Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Just as Bad

 Ah. I think I figured it out. It happens when the human spirit is repressed. Over a month since the last update.. everything is changing, shifting, forming. Movement growing, expanding, but we need more people here. We need more people on the ground. My relationships with my friends are good right now. I am having some trouble with following plans I made for myself in terms of grad school, but everything is changing, shifting, forming. I honestly don't know what is going to happen and I feel like so much already has that I don't even know where we can go from here. I can hope, I can guess, I can love.. in the end I guess life is how you deal with those tomatoes, you know. At the same time, there is an enormous chance I will completely fuck up my life, consciously. I'm back to "I don't know" again. I don't know. I don't know how this happens, I can't understand how or why shit happens, and I can't decide which method is really working, not for the movement, not for the struggle or the progress, but for me. Why is there a voice inside my head that tells me that life is not going to work out for me? Is it karma for how I dealt with my shit before? I don't know. Complicated situations are just part of me I guess. I just need to find something to live for, and the places I've found for now are the wrong places. They are so tempting and they are so wrong and I've come to that point in my emotional maturity to just not give a fuck sometimes. I pour my heart into too much of everything, I talk too much, and I feel everything. And sometimes, I don't know. I just want to stop.



Friday, September 28, 2012

"I've made a terrible mistake."

There are approximately 17 steps from the entrance of my apartment to the front of my door. This is the amount of time it takes to walk up those 17 steps, in a manner that would become a metaphor in a Camus novel, maybe. It's a pointless drawl, with little to no intention. By the third time around, I am out of breath. I can't control my airstream. It sounds like shit and I'm not happy with it. It's probably the worst thing I've ever published. But I only had 20 minutes to write about 17 steps, 20 minutes before the 18 bus leaves me at the stop. As stubborn as I am, I won't re-record the mistakes. This is it. The first take. The truth. The ugly, naked, honest truth. That I am erred, that everything I write sounds the same, that I don't venture from my comfortable compositional techniques, though I know what I am capable of doing and creating. It is a genuine disrobed falsity. It is me without the mask I'm about to put on before acting the part necessary to survive in this world. It is my artistry with no meaning.

But it is a real feeling, and everything imperfect about it is what makes me human.

I am sorry.

Download:
A Walk Up The Stairs

Thursday, August 30, 2012

O, me patrie!



I love its fragrance of romanticism. It was a favorite the second I heard it, and I will never forget its fragrance. Chopin liked it a lot, too. Something cool happens to your right hand when playing this... it does harmony and melody at the same time. His voice was in his fingers. I always wonder what he would have done if he lived longer, in terms of composing for orchestras. I look at stuff like synth keyboards and am intrigued at how many different voices can be used with a single button. But that's the thing- it's a button. Yes, it's an instrument, but it doesn't have the same effect of a real piano. That's why I like it so much- because you literally have to grasp the sound. And it makes my heart melt.


This guy was birthed to this song. It's a memory I'll always have to myself.


Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Harder = a terrible safeword

you're depressed because you compare yourself to john coltrane
but when did you stop thinking you could be like john coltrane?





here's a little lesson in hard bop:
they didn't call it hard bop because it was harder than be-bop
they called it hard bop because everyone shot a bunch of dope
it was the 1950's
all them cats
art blakey
paul chambers
miles and coltrane
lee morgan, dude who blew trumpet on this track
he played an angled horn on the record
given to him by dizzy
another heroin addict
i mean, what better way to put funk into jazz
other than being inside the jazz?
anyway, lee morgan died too young
his woman took a glock and shot him up on stage
i guess she lived in the music, too

i wonder what he could have possibly done
to have his woman kill him like that.
is it even possible
to separate the murder from the music?

Saturday, March 10, 2012

have you ever tried to write a song and realized it has already been written?

All for freedom and for pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world