Someday I’d like to ride one of those old school bicycles, with a large front wheel and a teeny-tiny rear wheel.
Apparently, they’re called penny-farthings. Live ‘n learn.
I’ve tried riding a little bike. It was extremely difficult because my knees kept on hitting my jaw. Hysterical giggling didn’t help either.
Anyway, all is well in the magical kingdom of picnicarea. Road trip music of 1880s: SUNNY RIVERSIDE BANJO RUN.
I’ve had this dream for like, a really long time: Compose a piece that is also a palindrome.
It has been done before at least by several (mostly) 20th century classical composers. Second Viennese School, man.
NOT WHITE KEYS started as an attempt for an electro-palindrome. I think I had three minutes or so of music (the middle part was missing) when I realised that the tune sounded awful. The structure was there but the music was garbage.
After this unfortunate turn of events it was goodbye palindrome and welcome a proper tune that sounds good.
But the dream is not dead. In fact, if I’ve completed the song in it’s palindromic form, the dream would’ve been gone.
How smart of me.
What on earth is going on AT THE MINISTRY OF NONSENSE?
I imagine it’s a huge hall filled with office dividers. Map is required to navigate there. Some poor things without one have got lost and perished.
Coffee infused people in matching uniforms squirrel around mindlessly. They carry piles of paper, plastic tubes and print rolls. They have pencils in their shirt pockets and staplers in their holsters.
They all are very determined to get somewhere, although every now and then they get confused, and continue rushing for a random direction.
Inevitably people bump into each other. This leads to heated discussions and occasionally fights break out.
This seemingly insane scene only start to make any sense once you’re able to observe it 100 meters above the ground level. The whole hall seems to be a gigantic Rube Goldberg machine, which only purpose is to deliver a single piece of paper across the hall.
Once the paper reaches it’s destination, it’s all torn and covered in coffee and blood, making reading it almost impossible.
This is also how I pretty much imagine every normal ministries work.
What we’ve got here is failure to make a simple, straightforward rock song. Because you know, why build small when less is less and more is more and quoth the raven “Nevermore.”
I could have easily spent 5-12 days more making this tune. Progressive rock starts at 8 minutes. Unfortunately there’s this thing called time, which doesn’t have a pause button.
My solution was to include two more words in the songs title: SHAMELESS PART ONE.
The name of the song of the week is SCRATCH THAT ITCH, and that’s about all I have to say about that.
In my notes, in the miscellaneous section was a word, “necremoticon”.
What did I do?
I made NECREMOTICON.
Almost too funny.
Today I felt like recording some acoustic guitar.
“Maybe a two guitar piece, the second one playing with capo on 7th fret? Maybe some weird tuning, one I’ve never used before?”
And then the construction workers started drilling concrete on my backyard. The noise was unbearable, telling me: “No, you don’t record acoustic instruments today.”
Luckily I had recorded PASSABLE TIMES TOLERABLE TIMES a few weeks prior. So there you go, some acoustic guitar for ye.
Would you commission a person who’ve danced maybe three times in his life to produce you a dance music tune?
Yeah, I might be a fool, but certainly not a dancing one.
In my defence I have to say that I’ve made 300+ compositions in my life. That number being a very rough estimation.
So, I guess you could say that yes, despite my inability and reluctance to dance, you can commission me to produce dance music but not to choreograph a dance.
Let’s make it official: I do not make dance choreographies!
But I did produce SLAP.
If a piece is titled CARROTBRAID EVERSMILE, can you expect it to be anything else than oh so happy background pop?
Well I suppose it can be opposite humour and contain some horrible death metal.
And it is!
There’s only a handful of guitar players of who you can say that there’s before and after him/her. Or I guess you can say it about anyone, but that’d be just silly.
Anyway, there’s definately before and after Jimi Hendrix. And I’m sure that most of you out there agree. That “hendrisque” style of playing is just as relevant today as it was fifty years ago. And difficult.
Plus, hendrisque is a nice sounding word. Like pythonesque or dalisque.
Anyway 2, NEVER RUNNING W is konganesque interpretation of hendrisque guitar playing.