A hound needs to holler, and a bum needs a dollar, and I need my Rosie Bokay...
I couldn't tell you what exactly triggers the country mood. For me, it just happens. It's when that looseness sits in the face just right, and when you've got on the right kind of coat. When your stride gets longer and you start to slow down, you may feel that sort of spirit coast along the front of your face. You get to being less idealistic, and you can laugh a little more. Difficulties start to become humorous; uncertainty flies out the window. And trust me, all the windows stay open.
I think about how they sexy-washed Johnny Cash in the Bob Dylan movie. They made that man look so fucking delicious, you almost forget that in reality, JR looked the way he sounded. And I say that as someone who admires his work, and his life. Boyd Holbrook did a good job of portraying the man, but Lord, they're trying to erase the 6.5's of history, and I won't stand for it. That's just a joke; I don't believe in that stuff unless it applies to me.
Making a sound that evokes the feeling of open air... that's the real treat of it. That's what I feel they got right with the Westerns and folk songs, that's what I think I like the most. You have that space to let something meander and fade, in a way that other sounds are just too compact to allow.
The ironic thing about Techno music is that it can do the same thing. In a way that House just can't figure.
I always let that song wash over me when I'm driving the dailies in GT. Computer Love. Near the last third, it opens up the sound in just the same way as Grapevine.
There's something so special about a sound that can wash over you like that, y'know. And it's funny that I started out thinking about that song by the Osborne Brothers, cause it doesn't have what I'm talking about at all. Rosie Bokay is different, y'know? No, this song is deeper in the chair, huddling around a friend playing their tune. You sing it with the front of your teeth; it's something you sing when you're bored and wistful with a friend. It's a familiar sort of biscuit, that lovable Waffle House smell.
Well, a hound needs to holler, and a bum needs a dollar, and I need my Rosie Bokay...
What I sing when I've been working for a long time, or walking down Woodward for a few hours, is Lumberjack.
Well, I learned this fact from a logger named Ray...
You never cut timber on a windy day...
Stay out of the woods when the moisture's low...
Or ye' ain't gonna live to collect your dough...
Will you tell me somethin', Mr. Lumberjack...
Is it one for forward, and three for back?
Is it two for stop, or four for go?
Boy, ask a whistlepunk...
I don't know.
Ride this train to Romulus, Michigan. Now there's a town for you. I remember passing out keychains and papers and whatnot for the University back then, and you talk about heat. Just about every step I took in that festival made me feel like a Chain Ganger, but you shoulda seen Romulus when me and my coworker walked in.
That feeling follows me everywhere I go, even in my own house. "I shouldn't be here... these people don't want nothin' to do with me."
That immobilization, it comes back again.
Y'know, I was talking to my buddy about a suspicion that was totally unfounded, right? I though she blocked me. I dunno, she might've, but I guess I don't know what it looks like. Everything is still visible to me, I can send stuff to this moment, right? I just got cold feet about it, let that feeling do the work instead of my knowledge. Never the right way to walk, y'know.
My nails feel naked without colors on 'em, I'm gonna try pink this time. But I have to admit, friends... I kind of miss the blue. That metallic teal, that was nice. Remas seems to like most of the looks I pull off, she's always the right to voice to hear when I need to get focused.
We're gonna work on Unseen this week, as well as Medusa and Banshee. As far as Judy is concerned, I'm moving away from that direction. It's off the album. We're doing more Electric Ladyland and Axis instead of Are You Experienced. I do like to think of the color of my works through analogues of Jimi Hendrix, I will always be myself on the inside.
Unseen seemed to take a different color than I was expecting, I sort of unconsciously took some notes from Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins. The oscillations are still kind of Stereolab, and I'm maintaining some of the color from Broadcast, but the world of indie rock sludge I'm working out of hits every wall in the room, seems like. I'm moving out of the territory of Grace Jones, Prince, Talking Heads, and Donna Summer. That's the chokehold I was in last week, but now I'm letting the looseness back in.
I'll tell you the song that started to influence the colors of Unseen and Banshee. There was a track on In Utero called Dumb that moves my mind a lot.
I will talk more about the song but... readers... they talking about the guy who missed. Again. What is wrong with you guys? Seriously. Every time. Don't even report that shit if it's not the big one.
So anyways... Dumb.
There are no original experiences.
I get bashful when I think about getting her attention. And even platonic contexts, around anyone. I can't have too much fun, it means I'm forgetting something. It means I'm not reading the room; someone is lying to me. It's the only way my better nature makes any sense.
I think I'm dumb... or maybe just happy
I think about the lady in the leaves when I get like this. I'm starting to understand her clarity, how cogent that feeling of guidance can be. That character in particular was one my professor seemed to like, which is interesting because the device employed by consulting her perspective can seem almost schizoaffective in practice. But she never says the wrong thing, it's an issue. She's not me; she's my better nature, separated from my feelings.
You are happy. It's difficult to know what to do with that, when you're caught in a dour habit.
You made this seem more "normal," didn't you? You still have some work to do on yourself, I won't chastise you for things you know you should do better.
The image of the Manikin should prove provocative, lean on that as the crux of the message. Messages will be felt more deeply through sight. It sounds like gobbledygook, but it's essential.
You know the audience you're working for. Remember her better nature, and respect the distance.
Refer to the second paragraph, ma'am. You know better.
Respect the distance, respect the distance. How distant is too distant? That's for her to decide. I will leave the uncertainty of it, let her find me on her own time.
And I'll clarify for my audience... we are not talking about the "Captive Reader."
I'll see you guys soon, take good care of yourselves. Everything is uncertain, everyone is unseen. Let the leaves keep us safe, okay?
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