music….
what is it….
what does it mean to write a song…
the way it all fits together
first there was just a bass guitar
boom boom boom boom boom
it was going
it was pumping eighth notes
nothing very hard
there was a slight anticipation
it was relentless yet a bit sloppy
it sat on its 3 or 4 notes exploring nuances
from out of nowhere white noise appears
its being filtered
it wriggles and pops in time with the bass
snatches of conversation
short wave
pink distortion
movement barely tuned in
the tick tick tick of machine
the drums flail in
bang bang bang bang
electric guitars appear chop chop slam crunch
electric guitars in reverb and echo
like whales wailing
like women weeping
like animals crying
sirens inside a fog
push and push
burn up and disappear
cherish and forget
the instruments work upon each other in synergy
thunder crackles and threatens
electrical disturbance city in the jungle
a piano tinkers on a cavernous emptiness
the bass ominously growls
it swells to mingle with the thunder
the bass swallows itself leaving shards of splintery scrapes
another piano teeters through the background
drunk or falling apart
all sound slows down and elongates
cymbals whistle on into infinity
the piano grows ghostly choirs
things zip past
things in agonizing slowness
all moving towards inevitable silence
that waits at the end of any piece
silence like the songs picture frame
another song begins
another picture in the gallery
a voice sings some words
it doesnt matter what they are
it doesnt matter whose voice it is
everyman sings his own songs
the voice picks up rhythm n assumes a metre
the voice punctuates
it floats over the top
it is apart and a part
voice and music
a marriage of convenience
the voice modulates and drones and intones
the music swells under it and drops away
echoes flurry away and hurry along the grapevine
why does it
why does it do what it does
who decided that it would
it has no meaning only follows internal logic
it does not say what it is
does not announce itself as fact or fiction
the snare fits in the place the kick isnt
the hi hat keeps going regardless
the bass finds the kick
they combine
a melodic punch that hits you in the guts
the voice splits into a pair
something smashes like glass
is this even music
when does music become noise
at what point can noise be called music
the music is processed edited mixed n mastered
a sonic sheen is constructed
the feeling is left intact
the pump of sex
the swoon of drug
the struggle of man
the elation of life
the darkness of death
the possibility of redemption
all inclosed
all enclosed
a fix for a world in pain