This is my best work. Enjoy, read and listen. Thankyou
Songwriting 9/25/2015 Something about a pop song with great lyrics, production and feedback shakes people to the core and becomes a classic spellbinder, or so it is called. Great music no matter what it sounds like, can get the approval it deserves. (all the way from Beethoven to Smegma)
Since I liked those types of songs so much, I started trying to write them. Illustrated below in words are elements, and my process to delivering the song from my mind, down to a tangible, interactive form.
Lyrics
The hardest parts are the lyrics. If the lyrics are not relatable or too general, nobody relates to it. Lyrics generally are a story, a moment or a vibe concerning an event. Coming up with the right style of vocabulary is important. I tend to write momentaric and vibey lyrics. Stories don't play well with me. But when you can't come up with everything, collaborate. Normally, the best lyrics come to me in a state of depression or a low.
Producing
I have always produced myself since the first day I sat in front of a DAW. (digital audio workstation) I get a vision for the song, I work out the basic drum and bass progression and start the guitar work. If the guitars don't fill the space, that's where a rhodes or a hammond kicks in. I play most of my keys with a 2-octave keyboard, and then I don't quantize it. I only edit wrong notes. Even if I get a good take the first few times, I don't stop recording over and over until I get the part playing for the song. A good take does not cut to be in a song. The song has to be felt through the sounds.
Results
My feedback comes from friends and parents. At first, they thought it was interesting because the music wan't that good. 2 years later, they were interested. Now, I release them on soundcloud. I still do not write the best songs, but knowing the process and writing many of them are a big step.
So far, I only described the process of a song being released into a world. How I conceive the songs in my brain would be another subject for a future blog. I find that through these processes, I can vent the stress from all the hate I have about hard things. What comes through in song is what is constant is my mind, and to me, it all is a process. Probably not a nice one.
My future?11/2/2015 The future is a fascinating subject. Many books and films have been written on speculations about the future. However, the future is a dark reality that is based on the past. So when people ask me about my future, I want to say that I have it all ironed out. But that is not true.
I play jazz guitar. I want to say that I am decent. I was confident that I could pursue a career in playing music. That was right until I found out that I have no chance whatsoever to "make it" in the business.
I have no chance to make it in the business because I can't play well enough. I feel that everything that I play is flawed. I also feel that I will never get to be educated in the music because of my high school marks. OSAP is not an option because most music does not pay. So subsequently, I will not be able to pay back the OSAP.
These are all insecurities. These are things I must get over. But I never will. New insecurities will always show up.
Rest. The final chapter.(read with 1st installment) 12/17/2015 It wasn't long before my human element was wearing thin. I started becoming sick. I was about 35. I was having migraines, chest pains, and nightmares of being stuck inside the portal. Then, the doctors came with the news. June 3rd: You have exactly 2 months to live. Not cancer, but an actual being inside me. It was not harmful, but for some odd reason, it was killing me.
Crap. If I fading slowly before; I was the last 500 grains left in the top of the hourglass. L left me, I visited my parents, they cried. Frizzy and Martin were in shock for about 2 weeks. I told the sisters, and as a parting gift, they promised to send me to the moon. (I always fantasized that the moon would be a beautiful place)
I started pushing myself as hard as I can. I completely immersed myself in sound. I pushed myself as if there were 28 hours in a day. I lived, breathed, and abused myself to the point of total burnout.
Then, one fateful day, I died.
As strength started deserting me, I took the portal. But something was different. Life was floating away from me. Just like the dreams where I died. I wasn't scared. It was like I wanted life to end faster. Waiting for the last breath to come closer, cautious as I move into the next phase.
I felt my hands, I felt my skin, all very clear. It was like my body remained, but all the scars, damage and earthly functions were gone. As much as the story is short, it really was short. It was as if my sentence was cut off. With some sense of grief, pain and joy, I gladly sat down on the moon.
I was dead. I saw my funeral at earth. As I thought no one was going to be there, everyone I knew was in shambles. An odd thought occurred. What if they never get to see me? I mean, I could still talk to the nocturnals and the sisters, but I can't talk to any of my friends. I was a little solemn. But all things pass. It felt like wanting to get out of school for so long and then missing being in school.
But all things aside, I was now forever. I was forever accompanied by the stars, sound and my friends, the nocturnals. Never to be seen again by the human eye, but to be in companion of celestial beings.
And now, I write from the edge of the moon, where I can see the snow falling on earth.
The end.1/15/2016 The journey of the FFP project is now coming to an end. Like all good things, there were ups and downs. Mostly downs. Grade 10 is the year I let myself down. All my classes don't feel good. I don't feel good about anything I'm doing. As much as I am artistic, the more that I feel unimportant. I feel inferior to the people who have a mission. I found this with the culminating. While others talk about child obesity, animal cruelty and self worth, I am talking about artistic struggle. It's petty, narcissistic and narrow minded.
Like my theory, I guess my personality is reflected in the work I do.
Things have changed for me, and it's just not okay.
I say, "Maybe this will lead to self-discovery. Maybe this is just a painful process to get to somewhere greater." The only reason why I want a new chance is because I completely lost it inside. I don't have a spark for living like I used to. I don't get the buzz I used to get whenever I pickup music. I got derailed.
I feel this with every assignment, every song and every performance. It's just plain inferior. It's not a thing that just passes me. It's this constant in measuring myself. I have to find X and I have to swing the -16 around the equal sign. I just don't see the point anymore.
What is my self worth defined by? There are no marks in the world, there is only progressive signals. I wish someone could tell me what to do. I wish I didn't have to choose.
Now I'm just looking for a numbing agent. Something to tell me that there can be a better tomorrow. I know the world is going to age as I age. Someday I will become outdated and I will be cast out. My fear: Has it already happened?