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At Amanda's asking, I'll augment this neglected blog.
I have 15 minutes to write. It's the only way I'll get anything done: time is my enemy. My inner critic starts to stir at minute 10. By minute 16, he's fully awake and barking commands at my fingers: no not this. That! That! NO!
(Stirring noise in the corner)
I don't see the point in adding my songs to the polluted landscape of music that saturates the world. Polluted is a good word. It's like an emotional toxic spill (Adulus Huxley said something along these lines about radio when it first emerged). Toxic because when carefully examined, what I hear is non-sense. But don't take my word for it. Listen to Beyonce's "Halo". I considered covering it and when I listened carefully to the lyrics I couldn't find anything to sing- no emotional arc. Technically skilled vocalist, convincing actress on the set of Baywatch. I can see your Halo? Good Christ.
So I'm indulgent. I take my time, not needing to rush into releasing anything into the world. I take my time to poo-poo and guffaw. I take my time to admire and revel. (I am humbled by remarkable songwriters as well). I absorb, I spit out, I whip myself, I whip others. It's all quite exhausting in my little life with my dog, full time job and A C or 1 train to Columbus Circle. But...BUT...I take my time.
It's economically unsound to take one's time. It's an anti-capitalistic. People lose interest, I lose interest, I grow out of my fan-boy age, I become less-HIP (if I ever was hip), harder to photograph, my website falls into neglect and disarray, as does my blog. Do these things really even matter? Perhaps if you seek widespread attention, massive irrational adulation, followed by increased record sales, you'd find import in the list of the above. At one time, I think I thought all that was important too.
(Sniffing breathing Critic in the corner is curious now, coming to look over my shoulder)
Of my music now, I want to convey meaning: in both the words, structure, performance, arrangement, everything. This takes time...and focus. Focus is hard to sustain between dog walks and days earning an earnest living. But David, Why Not Earn an Earnest Living from your MUSIC??? Sure, I'm a capitalist. But a lazy one at that. At the end of the day, the money Bon Jovi earned for their cultural contributions can buy them nice coffins. Meaning is hard to turn into commerce. And turning Meaning into commerce can have a peculiar way of siphoning off it's relevance and depth. Like lowfat milk.
Critic is awake now and wants to go for a run. So be it.
I have 15 minutes to write. It's the only way I'll get anything done: time is my enemy. My inner critic starts to stir at minute 10. By minute 16, he's fully awake and barking commands at my fingers: no not this. That! That! NO!
(Stirring noise in the corner)
I don't see the point in adding my songs to the polluted landscape of music that saturates the world. Polluted is a good word. It's like an emotional toxic spill (Adulus Huxley said something along these lines about radio when it first emerged). Toxic because when carefully examined, what I hear is non-sense. But don't take my word for it. Listen to Beyonce's "Halo". I considered covering it and when I listened carefully to the lyrics I couldn't find anything to sing- no emotional arc. Technically skilled vocalist, convincing actress on the set of Baywatch. I can see your Halo? Good Christ.
So I'm indulgent. I take my time, not needing to rush into releasing anything into the world. I take my time to poo-poo and guffaw. I take my time to admire and revel. (I am humbled by remarkable songwriters as well). I absorb, I spit out, I whip myself, I whip others. It's all quite exhausting in my little life with my dog, full time job and A C or 1 train to Columbus Circle. But...BUT...I take my time.
It's economically unsound to take one's time. It's an anti-capitalistic. People lose interest, I lose interest, I grow out of my fan-boy age, I become less-HIP (if I ever was hip), harder to photograph, my website falls into neglect and disarray, as does my blog. Do these things really even matter? Perhaps if you seek widespread attention, massive irrational adulation, followed by increased record sales, you'd find import in the list of the above. At one time, I think I thought all that was important too.
(Sniffing breathing Critic in the corner is curious now, coming to look over my shoulder)
Of my music now, I want to convey meaning: in both the words, structure, performance, arrangement, everything. This takes time...and focus. Focus is hard to sustain between dog walks and days earning an earnest living. But David, Why Not Earn an Earnest Living from your MUSIC??? Sure, I'm a capitalist. But a lazy one at that. At the end of the day, the money Bon Jovi earned for their cultural contributions can buy them nice coffins. Meaning is hard to turn into commerce. And turning Meaning into commerce can have a peculiar way of siphoning off it's relevance and depth. Like lowfat milk.
Critic is awake now and wants to go for a run. So be it.
I'm glad to see your still writing you've always been good at that. Bullshitting the person who you really are is really an art form. Since i met you that was always your best quality. I do so love your music... just like i adore movies.... it's such a beautiful false reality that I always dreamed was real. That's why i know you could've been big, the world loves lies, takes away from the doom and gloom of whats happening in the world. You must be getting really old now, that fire seems to be going quickly. Write for someone else David, I think you'll find a comfortable living that way... and when that fills you up then perhaps you'll be able to grow up.
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