Yeah, it means i am in my new apartment, the electricity is on, and so is the phone. Matt just departed for the lab, leaving me to maneuver my desk so that i can reach the single phone jack (looking to get that situation amended soon). All of my stuff is here minues my electric guitar and my vinyl pants, and after about four hours of frantic unpacking it all fits!!! More updates to come inbetween burst of rampant organizational activity.
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I’m blogging. You know what that means, don’t you???
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I might not say that song which have fallen out of my favour are “shit,” but i would certainly stop playing them at shows in a blink of an eye. My list of old setlists (from just playing around the house) reveals how a songs popularity can rise and fall. “Touch” debuted as a mid-set song which got played every time, moved soon to be an opener, than moved to the more important status of closer. On my demo it was awarded the important spot adjacent to “Other Plans,” though on my first demo “Other Plans” was the song that had the luck to be adjacent to “Touch”. Recently i’ve played “Touch” so little that i almost forget the words. I would hardly reccomend it as a vital listen to any of my newer friends, most of whom have never heard it outside of my demo. New songs have stepped up to fill it’s emotional place in my sets, new people have replaced the one the song was written about, new lyrics express my feelings better, new arrangements are more advanced, and recordings of newer songs sound more vital. Now i choose “Under My Skin” over “Touch” every time. I wonder what (and who) will replace “Under My Skin?” Time will tell the tale.
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I dunno if Prol really gets the point in her recent post on musicians criticizing the work of their not too distant past. Many times you can make music in a moment where everything seems perfect and witty and well produced, but that fervor can fade in days or months. You can positively believe in every song you put on an album but still view it as primitive after making your next one. Music is like any other art, and art is just an extension of the life the artist leads. Songs i’ve written about people who i no longer care for aren’t as attractive to me now, independent of whether they are ‘good’ or not. The artist in this respect is her own worst critic.