Urban birds update.

In a way terms of endearment are like open heart surgery – it’s instructive to read about it, but really awkward to witness.

Double awkwardness & pain for a serious heart condition + diminutive, like “Achy Breaky Heart”. If you know what I mean…

I thought the term “dove” to be of Russian origin, because it’s so frequently used in Dostoevsky’s “Humiliated and Insulted”, but apparently it’s mostly English & French term. You heard this from a non-expert of classic European literature.

Anyways, FLY MY SWEET LITTLE DOVE is not meant to be taken literally.

By the way, the term “toots” which Donald often uses when talking to Daisy, is translated in Finnish as “pulu” (=pigeon).

Although I love Duck comics, “Fly My Sweet Little Domecticated Pigeon” just wouldn’t sound good.


What we’ve got here is failure of robotic specimen to function the way it is expected to. Getting up & running after a recharge is much slower than it’s supposed to.

Hey, it’s like the “The Afternoon of a Fauns” metallic version, “The Morning After of an Android”.

Or it could just be the heat.

Fake news told me that table fans are sold out in this continent. And apparently so is reasonably priced mineral water. Dang you greedy people with your need to drink, who got to the corner store earlier than me!

By the way, the chords in SLOW MOTION are drizzle, not torrential as usual.

From the vault.

Hand written crumpled note with a tea stain on it:

– Eclectic start & instruments
– Filthy saxophone
-> morphs into distorted guitar
– Drum loop coontdmism gnö…

The rest is incomprehensible.

You thought doctors’ handwriting is bad? Try reading hieroglyphs written in the dark by a tormented artist who’s clearly half asleep.

Summer storytime.

It seems it’s summer. And with summer comes the news headlines, such as: “Hey look, it’s warm and bright, and us editors think that you should spend much more time outside than you’d do, if the weather would be less bright & sunny.”

There’s also saturday morning reports like: “Disaster strikes in Yourburg; It’s not very warm at all! You better grab your sou’westers, folks.”

Yes, us humans possess this weird habit of continually stating and repeating the obvious, in this case the weather. But why do we also need professionals to make sure we absolutely positively get this?

By professionals I of course mean janitors.

“Breaking news!!! English pop group Fink Ployd is not going to reform! There hasn’t been any talks between the surviving members of the group and there hasn’t ever been any indication that the group would reform. Bands fictional representative didn’t comment anything for the reporter who wasn’t on the case.” (- N.T.A.T.)


Quote from a Dane.

When it comes to making humble musical notes, I am very much of a pen & paper kind of a guy. It’s easy, fast, perfect.

However, it’s pretty rare that I produce music that’s completely ready on paper.

IT’S ALL BUT A DREAM is an exception because it was written as a guitar picking étude for my pupils. It sounded so nice during a class that I thought why not record it.

So there you go. Maybe a bit more musical ambience than normally, but hey. Music’s sometimes fun. Amirite?

1 + 1 …

First we had Nomado Futuro.

Now we’ve got EL GRUNGO PASTO.

So, the next one could be Pastoral Presente?

After that, we can call our little trilogy, well, a trilogy, and call it a day. Or we could do some serious universe bending to acceess a place beyond time.

Sounds like a job for the Composer Man, advocate of literacy, defender of pandiatonicism!

Abbrevation of abbrevation.

There’s an old saying that goes: If it smells like medieval music and if it tastes like medieval music, it’s probably medieval music.

So, BALLA ARD is medieval music, abbreviation medmu.

If on the one hand we got dirty & poor peasant kind of medmu, and on the other kings & queens & infinite power kind of medmu, I’d say our tune is somewhere in between.

Maybe a town fair with peddlers and pigs and turnips and all, where everyone’s invited. How nice!

My favourite word of today: Medmu!

Bread covered with maple syrup & nonpareils.

There are chord progressions that I consciously try to avoid. You know the most obvious ones.

Why exactly?

Now that I think about it, there are reasons, but they’re really hard to explain. It has something to do with “just not wanting to settle for the most obvious result” and so on.

Jeez, that sounded stupid, Dr. Obvious.

Hmm, gotta think about this. After all, pop music often seems to play it safe.

Ok, ok, getting to the point: FADING TOUCH indeed plays it safe. Slight googling informed me that the chord progression in question is called “50s progression”.

Cast an eyeball, daddy-o!

Royal rock.

“Oh good. Again he has taken an idiom, altered it and slapped it on a piece of music as an label. So very clever.”

Yeah, that’s what I do.

“People who play with words are like undisciplined kids who put coins on railroad tracks.”

Absolutely. Although squishing words doesn’t interest me a helluva lot. I like to throw them into the air and get them back all shapeshifted. Fun stuff.

On the other hand, getting FEATHERS IN YOUR CROWN is pretty grim business. Also it’s good balance for last weeks cotton candy and next weeks bread.

Bread covered with maple syrup & nonpareils.