Rather than writing bunches of new songs, i seem to be writing bunches of little indy-ish snippets, none of which top two minutes in length. The first in this trend was “More Than That,” which appeared in the 12.3 Trio. Now there’s more… “Can’t Cure Love,” “(another) War,” “Impact,” “(this is what you) Pay For It,” “Spineless,” and more! I’m not sure if i’m just not putting in enough effort, or if all of these songs really want to be ineffectual little snippets. Maybe i’m just turning into the acoustic pop version of Guided By Voices… god knows i have the tape hiss down pat.
WhoO! Matt Pollard finally came through with that redesign he’s been promising us for months now. And my link has been returned to its rightful place on the main page! We love ya, big guy!
So… this week there’ll be a Trio… i’m just not sure of what magnitude. I missed it two weeks ago because i was busy packing and cleaning, and i missed it last week because i was at home. But, aside from not being around to record it, i’ve sorta hit an impass with the songs themselves. You see, i’ve played every song that wanted to be played without interspersing enough filler, so now i feel as though i either need to write new songs, play filler, or repeat some old ones. And i really don’t want to do any of that. Out of my 100+ compositions, i think it’s fair to say that i wrote a decent 33%, and from that third of the songs there’s only a few left. That’s not to say that all of my other songs are crap, but they just aren’t as solid or well thought out as the others, partially because i never had enough time to develop them. So… there will be a concert this week… it’s just the content that’s up in the air.
Today is a simple day. Outside it’s all white. They had been predicting a large snowfall all week but as i drifted off last night i hardly even remembered it. I’ve been sleeping on the floor since i got back because my bed still has the results of my cleaning spree all over it. This morning my eyes were pried open by the scrape of a metal shovel against cold hard cement, and even then i didn’t remember. A quick glance out of my window found tiny shards of whiteness lazily drifting down towards the ground, and it was then i knew.
Snow just makes the day more simple: it’s presence acting like a giant blanket muffling all of the streetsounds that usually remind me that there is an outside world. Now it’s just me, my guitar, and my fresh box of hot cocoa. And, of course, you.