(I'm the machinist)
The dark surly boatman of the coal age
No raft, or river styx
I ferry souls through untold pain
No toll to pay
No staving off the cold gaze
No oars in my palms
This occupation is my soul's cage
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Back On The Grind
I had my iTunes on random the other day and this ambient track comes on. Sounds good. Sounds familiar. What is this track?
After about ten seconds I realise it's the first track off the album I was working on earlier this year.
I will finish this shit. One way or another it will happen.
After about ten seconds I realise it's the first track off the album I was working on earlier this year.
I will finish this shit. One way or another it will happen.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Precipice (Draft)
Last track off the EP...
One minute you’re sitting there at the dining room table
Looking across at her
And then the next thing you know
You’re listening to her coughing into the toilet bowl from the next room
You hear her cough and shudder
Whimpering
The sound of her lunch slapping against the porcelain
And you’re not wondering what to do
Whether you should help her
Get her a glass of water or hold back her hair
You’re imagining taking her in your arms and beginning frankly
Explaining to her that every moment up until now has been misspent
And how every choice she made, every fucked up corner and drug binge
Was nothing more than a cry for help
And you’re listening
Oh, you’re listening
But now real life begins
And it’s going to involve you guiding her gently
Taking her by the hand
Helping her tip toe across the creek
Tiny feet on tiny stones
Showing her the way
Emptying the house of everything she’s crammed inside
Draining the fluid
And kissing better her wounds
And then you’re thinking back to when you first met
And thinking she should have cuts up and down her arms
Long jagged wounds
Scratches
From when she forced her hands through the glass
How else could she let people know
What other way was there
But her skin is smooth and rich
And you just can’t understand it
You imagine pulling her hair
And slamming her against the wall
Screaming at her
Letting your fists do the talking
(And you know this isn’t going to work)
And you’re thinking about her face
And the way her lips curl around words
The snarl
Savage and ruthless like a dog pulled tight on its chain
The spittle dripping off the tongue
The raw hunger for violence and destruction
And you know that if you go there
If you step inside that hole
You won’t be coming out
You’re going to leave something in there
Something important
And that thing will be lost and you’ll never get it back
If you can even climb out at all
And you hear her coughing and the flush of the toilet
You hear her bare feet padding along the floorboards towards you
You know that she’s coming
You know a lot
So what do you do?
One minute you’re sitting there at the dining room table
Looking across at her
And then the next thing you know
You’re listening to her coughing into the toilet bowl from the next room
You hear her cough and shudder
Whimpering
The sound of her lunch slapping against the porcelain
And you’re not wondering what to do
Whether you should help her
Get her a glass of water or hold back her hair
You’re imagining taking her in your arms and beginning frankly
Explaining to her that every moment up until now has been misspent
And how every choice she made, every fucked up corner and drug binge
Was nothing more than a cry for help
And you’re listening
Oh, you’re listening
But now real life begins
And it’s going to involve you guiding her gently
Taking her by the hand
Helping her tip toe across the creek
Tiny feet on tiny stones
Showing her the way
Emptying the house of everything she’s crammed inside
Draining the fluid
And kissing better her wounds
And then you’re thinking back to when you first met
And thinking she should have cuts up and down her arms
Long jagged wounds
Scratches
From when she forced her hands through the glass
How else could she let people know
What other way was there
But her skin is smooth and rich
And you just can’t understand it
You imagine pulling her hair
And slamming her against the wall
Screaming at her
Letting your fists do the talking
(And you know this isn’t going to work)
And you’re thinking about her face
And the way her lips curl around words
The snarl
Savage and ruthless like a dog pulled tight on its chain
The spittle dripping off the tongue
The raw hunger for violence and destruction
And you know that if you go there
If you step inside that hole
You won’t be coming out
You’re going to leave something in there
Something important
And that thing will be lost and you’ll never get it back
If you can even climb out at all
And you hear her coughing and the flush of the toilet
You hear her bare feet padding along the floorboards towards you
You know that she’s coming
You know a lot
So what do you do?
Introduction ('05-'09)
I've got rough demos of six tracks for my EP. I was planning on making this track the final one, but finally decided to scrap it.
I started this track back in like 2006, without any concrete plan. I think at first it was going to be a collection of quotables, just stuff I had scribbled down and stuck to my wall and shit like that. Started working on it again late last year, sort of reapproaching it as a way of showing where I've been since 2006 when I quit. The idea I had was to make the first verse about how I got started, back when I was called "EOC" and then "Axis" and played with King Armadillo. Then maybe second verse when I caught the glandular. And the final verse as like a re-introduction to the here and now.
I busted my gut for a couple of days but wasn't happy with the results. From the start I didn't know if I was a good idea to include this track with my new work. With all my new stuff, I sort of have a rule when everything has to be a story and I'm not just saying shit to be saying it. I'm not really interested in just talking, and speaking as myself directly anymore. I want each track to be a complete thing with no unecessary shit. I want it to be subtle and not too blatant.
This track isn't like that. It was very blatant. Just me saying shit plainly. And the problem was I couldn't tell if it was any good or just over sentimental.
I listened over to a ton of other tracks I was trying to replicate with this, like "All Things to All Men" by the Cinematic Orchestra, "Cellepram" by Horrorshow, a bunch of tracks talking frankly about depression etc really frankly. I still love those tracks. But I didn't know if I could pull it off.
Finally, I decided to scrap it. I was reworking a dead horse. There's a few lines in here I like, but honestly my heart wasn't in it. All I'm really interested in working in is tracks for my new album. I actually WANT to sit down and write those stories, so why am I busting my balls doing this shit?
So, fuck it, the track will remain unheard. I figured I'd post what I'd got so far since it'll never be recorded. It's a mess, very rough, but hopefully you'll see what I was playing around with.
Chorus:
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Verse Two:
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
(But) Experience tells
The greeting’s not as civil
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
But the words stayed inside
And I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Got the shit in my brain on lock
But couldn’t frame it
Now the fact remains
On the day I was robbed
The only cost
Was in lost serotonin
Verse Three:
And so let me introduce myself
_
A man who took three years
To write like three fucking verses
I lost a dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
But I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But that don’t mean shit
When I’m half man and half depression
(In my) Younger days
(I) Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I had a longer version of that second verse, but I guess I didn't save it.
I also played around with this order, I dunno what's good...
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
Experience tells
The greeting’s not as kind
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
Couldn’t say I meant
So I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Thought I knew it all
But I barely knew a fucking thing
See younger days
Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
So I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But I’ll go one better yo
I’m half man and half depression
And so let me introduce myself
_
But yo what’s in a name
It doesn’t matter anyway
Some things change
But the rest stays the same
Wondering why am I sick
To my stomach each day
I lost my dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Now some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
And I don’t believe
In heaven or hell _
But if you heed the creed
May it serve you well
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I started this track back in like 2006, without any concrete plan. I think at first it was going to be a collection of quotables, just stuff I had scribbled down and stuck to my wall and shit like that. Started working on it again late last year, sort of reapproaching it as a way of showing where I've been since 2006 when I quit. The idea I had was to make the first verse about how I got started, back when I was called "EOC" and then "Axis" and played with King Armadillo. Then maybe second verse when I caught the glandular. And the final verse as like a re-introduction to the here and now.
I busted my gut for a couple of days but wasn't happy with the results. From the start I didn't know if I was a good idea to include this track with my new work. With all my new stuff, I sort of have a rule when everything has to be a story and I'm not just saying shit to be saying it. I'm not really interested in just talking, and speaking as myself directly anymore. I want each track to be a complete thing with no unecessary shit. I want it to be subtle and not too blatant.
This track isn't like that. It was very blatant. Just me saying shit plainly. And the problem was I couldn't tell if it was any good or just over sentimental.
I listened over to a ton of other tracks I was trying to replicate with this, like "All Things to All Men" by the Cinematic Orchestra, "Cellepram" by Horrorshow, a bunch of tracks talking frankly about depression etc really frankly. I still love those tracks. But I didn't know if I could pull it off.
Finally, I decided to scrap it. I was reworking a dead horse. There's a few lines in here I like, but honestly my heart wasn't in it. All I'm really interested in working in is tracks for my new album. I actually WANT to sit down and write those stories, so why am I busting my balls doing this shit?
So, fuck it, the track will remain unheard. I figured I'd post what I'd got so far since it'll never be recorded. It's a mess, very rough, but hopefully you'll see what I was playing around with.
Chorus:
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Verse Two:
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
(But) Experience tells
The greeting’s not as civil
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
But the words stayed inside
And I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Got the shit in my brain on lock
But couldn’t frame it
Now the fact remains
On the day I was robbed
The only cost
Was in lost serotonin
Verse Three:
And so let me introduce myself
_
A man who took three years
To write like three fucking verses
I lost a dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
But I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But that don’t mean shit
When I’m half man and half depression
(In my) Younger days
(I) Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I had a longer version of that second verse, but I guess I didn't save it.
I also played around with this order, I dunno what's good...
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
Experience tells
The greeting’s not as kind
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
Couldn’t say I meant
So I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Thought I knew it all
But I barely knew a fucking thing
See younger days
Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
So I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But I’ll go one better yo
I’m half man and half depression
And so let me introduce myself
_
But yo what’s in a name
It doesn’t matter anyway
Some things change
But the rest stays the same
Wondering why am I sick
To my stomach each day
I lost my dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Now some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
And I don’t believe
In heaven or hell _
But if you heed the creed
May it serve you well
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
Thursday, January 7, 2010
More Teeth
_ As they say (each dog has his day)
Let the ground rise to meet you
The teeth make their mark
But the fear’s going to eat you
Fangs tear through skin
Canines mash your windpipe
Jaws crush the bones
Then clamp down and cling tight
And shake the fucking life out ya
Barely conscious
Conquered by the night
Face pressed against the wet snow
You think the moment’s come
But it ain’t the end yet though
_ He’ll take it slow
You ain’t about to jet so
Hour after hour
And second after second
Teeth snap your ribcage
While death’s (thin) hand beckons
Let the ground rise to meet you
The teeth make their mark
But the fear’s going to eat you
Fangs tear through skin
Canines mash your windpipe
Jaws crush the bones
Then clamp down and cling tight
And shake the fucking life out ya
Barely conscious
Conquered by the night
Face pressed against the wet snow
You think the moment’s come
But it ain’t the end yet though
_ He’ll take it slow
You ain’t about to jet so
Hour after hour
And second after second
Teeth snap your ribcage
While death’s (thin) hand beckons
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