The story behind the Psalms
Two things were handed to me early: music, and the Psalms.
The music runs in the family. My grandfather played lead saxophone on The Lawrence Welk Show. My mother auditioned alongside Shirley Temple as a little girl and never stopped singing — in church and at every gathering — until she went home at 68. My sister is a gifted pianist. I picked up the rest by ear: trumpet, then saxophone, piano, guitar, bass, and drums, all self‑taught.
The Psalms came from my dad. He taught me to take the day of the month, read that Proverb and that Psalm, then add thirty and keep going until the chapters run out. I’ve done it nearly every day since I was eight — 54 years now. Do that long enough and the Psalms stop being something you read and become the way you think.
I’ve always believed worship has to be rooted right there — in the actual words of Scripture, theologically sound, not just a feeling set to music. So instead of writing songs about the Psalms, I set the Psalms themselves to song.
My 1990 album, a demonstration, gave me the music bug all over again. Back then I wrote every part, cut a demo, and brought in players to perform it under my direction. I make these worship songs exactly the same way — only now my session musicians are AI. I’m still the one writing, producing, and directing every part until it sounds like what I hear inside. I master each one at 528 Hz, a tuning I love for the way it seems, to me, to reach the soul a little faster.
Then I give them to the Church, free.