La résistance has ended and I finally decided to get my butt to the 21st century and join facebook. One big meh for mankind, one huge leap for me.
They say that FB is passé. I don’t know about that. In fact I don’t even know what the heck am I going to do there. Clickety-clack I guess.
You do what you wish with that blue square. Like, hate, ignore, it’s up to you.
Ms. X listens a song, and thinks that it’s terribly sad & desperate. Mr. Y listens the same song, and afterwards thinks that it’s going to be all right.
Colonel Hazel notices a song playing in the lobby of a government office building and makes a few discreet dance moves, while the same song annoys the heck out of Dr. Cashew in the airport lounge bar.
That’s pretty much the fun in music. We all hear stuff in our own way. Poison for one, cure for another.
I’d guess that todays song can be heard as a soundtrack for a sci-fi movie suspence scene. You know, weird sunglasses, ray guns, hacking and perhaps a hovercar chase.
Anyhow, while making it, I did have something else in mind.
My condolences to anyone who have MIGRAINE.
Some more of the stuff I like to call historical goodness.
ORGAN WERK OPUS 76 IN D MINOR is baroque era organ music, in the spirit of dudes like Bach & Buxtehude.
Have you noticed how the music in most movie trailers is astoundingly homogenic? The same song playing over and over again.
Yes I know, that kind of music is not meant to be in your face. It’s there just to deepen the visual experience, help set the mood and ultimately sell the initial product, in this case the movie.
IMBONE is such music, specially suitable for an action / adventure / thriller kind of environment.
Monday morning. Day off because of the easter. Not a terrible rush to get out of the bed. Coffee smells nice. Sun shining in through the curtains. Take a peek outside. Shiny indeed. Coffee’s ready, smells even nicer. Fill the cup & add some milk. Strech arms up in the air, doesn’t hurt at all. Take a zip of the coffee, tastes sooo good. Read the news… Hey, there seems to be a newly found hole in my right sock.
That’s some monday morning realism for you. Imperfect, but still pretty darn good. Like THE COMFORT OF WABI-SABI.