"If rock and roll is dangerous,
How come I feel so safe in it?"
- James Alex

General “Mad Dog” Gaston - vocals, rhythm guitar
Sergeant Stuart Longhorn - lead guitar
Colonel Augustus “Gus” Jeffries - bass guitar, lead vocals on “Country Kitchen Struttin’”
Admiral Notsag Yosh- rhythm & lead guitar, background vocals
“Robo” JG2020 - drums

General Gaston's Rock Armada - ...is in Command and in High Demand (Quarantine RPM 2020)

A few instrumental and mostly electronic tracks I produced over the last two years. I used a lot of cut-up and manipulated Garageband tracks but all arrangements and guitar tracks are my own.

Pan Dem Problems Up II (Tortoise EP)

A few tracks I made over the last couple of years. All lyrics are about different aspects of dat pandemic lyfe

Pan Dem Problems Up I (Hare EP)

RPM 2022 was focusing on percussion, polyrhythms, and having the guitar (usually) take a back seat. Weird times for weird times.

Weird Time(s)(RPM 2022)

I’ve been sitting downtown with my head on tight
Don’t know where I’m going but I know it’s in sight
But this gutter stomach funk got me feeling sluggish
Feeling like  I’m carrying around some extra luggage

Laying on my couch and eating junk equal to my weight 
It’s all I can do to watch cooking shows to satiate
This hunger that’s got me filling my stomach with trash 
But eating all the chocolate and cheese doesn’t seem to reduce my stash

I don’t feel so good

BBQ with chocolate brownies à la mode
Got me feeling like a fat, brown toad 
Art & Mary’s jalapeño chips with caramel fudge
Got me feeling like a big old slug
Thick cut bacon in Butterfinger milkshakes
Got me feeling like a rotund, obese snake  
Chicken and waffles in honey
Got me feeling like a Teletubby 

I don't feel so good

Get me off this couch,
Get me off this cycle (x4)

Coping with stress through mastication
Swallowing sends me on a spiral of rumination
Get me off this couch, get me off this cycle
Before my stomach is sentenced to death by trial   

I don’t feel so good

Pan Dem Problems Up (EP 1)

Gutter Stomach Funk

Runtime errors superabound
In a virus-infested system
A corruption of humanity
Reflected in the sick, blue screen

Man made the machine
The machine made man 

Veins thread into wires
Connect to mainframe
Reborn in machinery
Reborn without a soul 

Man made the machine
The machine made man   

Fail to identify
An identity transformed
Consciousness uploaded
To the mainframe of our souls

Man Made The Machine

Pan Dem Problems Up (EP 2)

Not Cool (Jazz), Bro

Trenchcoat Full of Algorithms

Mylencia

Cold air rips away restless sleep
Collect the remains of a hazy dream
Couldn’t shake the sudden creep
That you were lying there 

Run from the abuse that you devise
Return to the shame in which I hide
Coliseums full of laughter deride
My shadow standing there

A bleak coronation for resounding defeat
Collect the crown and then again retreat 
Into hazy dreams

Nodding off to the land where nothing lasts
Heavy crown aloft my ashen head 
Grows thick with thorns amassed 

Nodding off to the land where nothing lasts
Mocking crowd echoes in my swollen head
Reaching  dirt with eyes downcast      

Act on the stage, my part underplayed
Fail to deliver a bold display
Couldn’t shake the sudden way
That you were sitting there

Fumble lines of forgotten rhyme
Recall ignominy in which I hide
Auditoriums full of mockery deride
My shadow standing there

A bleak coronation for resounding defeat
Collect the crown and then again retreat 
Into hazy dreams

Nodding off to the land where nothing lasts
Heavy crown aloft my ashen head 
Grows thick with thorns amassed 

Nodding off to the land where nothing lasts
Mocking crowd echoes in my swollen head
Reaching  dirt with eyes downcast

Pan Dem Problems Up

Nodding Coronation

RPM 2022

Single-Elimination Horse Hockey Tournament

You come to me in the middle of the night
With your glassy eyes and your gauzy sight

How could I resist? I’m so weak in the knees, gonna spiral out
Narcotic fevers keep us together, keep us down       

Let me drown in
Narcotic fevers
Let me stay down in
Narcotic fevers

Ecstasy comes scratching at my door
Writhing salvation on stained glass floors  

How could I resist? I’m so pale, so gaunt, gonna spiral out
Narcotic fevers keep us together, keep us down 

Let me drown in
Narcotic fevers
Let me stay down in
Narcotic fevers

Weird Time(s)

Midnight Couriers

Memory Tapes Glide Under Electric Eyes

Firework flower pollen glitter display
Pink rose sunset bursts widely into space
Casts an enchanted spell over me 
A gift to tease me to be free

Warm body ripples of cyan waves 
Stay my breath with the comforts you say
Hushed foam wraps around my delicate toes
Stay my thoughts with the comfort you show

(Chorus)
Moving with the current 
Could you see the wave?
Moving as the current
Could you see me wave?
Waving forms and bends while daydreaming the day again

Saved from quicksand sinking feet
By the pull of the water’s ebb beneath
Break free of heavy undertow choices 
Grains of sand form competing  voices

Palm unclenched from holding onto pressure
Refracted amber drop formed in the ether 
Casts an enchanted spell over me
A gift to tease me to be free

(Chorus)
Moving with the current 
Could you see the wave?
Moving as the current
Could you see me wave?
Waving forms and bends while daydreaming the day again

Weird Time(s) (RPM 2022)

Waving Sunsets Burst Widely

Florid window drapes brushed away behind
Ornamental flowers that never decay

Peer into god’s lush kaleidoscopic garden 
Abundance of life that’s shining and untrodden

Saintly figure crouching and caressing
Orchids and daylilies carefully undressing  

Bumblebees buzz and hummingbirds hover
Honey allotted and nectar undiscovered

Velvet garden gloves of god’s gifted touch
Prunes and trims with tools gently clutched

Conductor hands strike a balanced expanse
Directed harmonies weave and dance

But rotten fruit falls from the spindly apple tree
Rolls to the foot boot black of men free

The juice dribbles down as they scratch their jutting chins
Opens their minds to the pleasures of sin

Ooo x ∞
Ahh x ∞

The Simple Pleated Velvet Garden Gloves of God

The doctor said, "Your body ain’t no good.
You got a hair trigger that goes down to the base of your spine"
He then repeated the premise of the inflamed baboon
Calling on statistics from the almanac of primate inflammation

The statistics tell of a grave season binding us to swollen bellies of disbelief
As chimps and baboons alike wander within the circus state 
Cartoonish in their superhero capes and clown shoes
Alone in their inflammation

Mating rituals tossed aside as bodies grow grotesque
And, quite frankly, the capes and clown shoes don’t help neither
Some do tricks on two-legged chairs just to pass the time
Holding up spinning sugarcane plates til they blood sugar crash down

I got an inflamed belly
Belly, belly
I got an inflamed belly
Belly, belly
I got the inflamed belly blues

Passengers in the clown cars spill out onto the streets of desire
Dumbfounded staring contests replace abandoned courtship displays
Everything sours when drool drips down their chinny chin chins
They confess to subsequent vows of silence

Lonely chimps sneak into zoos for live sex shows with full body entertainment
Vying for position on the front row of excess with a clown shoe clatter
Broken bones uproot and bloody noses bloom in the nosebleed section 
While metal cages and wire screens filled  with eyeballs in the front row mediate primate passions 
  
I got an inflamed belly
Belly, belly
I got an inflamed belly
Belly, belly
I got the inflamed belly blues

I got a garbage collecting belly and a hydraulic compression spine   
The trash I consume encompasses my entire clown state world
After escaping, standing on the edge of a hair-brained plan 
I wonder if it’s worth the struggle to heal this inflamed belly

I said, “Doc, this sure is worrying news…there’s got to be a cure, doc. What’s the cure?”
I said, “Doc, there’s gotta be a cure! I gotta know what the cure is! For the inflamed belly blues!”

Purr Sleeze

Inflamed Baboon Season (RPM 2023)

Cylium

Bathed in the gold desert waves
Caravan trodding bare path unscathed

Leads to the sand temple on high
Formed in a mystical haze that blinds

To worship the scripture engraved in smoke
Formed from the dancing green flames stoked

Hieroglyphs ablaze and arise transcribed:
The great wars will be the end of time

From the sand temple we’ll ascend
Fulfilling told prophecy now at hand

To worship the scripture engraved in smoke
Formed from the dancing green flames stoked 

Nightsky stardust hangs in heavens above
Levitate to reach with an outstretched glove

Grasping on to ages that have long since passed
Wrapped in the vapors that have amassed

Unlock the rhyme with planets aligned:
The great wars will be the end of time

The Great Mustache Wars of the 1970s

Trying to mess around with less structured, more psychedelic/weirder songs

Faded Submersible Sparklers

I know, I know, I know, 
I should let it go, it go, it go, it go

There’s the refrain, that’s the main shame
Turning back around again and again and again
Always on background, in display
I can’t shake the feeling, it’s here to stay

Waiting, waiting, waiting
For a change, a place to stay
A place to lay the blame
To restore some of the same

Stuck gum on urinal cakes 
Within four scribbled walls
“I like music that sounds like shit” 
The sticker read in these stalls

Scratched record spinning ‘round again and again
Same top 40 tired four-chord refrain
Verse-chorus-verse
Verse-chorus-verse
Verse-chorus-verse
And I’m stuck on this bridge
Yea, this broken bridge

Wide sky fantasize
About open highways
Steely-eyed but I realize
I’m stuck on this bridge
Yea, this broken bridge

Waiting, waiting, waiting
For a change, a place to stay
A place to lay the blame
To restore some of the same

There’s the refrain

Here to stay

Red neon lights hide lines 
Engraved on my face
Bathed in roses with weathered wilt
A sign of disgrace  
Through piss puddle alleys, knight of cups 
Searching for fountains and grails, don’t give up

Friends on background, episodes on replay
I can’t stand the monotony, it’s here to stay:
Predictable plotlines and tired routines
Stock characters in played-out scenes

Waiting, waiting, waiting
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Waiting, waiting, waiting

Consortium Of Googly-Eyed Missteps

Dreamhouse

Josh - guitar, vocals
PJ - bass
Franklin - drums

Recorded by Jim

The First Reborn as Light

Jimmy - guitar, drums, vocals
Josh - guitar, vocals
Dan - bass
Anson - drums, keytar, vocals

Recorded by Jim

Diff'rent Strokes

Starved and severed along common lines
Bleeding, weary, looking for signs
It’s a wonder to have gotten this far
Ascetic whip wound tight, skin scarred

Peripatetic, needles & pins
Opening wounds to bleed my sins
Pricking the acumen procured
From years of fruitless, senseless wander

Give up all your swords
Put down all your shields
The full-time eunuch has lost it again
Succumbing to desert spells 

Give up all your swords
Put down all your shields
The full-time eunuch has ceded the call
Aghast at wasted years 

Lazy crusade, big ball & chain 
Cursing these feet in pretend pain
It’s a wonder to have gotten this far
Sacrifice the legs before the Fall

Seeking the cave, fear to enter unscathed
Summoning the courage to accept the cage
Last words spoken, sputtered and mangled 
Last bastion of a warrior entangled

Give up all your swords
Put down all your shields
The full-time eunuch has lost it again
Succumbing to desert spells 

Give up all your swords
Put down all your shields
The full-time eunuch has ceded the call
Aghast at wasted years 

The full-time eunuch has lost it again
The full-time eunuch has ceded the call
The full-time eunuch has lost it again
The full-time eunuch has ceded the call

...is in Command and in High Demand

A Fulltime Eunuch

The high-flying cacti are the new guard
They’ve sprouted wings and flown out wide and far
To ship off to adventures drawing nigh 
To seek riches and self-assured lies (for a price)

Brush with death and carry on
The high-flying cacti are standing strong
Crash into fate and sing along
The high-flying cacti deserve your song

Hellish flight
Leads to fiery depths
Cursing the sight 
Of these cactus steps 

Misery accompanies frantic trails
To find the cacti that finally prevails

The high-flying cacti set a new high bar
As the young and brave for high regard
Celebrating personal brands installed
Grabbing attention-seeking (free-for-alls)

Brush with death and carry on
The high-flying cacti are standing strong
Crash into fate and sing along
The high-flying cacti deserve your song

Hellish flight
Leads to fiery depths
Cursing the sight 
Of these cactus steps 

Misery accompanies frantic trails
To find the cacti that finally prevails

Clash of High Flying Cacti

Justine skips to the beat of
Hop scotch and skipping rope
As the material world 
Shakes, rattles, and rolls

Justine’s dress with simple seams
Threads the universe bare
When reality is not what it seems
Into Justine’s dream we stare

Collapsing into one
Threading into seam
When the universe comes undone 
We are Justine’s Dream

Justine runs over fields with grace 
Bumping daisies of nova
That burst into outer space
Gnats swarm into nebula 

When Justine’s twirls in her dress
And wind catches the fine tears
While eternity faces its own return
Into Justine’s dream we stare

Collapsing into one
Threading into seam
When the universe comes undone 
We are Justine’s Dream

We are frequently Justine’s dream x 4

Frequently Justine's Dream

To all the unemployed boys drinking beers and getting stoned
To all the full-time girls working overtime
To all the single people twiddling their thumbs alone
To all the families with wild-eyed, wild-haired children

For those entranced with ennui 
For those interred with inertia 
For those listing all the listlessness
For those bongripping boredom

We salute you x 4

A Silver Six-Pack Salute

General Gaston is in Command (Intro)

I fill voids of silence with music.

This is mostly a digital repository for my old bands' recordings dating as far back as 2001 with a recording of my first band when we were in middle school. You'll mostly find metal and different styles of rock, but I've done all sorts of whacky stuff for the RPM (Record Producing Month) Challenges

Gaston J

Pinned to spotlight

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