachelbel’s Canon in D has to be on the list. It’s the wedding song. Funny enough, the chorus progression in this track borrows heavily from it. Given the theme, I’m not mad about that.

    The idea sat untouched for months before I revisited it and began developing the lyrics. The first verse explores the passage of time—a theme I’ve always been drawn to—and how love can remain unchanged despite it. The second verse zooms out: even as seemingly permanent things like mountains, oceans, and stars fade, they still can’t compare to the endurance of love.

    Is this the greatest love song ever written? No. But it says the basics. And sometimes, that’s enough.

    ~mpR