Suite Tea, the studio, and me.

Many moons have set and some sun's have risen since the last blog entry. My apologies. Difficult to stay on track, but I suppose that's what separates "made it" from "the self proclaimed best kept secret". I will try to be more diligent. Lately I've had the notions of coming back to the jack of all trades motif. For a while I slowed any sort of production by trying to focus on one aspect of creating music and I developed the self proclaimed best kept secret complex...that doesn't fly when all you want to do is play music for people and make a living off of that. Secrets aren't screamed. But now that my volume is up and I'm much less inhibited about my expression, I'm able to be more creative. I encourage all to do the same, regardless of what you do for a living or hobby. I've begun production on the next N()nes release entitled "Soft America". Another blog entry will explain the title. But for now, this editorial is all I have to offer.

The "Love and Hunger" EP

N()nes is a recording project I started around 2006. I was using cassette and a Tascam four track to record all the songs at the time. I would do a "soft mix" on the four track and then record that onto the computer or, more often, a mini disk player. The concept was easy, the execution was almost impossible for the most part. There were so many gaps in the quality of the production, and I had such little knowledge as to how to improve them. In December of 2007, I moved from Washington, D.C. to my hometown of New Bedford, MA. There I linked up with one of my oldest friends, Eric Marshall, and we started recording music under a moniker we created five or so years earlier. We recorded a few tracks together, hit and miss, then I moved out to Virginia to continue other artistic ventures with another dear friend, DJ Glisson. I continued to record with Eric, this time long distance. The result of those "sessions" was our first record entitled, "The Forever Guarantee EP". By the release of the EP, I had moved back to Washington D.C. In November of 2010, I moved back to MA, all the while recording what would become the "Love and Hunger" EP. This marked yet another turn of the corner for the N()nes project. It's all still a work in progress, but it sure beats recording on tape!

I Just Stepped Out To Dry

There's a post
A long, tired ghost
Funny and verbose
Like the lengths I tear into

When thighs
And heat remind my eyes
The fleeting message aside
The coroner's gotta die
Sometime

Author in a ship
S.O.S.
Barrel off the hip
And in your chest
We couldn't find the script
So we made up the rest
It was all for the best

Composed
And mother's getting old
Retiring to the fold
You always knew she would

Tired goals
The anchor at the dock
Interrogated hearts
I just don't wanna talk
Sometimes

Author in a ship
S.O.S.
Barrel off the hip
And in your chest
We couldn't find the script
So we made up the rest
It was all for the best

I Know I Would Die If I Could Come Back New

Even when you don't like it
Even when it's all garbage
Even when the pale, sorry sky
Fights the inevitable darkness
Only to lose what it always does

The children we've become after
Tantrums and trauma
Could we actually remedy these
Happy holes with warm skin,
High thread counts, and wings

Even when we're older
Even as the coats arrive
Even when you tell yourself
It's still in tune, I'll survive
Only to hear the final mix...

And they'll all believe
Whatever they want
The fall guy remains with stars
In his head and guitars newly threaded
Some sole on his back where they tread

Cause you know me, I come back when you want me to.




Not really sure how I feel about this one, but after mulling it over for sometime I figured it's worth a post. Thank you music for being you. I will repay you one day...

K something...

So when I imagine having the ability to do the things that I love at optimal proficiency, I try to forget my mentor's voice telling me, "well, you sound just as good as [the best] you just gotta perfect it". There's a fear of arrogance which comes along with my intense fear of letting people down. Looking at this man's sowing kit, the mountains of bread and pastries, listening to the refrigerator hum and the High Llamas traverse murky melodies. Murky and bright. You don't see them together much. Unless it's winter. A friend said to me, "hey brutha, sorry, but I got ALL your coats and some other things [you will need]." He would though, knowing him and what I allow, he would. But I see these funny things when I look at him and when I walk past a group of fun loving friends. Search deeper than you intended to...whatever you consider impossible could just be unseeable. On the train to VA, she was telling me about her son. "If you're ever in Philly, we should do something." I at the time had a free schedule and no inclinations of going to Philly. But none against either. I had just dropped 130lbs and was finally able to breathe. She didn't know what she wanted, I wasn't looking. But I still feel like 2008 could have worked out differently. Not Philly, not Massachusetts, maybe California. When I finally touched down there was a homecoming feeling. Do you ever get the feeling that intangibles like stigmas and auras travel? Maybe even follow you? It may not be a terribly interesting thing to discuss, but I feel that way. On the Amtrak, in California, she/it was trying to rescue me. I held it like my family and it squirmed in my hands as if to keep my gaze. Maybe I think too low of myself, perhaps too highly. I have no idea, and will probably make no true efforts to comprehend. I don't know why I'm sharing this with you.

D.C.

I thought I was going backwards
and the figments were in fractions
that's my name...yea, that's my name
the one down front
they never taught you about
two lumps please
and leave the garnish out
that's my name...yea,that's my name

But when I wake up most times
and find the spins crossed with dotted eyes
It's hard to remember tall brick
Industrial parks waiver in comparison
to parched throats, bellies
RUMBLE!!

Keep it low next time you talk to Cliff
He's only good for veering off the subject
and talking in endless circles
Down
into that deep part you would rather none of them know
Go back to school to greet the fabric
hung in green to eliminate
everything around it.

This machine sounds like a song
Touch the pedal, sing along
This machine's like something wrong
Touch the pedal, sing along

Re: Norton Common

To Norton,

I know about the baskets
I read about them
I know

My voice seemed strange and overwhelming
Running from green and reaching for gray
I told him, I says, "you cream puff..."
The top of my head was not my face then

How did those prophetic fourth graders seek counsel
amongst triplets, golf prodigies, bruised souls, and plaqued teeth
N.early E.xited S.tations around the corner
gave birth to the commuters
We were none the wiser

Sounds feuded in the basement
Nude scientists made sense of their odd creations
This could fly, that could bend fire, she was there
Always there, seemingly, as soon as you let her be

"I packed my suitcase and threw it away"

And God knew I had seen the end of the day
At Virgin Record stores, the original Newbury
Neo New England

Oh Norton
The gas station told us our fortune
And we played along oddly like forked spoons
Leopard Skin, let the record spin...




So this one is in response to another poem by an extremely talented writer whose blog is called "The Machine Must Speak For Itself"...find him, read the "letter to E. Sherman" then read the rest of his poems...a true artist/writer he is...pure and true.