Friends and neighbors gather to jam in garage out by SR22 near Willamsport, Ohio.  The once cold cans of Busch Light take on new shapes, adorned with cigarette ashes on the concrete floor of the shed Jed's father built.

Non-Programmable

Till Plains

South Of The Tracks
Ain't too north of the hills
East of the highway
Don't have those west coast frills
The river may divide us
At the edge of the mill
It's best that we don't court girl
Cause I can't, I can't, I can't flip the bill

Never once before was there a heart I wanted to explore
Or at least it appeared that way, excitement gives me lots to say
Grateful to have crossed paths, but clearly when ya do the math
I'd like to give more than what you're asking for

South Of The Tracks
Ain't too north of the hills
East of the highway
Don't have those west coast frills
The river may divide us
At the edge of the mill
It's best that we don't court girl
Cause I can't, cause I can't, cause I can't be no shill

Reality has more than what you'll accept of the lore
I feel I can rightfully say, I've seen it most lude ways
Harbouring your divinity, to create our serenity
I'll tell it like it is and everytime you'll dismiss

South Of The Tracks
Ain't too north of the hills
East of the highway
Don't have those west coast frills
The river may divide us
At the edge of the mill
Since I keep it too real
We'll have to say, we'll say, we'll say no deal

South Of The Tracks

A song for those who feel like they carry the workload all the time.
Photo taken by Ashwini Chaudhary https://unsplash.com/photos/XEzFjLYqIvE

I'm just the mule
take no pity out on me
I'm just the mule
easiest to let it be
load my cart with your burdens
that's all you ever need of me

it takes the strongest will
to swallow the biggest pill
it takes the most warped minds
to preform the dirtiest of kinds
pigs will eat the slop
if that's all that is dropped
in their shallow troughs
they know not how to scoff

but I'm just the mule
why would you listen to me
oh I'm just the mule
through my eyes no need to see
yer saddlebags are my burden
heels and spurs left their marks on me

sometimes a landfill
lays beyond the windowsill
or is the trashheap
under your very own seat
bovines are a herd
deeply misunderstood
Some turn into glue
When they've done more than you

but I'm just the mule
why wouldja show some love to me
oh I'm just the mule
wish I had will to show glee
I'll be happy when its curtains
finally I will be set free

I'm Just The Mule

This is a satire aimed at the many pop-folk songs that rely heavily on lullabyesque crowd vocal to get that Phil Spector "sound wall" effect.  Vocal credits go to Stamati Arakas (drums as well,) Kevin Ashba, and Orion Difranco.

A mother bore a simple boy
Passed to him a big ol' heart
A mother showed a big ol' world
To describe, most words he will dart
To describe, most words he'll dart

An old guitar he can toy
They both dream that he will chart
He lacks the words to unfurl
True meaning, doesn't know where to start
Doesn't know where to start

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la

A father raised a simple boy
His lips did kiss his noggin
A father showed a big ol' world
Tried to teach most of his jargon
Tried to teach most of his jargon

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la
Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la

Hey hey hey hey hey..., hey hey hey ho
La la la la la la..., la tee tum ho
Oh oh oh oh oh..., hey hey hey ha
Fa la la la la la la la...

His old guitar he employed
With all the hours they'd been loggin'
Set few words to song for less knurl
In the earbuds of those who be joggin'
Easy song for those who joggin'

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la
Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la  

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, la

Hey, hey hey, hey hey ho
La, la la, la tee tum ho
Oh, oh oh, hey hey, ha
Fa, fa fa, fa la, laaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Audience Participation Hit Single

I pictured this music as such: a high-ranking mafia member comes home from a prison sentence.  The listener was supposed to protect the cured meats this elite man is known for collecting.  All the Gabagool is missing!!!  Listener gets a talking to...

Keep Yer Two Cents

Gabagool

Zach Russell on drums/percussion, Kevin Ashba audio engineered all vocals, and performed backing vocals, courtesy of Tree Listening

Turn away
Do not mind what they have to say
Do not wave
They obstruct what we do pave
A Better Today

Soldiers do not need fatigues
Just a will that is fixed, concrete
True as the sky is blue
We ask not for our dues
For we know not when we'll see relief

Seize the day
But do not get in the way
Seasons change
Minds can too, they are hard to sway
They will stave
Before long they may be saved
We'll have A Better Today

Borders form around thought bubbles
This is what gets us all in trouble
Gray was the sky you knew
Before you got your brand new shoes
Shortly after your fist started to double

Turn away
Do not mind what they have to say
Burn away
Any hope that they'll be saved
Seize the day
But do not get in the way
Do not wave
They obstruct what we do pave

A Better Today

A Better Today

The Wiindigo's Wamefous Wanderings Part IV
Wiindigo Kaanzhimowin
Kevin Ashba audio engineered percussion and performed most of the percussion heard, courtesy of Tree Listening.

Many people suffered to preserve the rest of their community on that awful night.

Every year Wiindigo Kaanzhimowin is performed by the ancestors of our befallen from earlier.

The ceremony takes on many meanings to the ones who perform it.

Such instances are a rare occurrence these days, but a Wiindigo could still make its presence known, even adapting and taking on different forms.

So no matter what you do, follow your instinct, and try not to resort to cannibalism in severe situations.  If the Wiindigo don't get ya, Kuru might.

The Wiindigo's Wamefous Wanderings Part IV (Wiindigo Kaanzhimowin)

The Wiindigo's Wamefous Wanderings Pt III
Plunder & Plight of the Wiindigo
Stamati Arakas on drums

The creature doesn't make it far before the Trapper's intended axe enters the back of its head.  Unscathed and wielding a new mixed composition appendage, the Wiindigo eats in few gulps the Trapper.  Having already grown a bit, the creatures furthers and doubles in size.  Everyone makes chance at fighting the evil beast.  Pure fear is had by all, but remember, reader, the supernatural and all things weird were more common in those days.  Westward expansion through North America..."tamed" and "restructured" this continent with a new history for a new people to its soil.

As perceived fatal advancements are made upon the Wiindigo, a couple people break away from the supernatural experience to feed the fire outside of the main dwelling.  The younger members of the tribe, through soiled garment are better understanding the morality behind their "boring" teachings.  It is through generational story the Cree know what to do in this type of situation, and fire is a part of the end game.  

The Wiindigo grows in size as a couple more people are consumed.  A limb is hacked off, but regenerates shortly after.  The fire is howling as loudly as the beast is, and the creature catches wind to their plan, attacking the fire's breast, the person bellowing the cold night air into the fire.

The pose the Wiindigo takes to nab the person allows a dozen people to tackle the beast.  Ripped, cut, sawed, hacked, shot, eviscerated was the creature's physical form.  Quickly the remains are thrown into the bonfire turned funeral pyre.  Spruce, pine, and aspen are constantly added to the massive fire as folk wave blankets to oxygenate the makeshift crematorium.  Everything must burn!  This is the only way to kill the creature.  Burn its parts... and lastly... the coldest heart remains.  

Four pick axes make constant rhythm on the glassy organ.  These men burn away as they destroy the heart.  They accept their fate as their yells of anguish are overpowered by the Wiindigo's cries of defeat.  The cold heart cracks and disintegrates into the fire as the screams and other-worldly sounds echo out into the night.

The Wiindigo's Wamefous Wanderings Pt III (Plunder & Plight of the Wiindigo)

Stamati Arakas on drums
The opening piano riff came to me in a Yellow Springs apartment complex community center.  I was waiting for a reply from my boss, and as vacant as the building was, I commandeered the desolate upright.  "Waiting on my boss to call..." morphed into what you hear purely for a better story to unfold.
I knew it had a very Posh Paul vibe to it, so I decided to put together something that felt like a 'Wings' era arrangement, while flirting with some Beatles tones.
Here's the protagonist's morning.  He doesn't want to go to work, running late for it anyways.  The only real excitement that nudges his malodorous society-rottened brain is the thought of spending the evening with his girlfriend.

Late To Work

Waitin' on my bus to come
Where everybody comin' from?
All the people packin' in
Nobody is wearin' a grin
Waitin' on the bus to come
My shirt wears breakfast crumbs
Old lady smells of gin
Stockings fallen past her shins
Waiting on my bus to come
The day is far from done
A fat man lost his chin
Another person found their twin
I... will probably...be...

Late to work, I'll be a jerk
The boss won't smirk and I'll work longer
I need this job to buy a car
And bus passes no longer bother
Late to work is no real quirk
The only perk is just take longer
Your picture is on the inside of my work locker

Waitin' for the bus to come
Lookin' forward to gettin' me some
Later we will both win
After we eat our din
But, right now I'll probably...be...

Late to work, I'll be a jerk
The boss won't smirk and I'll work longer
I need this job to buy a car
And bus passes no longer bother
Late to work is no real quirk
The only perk is just take longer
Daydreams last, I stare off far
And wonder if that is Ted's mother
I have to smirk, she makes it work
That "Karen" lurk, nothing feels wronger
I can tell that you will age well

Bus, oh where's my bus?
Bus, oh where's my bus?
Bus, oh where's my bus?  Ooooh!
It's pulling up to me now!

Driver would you help me?
My work just might terminate me
Can you obtain great speed
In this people movin' machine?
I really don't want to be there
But how else will I afford my bus fare?
Please, oh please just get me there

The more I plead, he ignores me
So I sit right down, and just be
Came through the window, sun's rays told me
Just Let it be
I really need to chill out
Now that I am more in route
Still, my manager is going to pout
But tonight, please don't have no doubt

We'll be rockin' and rollin'
Groovin' like Muscle Shoals, yeah
We'll be sockin' and boppin'
Wilson Picket to lift our souls, yeah
We'll be rockin' and rollin'
Groovin' like Muscle Shoals, yeah
Oh, at last, I am finally there!

Running to the time clock
I can't be late, I can't afford late
Oh yeah, I'm definitely
Late to work, yes I'm a jerk
The bus was late so thus my falter
I need this job to buy a car
And bus passes no longer bother
This job sucks, my knees hurt too much
Thinking it over, I could do better
But I'm here, I'll deal with your mess

That's how I lost my job!

Late To Work

This is the opening track to my EP 'Dopamine Shortage'.

Special thanks to Johnny Wotring for inspiration, and whoever that guy was at Sheetz in South Bloomfield, OH, waiting on his four hotdogs at 4 AM on a Friday.  Also, thanks to Kevin Ashba of Tree Listening for letting me borrow his Casio SK-5.

Dopamine Shortage

I'll Tell You What

This is the second track on my EP 'Dopamine Shortage'

If I am not mistaken, this is the oldest one of the lot.  I pieced together a lot of sound clips, samples, and guitars/basses for this one.  I vote this tune to be the dumbest effort on this EP.

Special thanks to Cane Man, and other people seen on the boobtube.

Cane Man Cometh

Fourth track on the EP 'Dopamine Shortage'

I rap on this one.  I so desperately want to be one of the cool kids, I gave in and did a rap for y'all.  I thank no-one for this, so then I can maintain a cooler macho vibe.  I hope this works...

Dunno What I'm Gunna Do

Seventh track of my EP 'Dopamine Shortage'.

California is an adventure for most, and perhaps I threw in my beach towel a bit too soon.  There's plenty of things I would love to be able to do, but the routes to be taken are not showing up on my Efrum Maps App...I'd like to thank Stamati Arakas for letting me borrow his room to record the guitar and bass for this.
Transcript

Wish I Could (Stay)

Fifth song on my EP 'Dopamine Shortage'

Who doesn't want a go cart intermission?

Go Kart Intermission

Third song...makes  a Dale Earnhardt!!!  If ya know, ya know.

Another great example of me not caring about the listener.  I had fun recording in a desert in Cali, inside of my running Pontiac Vibe singing these vocals.  My AC did what she could for that sweltering hour.  I would like to thank and credit Kevin Ashba (courtesy of Tree Listening Studios) for playing, recording, and engineering the drums on this one!

I Fuck Around

The sixth installment of the ever-popular Extended Play 'Dopamine Shortage'.

At some point I watched a video on this platform of Paul.  A beautiful soul, I had to honor him with a song, and this came to be.  I would like to thank Paul and his family for keeping hope alive in folks like myself.  Also, a big thanks and credits to Kevin Ashba of Tree Listening Studios.  He performed, recorded, engineered not just drums/percussion but vocals too.  Thanks to his Nord board as well for the air-effect.

Man In The Iron Lung

Eighth track to my EP with the same name!!!

We're all guilty to craving something that makes us feel good.  Can be Heroine...can be a crossword puzzle.  I find it interesting what any kind of addiction can do to a person.  This song is dedicated to everyone trying to kick their vices in the shins.  Big thanks and credit to Zach Russel for performing, recording, and engineering the drums on this one!  Kevin Ashba (from over there at Tree Listening Studios) laid down some sick looming keys on parts of this track as well!

I have spent half of my life in bands, have worked with a lot of people, and NOW I am finally putting out my own work under my own name.  I've dabbled with it the whole time, just never have gotten serious until 2020 happened and curved the whole "playing out" thing, which was my life.

Efrum

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