All my things

Song sketch, Jul 6th 2013
I sing to myself in my car and sometimes remember it when I get home. This is that. 

Footstepping

ong: 
I miss the time that you missed me, kissed me, 
wishing words wrote were't woeful or wispy
kiss me, close closed eyes keep killing the cold 
can't keep cuddling, coddling old 
memories manifest morgellonite mold 
constantly opening another road
to treat the time taken like up like gold
it's. killing. us. both.  


I wish the times that you kissed me whistly
warded wild wars with worse words briskly 
but see, Insults minor possess the hosts
lighting up lies as living ghosts 
which took our place. masked our face.
We dwell in a world that's been erased.
Invisible us inside this space
Is. killing. us. both. 

Insults Minor

This is a demo recored on a Tascam 22-4 reel to reel with zero mixing done (reverb comes from the board).  This is my first fully analog recording (converted to digital via the rca outs on the tape machine>focusrite forte line ins>iMac).

Half the sunlight in the world, is your face
and the other half exists inside the space
Of which I haven’t found a way to crack it like an egg
and let its contents shine upon my face

Half the music in the word is your name
and the other half seems to be erased
And if I was allowed to sing one last song to you
it would be about how I have gone insane
Believing I have died and dwell inside an empty world
Where I can do anything but see your face.

'Cause you’re alright
but it haunts me
That you survive
and it haunts me
That you can try 
without me
'case you are strong
-er than me

Keeping things inside is what creates every decline
and is the catalyst that disintegrates

Incompatibility for seven years I can’t believe
nothing could be done to save us
cold required silence makes the

heart in you grow cold for me
Your self fulfilling prophecy 
That I haven’t made a change
one mistake I’m the same

While you’re alright
and it haunts me
That you survive
and it haunts me
That you can try 
without me
'case you are strong
-er than me

But asking why your sad is not a
curse it isn’t bad and if you walked my way 
a little bit you’s see that I care in all of it 

When you ask, 
You’ll ask those who say I’m alright
When you ask, 
You’ll ask those who say I’m alright
When you ask, 
You’ll ask me when you I’ve got to say I’m alright

But I’m not doing very well
I’m not doing very well
I’m not doing very well
I’m not doing very well
Oh I’m not doing very well

But you’re alright
and it haunts me
That you survive
and it haunts me
That you can try 
without me
'case you are strong
-er than me

half the sunlight in the world is  your face
and the other half seems to be erased

Without Me - (one shot recording on 1/4" reel).

Lyrics: 
My own mother 
was a complicated women 
she had less ears than most people 
so I never listened 
to make it even
my whole life, I built shields 
they were moderately effective 
so I gave them to my sister 
no sound could get through them
no sound could get through them

and I don't know why trying is like now
no I don't know what trying is like now
I don't know what trying is like now
I don't know why I can't walk forward 
I don't know why I can't walk forward

$1 download

Moderately Effective

I’m like a dog you own
trusty but never equal 
I appreciate your bones 
and I might be the only one 
who appreciates your bones. 
You throw me a smile 
a lie 
I know it every time 
but I can see what lies behind 
your eyes 
deep inside your bones 
my heart 
deep inside your bones 
you’ll find out 
when you’re all alone 
that I was your servant
and you sat upon the throne 
of my heart 
and deep inside your bones
you’ll find out 
I’m your only home 
you’ll find out 
only when I’m gone 
I was never a slave
I was only hanging on 
to the wishes we had 
deep inside your bones (x3)

I know you, I'm not sure I can know you any more than I do. 
On the other hand, I'm not sure I can know you anymore. 
See, I believe you love me, and I've got no reason to.
I believe you love me, and I've got no reason to.

You're just sweet enough 
to keep me around
But not sweet enough 
to be around
You're just sweet enough 
to keep me around
but not sweet enough
to be around... me. 

he he he
he he he he
he he he

You're like a thread of gold
cast upon my crown 
refractions of light 
threw it to the ground
not to mention the hook 
forever in my mouth
you didn't put it there but please take it out
you're the only one who can do that now
'casue I don't have the strength to be without 
your heart, deep inside my bones
your eyes, deep inside my bones
I've buried you, deep inside my bones
you're the only one, deep inside my bones. 
deep inside my bones (x3) 
bones, bones, bones, bones

he he he
he he he he
he he he 
he he he he

You're not sweet enough to be around... me

Bones

purchase album: http://www.fictionsfictions.bandcamp.com

Fictions is an existential and musical thought project from the mind of Jeffrey James, a neo- surrealist, songwriter, and conceptual artist based in Minneapolis, MN. For much of the last decade, the Jeffrey James sound has evolved into “spook folk;” a genre that he invented to describe his own style of haunting avant-rock, psych folk, and experimental music.

His newest EP, “Music for Ghost People” is the work of a dark troubadour, covering themes of meaningless and disillusionment but overall hopeful and poignantly beautiful, much like the feeling of waking up from a dream and slowly realizing everything is the same as it ever was. “Moderately Effective” in particular, as the hazy, layered vocals syrup out non-sequiturs that seem to come straight from dream logic, “I don't know why trying is like now/ I don't know why I cant walk forward”

“Kids” is by far the darkest and most haunting track, beginning with the lilting sound of piano, and what sounds like the hiss and crackle of an old answering machine recording in which the artist laments in elegiac voice, the death of the muse in the face of a society that is swallowed by the facade of imposed reality, which is a fiction in itself. Here he speaks in free verse form, “It's not a game of hiding as long as you can/It's a game of realizing that you are hiding”

Aside from writing music , Jeffrey James is currently working on a series of a conceptual art projects. The first one, called “Nails,” explores what the fiction of image means to the online viewer.
- by Savannah Louise