I thought long and hard, if I should write about this.
In fact, I have not. I thought I would not, but now I am. So I ignored long and hard, that I want to write about this.
The complete, last September I used, to learn how to record. I used that time to learn how to play the drums, refresh my piano lessons, from when I was ten and learned some basic audio engineering skills. I was never a musician, to this day I would not care to call give me that name. I only played for myself and sung a lot and everywhere. I did not need to know what the funny little numbers at the start of a sheet meant or what “in time” can do for a piece of music. In bands I just sung to what the others threw at me.
In this month that had to change. A grave discovery, that threw over my timetable completely. I have to admit, it was less a table, more a loose combination of planks leaning against one another. Easy to shake and an easy prey for quiver and collapse. I wrote between December of last year and February this year a few songs. Some where old ones, that needed only little adjustment in text or arrangement and some where completely new ones. Now I have a set of about six to seven songs, that are very similar in style, arrangement and chords, for two simple purposes.
The first is to say to a few people, who could understand if they would want to: “Look how fucking genius I am. You think you told me something new? I already knew! I Just longed for confirmation and I got what I wanted.” I can play you like a penny whistle.
I don’t really like to act after my amazingly accurate feelings or notions. This is no lashing out, this is caring for my inner circle.
Now I see how arrogant and presumptuous that is. But fuck me dead, I am all that, my friends and I am all that for our sake.
The second is only for me: I need things to practice on, many things and these are my very own practice songs. If I should ever get drums and a real piano I will use them to practice day and night. I already cured my false posture in g-major and my sloppy thumb with them.
Someone told me once, the Chinese had this vile torture method. They let someone pick his favorite song and play it in a continuous loop, driving the victim insane in the process. Fuck you China. I did this with every one of mine. You have nothing against me. Well except I am kinda susceptible to regular torture.
Back to my songs. They do not bore, or tantalise or make me mad. They are my love and my hate, my destiny and my fate. The are me and here they are:
I could not imagine, what they gifted to me. I put my headphones on, press play and suddenly I am calm and tranquil. My head stops turning. The voices in my head rest for a while. For a short moment in my day they don’t have to sing or shout or talk any more. They now have a voice outside my head and can for fucks sake shut their loud, bitching mouth for once in their otiose and abject existence.
I love every single one of these songs, from the bottom of my heart. Despite the fact, that I hear, where I wanted something more sophisticated in shifts, or a change in rhythm or tempo, but my fingers or hands or arms or head could not keep up with it. The amount of time was sparse and I am no fastidious worker. These are rough sketches of what I want to show and what they already are in mind and imagination. Someday I will show you. I have to! There is still one missing. One that I couldn’t record and it is my favorite. It is the beginning and the end of my story. It is the reason I am. It might take a little while to make that happen sufficiently.
As long as that day has not come. I thank you all for reading my posts and listening to my music from time to time. It gives me a good feeling about myself and what I do. I haven’t had that in a very, very long time.
Thank you for caring and stand upright,
P.S.: Now there is a thunderstorm outside. I will go there and challenge Thor to a shouting duel. Let’s see whose lungs are more capable, puny god!