“A Car Alarm in A Summer Rainstorm”

This is a new sketch and musical idea I’ve been fiddling with.  I’m beginning to realize the power of Logic for writing out musical ideas and quickly putting together little songwriting arrangements.  The lyrics are as follows:

A Car Alarm in a Summer Rainstorm

I am your last resort
I am your backup plan

I am the asphalt singing at your little hands

Don’t Don’t Don’t Don’t Call Don’t Write,
Don’t apologize or posterize on what could be
Please Please Please Please just close your eyes and think of me
But baby please do it silently

You are my heavy sigh
You are my melancholy

You are that chain link fence along an open prairie

you’re not my moon, you’re not my sun, you’re not my star, anymore
you’re not the wind, you’re not the clouds, you are a car alarm in a summer rainstorm

Known Associates

“A Song I’ve Yet to Learn”

It’s been a while since I’ve posted to this website, but I have indeed been busy with life, as well as the art that comes out of it.

Personally speaking, it’s been a crazy last year for me, as I’ve moved to Minneapolis and really started to find my place as a musician, artist, employable entity, and person.  Sketching has been an important part of that, as it allows me to disconnect from my brain for a little while and let my thoughts freely associate on the page.  I realize that art and music will always play a key role in my life, as the process of creating and performing keeps my head level.  From what I gather, having a level head is one of those things that can help you both personally and professionally.

I’ve been blessed by family and friends within the last year, and to all the people who have helped me grow creatively and otherwise, I offer you a hearty thank-you.  Thanks to all the friends who convinced me to keep playing music when I was frustrated with it.  Thanks to all the folks who convinced me that I am indeed a “real artist.”  You know who you are, thank-you.

This track and this image are both fairly recent creations.  As some may know, I recently visited my Uncle Joey down in North Carolina.  Sadly for his family and his friends, he has passed on to the next life.   That said, I am incredibly happy for him.  He’s moved on to a world without pain, and has a realized mind, body, and spirit.  I like to think that him and Gil Scott left this world around the same time because they secretly have started a band that we can only dream about.

Getting to see Joey before he left was an incredible blessing for me.  His encouragement and perspective keeps me wanting to create and live life joyously every day.  I wrote this particular song while I was down there visiting him.  Joey’s wife, kids, and grandkid (all fantastic people, I will note.  Emphatically.) were hanging out in the kitchen chatting about what we thought heaven was gonna be like.  It got me to think about what my current experiences might look like from outside the perspective of time.

I began to think the things I believe are heartbreaking are simply a blessing considering each moment is a gift.  I began to think that each person I’ve known is a shadow of what they will be.  I began to envision these people when every moment becomes unglued and fuses with eternity.  I began to think that Joey was the lucky one.

I wrote this song right before I went to bed that night.

The last time I got to talk with Joey, we chatted about everything from music, to image, to how to live life without being an idiot.  In between gaffs, jokes, and other things that made me smile, Joey slipped in a tiny bit of wisdom, saying “I know why people want to die; It’s because they’ve lost interest in being human.”

Those remaining on this earth are human through each passing day.  But someday, like Joey, we will lose interest.  We will move on.  We will become realized.  Each moment of love we have experienced here on earth will seem like it was just a whisper of a song with no beginning or end.

I smile every time I think of Joey sitting down behind the trap set in a world beyond my comprehension.  I’ll miss Joey, and I know I’m not the only one.  We remain in the shadows, with our thoughts of Joey and others being a tiny connection to the nirvana in which they live.  I don’t know what that will look or sound like.  With my finite mind, I can only imagine.

However, I do know this: When the stick first hits the snare during the opus of heaven, Joey will be giving ‘em hell.

And Now We Test Our Powers of Relaxation

The Wind at Our Backs and Your Hand in Mine

She Rolls Alone

Here’s a new piece I did a couple of days ago.  It’s based on a sample off the Harry Belafonte record “My Lord What a Mornin’.”  The song is Buked and Scorned, and the full record is a collection of spirituals sung in Harry’s signature buttery tone.

At first this sample gave me a bit of a run for my money, as it was mostly choral based, and didn’t offer much in terms of funk intrinsically.  But through the magic of Logic, the creation of a sampler from a choir sample, and the assistance of my new telecaster and gritz and vinegar old Jazz bass, I was able to come up with something that I can nod my head to.  Enjoy!

I’ve taken a bit of time off from my sample based composition to work on my Logic certification, but tonight, I decided to take a bunch of the stuff I’ve learned from the stuffy certification book and actually apply it to something creatively.  I chopped up a sample from a Nikolas Rimsky-Korsakov piece called “Scheherazade.”  (All the samples are from the first movement.)  The challenge was to make a slow grinding beat, and add touches of automation that keep it moving.  I loved the flute samples, and it was fun to add a sleigh bell underneath it.

As for the title: Every year around this time in Minnesota, the wind picks up and the winter takes a turn from almost charming to completely miserable.  I wonder why I live here sometimes, and sometimes is generally between the months of January and March.  I’ve heard a lot of arguments saying that it’s the cold Minnesota winters that give this place such a healthy art scene (and I’ve made them as well), but I doubt you would be able to find a single artist that wouldn’t trade in all the dark thinking time for a warmer climate right about now.  The winters can be cruel, and this one has been relentless.

“In Our Parent’s Tounges”

I haven’t updated in a while, but I figured I should get on my game and get back to publishing some of my art and music.  This piece makes me laugh a little bit now, as it was done during a time when I was feeling lonely.  Ironically, no more than 3 months later I was drawing a picture that said, “Right Now He Really Loves Being Alone.”  Sheesh.  Finding some balance between alone and not alone could be good for me.

The tune is actually a little older, but I thought the two worked well together, and I haven’t published it before.  I convinced my friend Mick to come over and play pedal steel on this one, and I was really happy with the results.  It’s a country tune and I think Mick gave it a heck of a vibe.  Here’s the lyrics:

Your mama always had a real strong face, got a real strong case for a woman’s place
And papa always knew the things to say around her

Your sister never had a thing to say, but said it anyway,

You never wanted anything to do with her

But now you’re singing with your mama’s tounge
And now you’re sighing in your daddy’s lungs
And sister doesn’t know a thing about love but she’s gotta a good man to love her

And you’re all alone

My daddy always had a real strong voice, and his words were  choice, and his spit was moist

And mama always knew the things to say around him

My sister always knew what not to do, and just how not to move

I always wanted to be just as good her

But now I’m screaming in my daddy’s tounge
And now I’m sighing in my mama’s lungs
And sister knows her way around a true love and she’s gotta good man to love her

I don’t know if I can rise about, the things that I’ve come from, and teach myself to trust
I know I’m never gonna be the man for you

You never really understood the grace of a woman’s place
You never noticed how I really cared for you

But now we’re singing in our parent’s tounges
And now we’re boxing with our broken gloves
You always thought that you were treated injust, as I only just tried to love you
Now we’re all alone

Here’s another song based on a Mahalia Jackson sample.  You really can’t go wrong with Mahalia Jackson.  I experimented with some radio sounds, easing in and out of some weird background sounds.  I’ve come back to adding upright bass to alot of my beats, it has a complicated sonorous sound, even if I’m not the best upright player.