Talking Heads - (Nothing But) Flowers
I’ve decided to only make the world’s best music
the reviews are in and the critics can’t figure this one out
For anyone curious what’s going on with Ridin’, it’s basically a culmination of all my studies and theorizing as a musician, a lot of which longtime followers will have already heard from me.
To summarize: My theory of music is that we identify good music as that which balances between meeting our expectations and defying them. Music which combines blandness with outlandishness. Because everyone’s musical experiences are different, so too are their expectations, and so too is their taste in music.
Ridin’ is a train wreck of stupidly simple and catchy components (simple tuneful melody, octave bassline, uncomplicated synth patches) combined with ridiculous things most people wouldn’t consider familiar musical tools (bass-boosted lead synth, the track completely falling apart at a certain point until it hits the catchy refrain again, sparsely arranged verses with frankly mediocre synth work). In other words, it’s hand-crafted to be amazing.
Of course, it’s never that simple in a craft with as many moving parts as music. Even things as simple as whether you’re more or less acquainted with these particular drum sounds than I am can impact whether you like my music, because I’m using them as a moderately familiar tool - if they’re new to you or you’re already tired of them, they may not fit the role I wanted them to play in the track. The same goes for every other component of the song, really. But this is a proof of concept, and I’m proud of it. I hope you all like it <3
former Unicorns/Arcade Fire members. in my opinion, much better than the other Unicorns spin-off, Islands
Clues - Cave Mouth
in waking one man struggles
in sleep the other girls love
in dreams they fight as though
the both of them are one
Islands - In The Rushes
A little closer in the rushes, hiding down among the reeds was a seed. I swallowed, it digested quick but not enough to not make me sick. I lost it. it tasted like a light going off inside my mind, then suddenly I was out of harm’s way, forgetting the desire to remember.
The capillaries of the community
Are hemorrhaging on everything
when the low, heavy sky weighs like a lid on the spirit aching for the light, and when, embracing the horizon, it pours on us a black day which is sadder than any night
when the earth is turned into a dripping dungeon in which hope, like a bat, flutters blindly and bruises its timid wing and tender head against the walls and rotted ceilings
when the rain, stretching down its long streaks of water, imitates the bars of an enormous prison, and a silent throng of loathsome spiders come and weave their webs inside our brains
then suddenly the bells swing angrily and hurl their hideous uproar into the sky like a band of wandering spirits who wail relentlessly
and long hearses, without drums or music, move in a slow procession through my soul, and defeated hope bursts into tears, and the fierce tyrant anguish sets his black banner on my bowed head
this is my jam