I can't have babies
Happy thursday everyone. At the moment, I am recording the Shallow Hearts, with a selection of songs on acoustic guitar and piano. It's sounding very pretty at the moment, Goodnight only needs Matt's last few vocals and the acoustic guitar, Im trying to make these sound a bit impressive, sonically, with panning and whatnot.
My arms are like strata, crisscrossed with tiny little documents that take down the minutes of every little crisis.
I myself have little in the pipeline, except for the nearly complete Rhapsodie Orguilleuse.
I want to gig badly. However it seems I'm being boycotted by every venue in the land, or at least ignored. The fucking modules really interrupted my flow. Fuck shit wank piss bollocks.
I keep dreaming of blowing my head off.
I haven't had a decent drink in ages. This weekend might change that. I also plan to start writing more exciting music. Eventually, I want to be taking to the stage with a guitar, a mandolin, a synth, a whole bunch of effects, and a drum machine, and take it from there. Perform rock and electronica and jazz, alone, not a quiet melancholy singer songwriter, someone radical and hopefully exciting....
Like fuck that's going to happen. However if I record again this year, it'll be more like a cross between Property of Famagusta City Council and the Wyndham EPs....
Are we being lauded yet?
Enough music gabbling. I'm a solitary git really. I'm very very good at convincing meself I like it that way though. I got more sleep than Ive had in a week last night and I feel the worse for it.
I'm really a very sick puppy. Daggers and razors, forceps and red hot pokers, teasing at my flesh, making me squirm like a small animal, bound and gagged, and filmed for some obscure fetish website.
Most of the hits come from IPs in Iowa, surprisingly.
It's a gesture, nothing much in it for me, I'm not into 'any of that'
Here's to a drunkenly fun funeral wake.......
My arms are like strata, crisscrossed with tiny little documents that take down the minutes of every little crisis.
I myself have little in the pipeline, except for the nearly complete Rhapsodie Orguilleuse.
I want to gig badly. However it seems I'm being boycotted by every venue in the land, or at least ignored. The fucking modules really interrupted my flow. Fuck shit wank piss bollocks.
I keep dreaming of blowing my head off.
I haven't had a decent drink in ages. This weekend might change that. I also plan to start writing more exciting music. Eventually, I want to be taking to the stage with a guitar, a mandolin, a synth, a whole bunch of effects, and a drum machine, and take it from there. Perform rock and electronica and jazz, alone, not a quiet melancholy singer songwriter, someone radical and hopefully exciting....
Like fuck that's going to happen. However if I record again this year, it'll be more like a cross between Property of Famagusta City Council and the Wyndham EPs....
Are we being lauded yet?
Enough music gabbling. I'm a solitary git really. I'm very very good at convincing meself I like it that way though. I got more sleep than Ive had in a week last night and I feel the worse for it.
I'm really a very sick puppy. Daggers and razors, forceps and red hot pokers, teasing at my flesh, making me squirm like a small animal, bound and gagged, and filmed for some obscure fetish website.
Most of the hits come from IPs in Iowa, surprisingly.
It's a gesture, nothing much in it for me, I'm not into 'any of that'
Here's to a drunkenly fun funeral wake.......