Summer is here! Sun is shining, super-yay, Al Pacino saying hip hooray.
(Or more like “Hip, hip, whoo ah!”)
What I’m gonna do is:
– Wake up screaming: Gooooooolll!
– Watch 7½ football matches, 3 live, the rest reruns from the 60’s and 70’s
– Try to get some sleep, while WAITING FOR THE MORNING
Repeat.
Good times!
TANGIBLE starts off with my favourite chord, and that just may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.
Anyway, the chord is minor 9, that also features a rare instance of b9 – the nastiest of all intervals – inside the chord, in a manner, that makes it sound not-so-nasty-at-all!
Yeah.
The tune is trip-hop, I guess. It’s pretty neat.
Hey yeah. Let me present ye something we didn’t have at all: COOL DOG HOP. It’s rock ‘n roll. Not rock and/or roll, nor “rock ‘n roll”.
It’s pure & innocent historical music, 50’s style. (With slightly more straight-forward rhythm.)
That’s one tune less in my ToDo-list. Now there’s only 345 entries.
Hold on… I just received more information in my ear monitor… There is 346 entries in my ToDo-list… Hang on… the voice says 347… No, 349…
Correction: Plants.
Apparently FOXTAIL is natures own spore dispenser machine.
Fascinating.
Also, interesting is how Mr. Google gives me very different image search results when I type “fox tail”, instead of “foxtail.
Confusion involving compound words, man. They sneak their way into english.
Shoo!
… this one goes to the electronic music sub-category of “Traditional Synthesizer-Dream/Nightmare, which ever you prefer”.
Adding these complex (and intentionally bad, in a humoristic way) descriptions, would be winning a battle, but losing the war.
You could say, that I’m gearing towards the absolute music naming policy, of using only numbers.
Hmm… Or how about naming music only with punctuation marks?
Imagine a rough & tough rock tune called \(+)/
Cute little folk ballad with a flute that’s titled ¤{,
Percussion oriented, cheesy trailer-bait piece titled _$–>
I like it!
… and meanings & the whole context. The whole culture of communication, if you will!
Here’s the deal, BENEVOLENT AND THE BRUTE is todays tune and it’s supposed to be “cinematic”, although I very much dislike the term, that seems to be the substance, causing my heartburn.
“Cinematic” does not tell you a dang thing! It’s a broken umbrella term, that let’s the rain creep in, as I try to think out time.
More suitable term to describe our tune there would be something like: “Massive burst of metaphysical instruments, going mezzopiano, then forte and then piano, indicating great drama”.
“Cinematic” is not the only word I’m complaning here. For instance…
What started as a stupid guitar chord structure, little by little became, well… BESAME UN POCO.
(And when I say stupid, I mean a chord thingy where you barely move your fingers, and the result makes absolutely no sense… The kind of a thing you play on a sofa, when you’re really tired, and don’t really care what’s coming out of your instrument.)
About the title: I like it! There’s no need to always go full slurp mode, like it’s more famous counterpart.
Sometimes lots of smaller ones are more.
Presente: BIG DRIFTY. It’s jazz.
Or not. It really is retroscapist rock-jazz fusion, standing on the halfway line between sweaty blues & robot farts.
There’s the band. With instruments & all.
Drum track contains more dots than my shirt, and way more Onyxia should’ve had on.
Synthesizer goes squeak & bass is boring.
There’s also a guitar. Or several if you count in all the octaves & bits of delay.
That’s it. It’s jazz. Jazz that.
So, a while ago I had a bad week.
You know, cutlery escaping my grasp, making violent sound when they hit the floor. Really bad weather, causing commuter train to stop for 40 minutes on an exit, that’s one before my destination. General trouble with humans, small animals & aliens.
And most of all, terrible football results.
Then I decided, I think it was already thursday, that I’m done with this week, and lo and behold, NO MORE BAD WEEK.
I also turned thursday to friday, which helped.
This here is the kind of post, that usually starts with me saying: “I’m not an expert on (add variable), but…”.
… There doesn’t seem to be any workaround, so here we go again:
“Ahem. As you may have guessed, I’m not an expert on Slavic folk music. However, I dare to say, that this time I’m much less of a complete dimwit, compared to when I’ve been messing with, let’s say Polynesian or Malian music.”
Why is that?
Simple matter of geography and cultural leakage.
This ain’t no Down by the River… or it is… DOWN BY THE DNEPR, to be exact.