This isn't a particularly good song, so I recommend you don't listen if you like music. Which you do. Pay no attention to all my shitty lyrics peppering your music page, now, if you please.
just a quote - link is in the comment.
This is a short, NSFW song about an aggravating place. It was thrown together in a two-hour burst of creative intoxication this afternoon, though most of the lyrics have been bumbling around in my head for the past few weeks.
A little something my girl and I put together.
My wife accidentally broke a vase. This song resulted. It was recorded in a couple of days inbetween other projects. I used no clicktrack, metronome or drum beat, so the timing is nice and loose (in a good way, I hope). It's short, so listen twice!
21st century Brazilian Forró.
The weekend before last found me hanging out with my special lady friend in the historic district of New Bedford, MA. Now, New Bedford is really a rather depressing place, being one of the eastern cities that has outlived its major industry, but one lovely thing we did get to see was the Seamen's Bethel, the church in which Moby Dick's famous Father Mapple sermon was delivered. Oh, and I promise never to attempt to rap again. (And it's NSFW)
This thread reminded me that I wanted to cover this horrible, awful song. One of a series of vile covers I've been planning. For my own amusement and hastily thrown together. Don't worry -- I only went as far as the first chorus.
While listening to the final mixdown of this song, which is about my search for a place to which to move at the end of the month, I received a phone call from someone looking for a roommate. Coincidence! And, yes, I am playing glasses with varying amounts of water in them.
CollaborationFilter: I had this song I could never considered finished because it sounded dreadful in my voice. Then I discovered Metafilter Music and here I discovered chococat. Like pretty much everyone else who heard his music, I was blown away. And so I asked him if he would help me out with the song. Cool guy he is, he did. And this is the result.
If I can teach myself how to use AutoCad by Wednesday, I will be employed. If not, the search must continue.
Small song I did for a weekly TV show in Venezuela.
So, anyway, this song is based on a quote in this article. Twas made in the past hour and a half, upon the inspiration of cortex's breaking-news-story related songs. And it's short as hell. Which is somewhat oxymoronical, depending on your viewpoint of such things.
So, at the time of the creation of this brief song, I was trying to force myself to write a song a week. Searching for something about which to sing, I stumbled across the Myspace profile of someone who looked an awful lot like someone I used to know. That's the basic gist of it, really. Twas submitted for the MeFi Compilation album, but, alas, I could do little to remove the hiss.
So, this is how I've spent the afternoon. Constructing a cover of what is, in my opinion, the greatest video game theme ever composed. For your enjoyment. Yes, I know it falls apart a little, in some places. But that's because it's a cappella. And it's a cappella because it would have taken much longer to make were I to have used instruments. Oh! And I'm exhausted. And it seemed like a good idea at the time. Enjoy!
A week or so ago I embarked upon a thorough kitchen cleaning in a seemingly failed attempt to dissuade the cockroaches from continuing to live in it. Without paying rent. Whatever I used to clean the wooden cabinets, and I don't quite recall what it was, was also, I discovered, removing the varnish as well. And that is what this song is about. And it's (almost entirely) a capella.
Exhausted, on an all-too-brief lunchbreak this past Friday, I was smoking a cigarette, watching an ant cart around a dragonfly corpse. And I thought, "Damn. It's a good thing they aren't big enough to carry cigarettes. And that they don't smoke."
Have the robots become sentient? What will all the robots think when they watch us humans go through our daily lives? Will they know I was very drunk, alone in my band's creepy practice space? Will they still like me?
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