A kind of challenge, i wanted to see if i could write a song from scratch, music and lyrics, record and mix in under 3 hours. It keeps me from overthinking ideas and neverending posibilities.
This is the result.


Lyrics:

i keep counting my mistakes,i use my fingers, but im running out of hands
because all i ever wanted to be was someone else   instead of me,
but i guess i fucked up along the way

so then i came up with a plan
slow suicide by alcohol and cigarettes.
so I’ve been drinking every night
and it feels like the longest time
but you know, things really aint that bad.

And now my troubles have all flown
I keep on spitting words on to a microphone
but some things take some time to change
until your brains all rearrange
and i guess thats just where im at right now

Some nights I stay up looking at the ceiling
wide awake and dreaming
Most nights Im just too tired to care

Im getting there 



therapy

Product of a July Sunday melting away in my apartment.

In general, it is about worrying about things you can‘t control. 
So yeah, don't do that.

Up All Night

Again a rush proccess. 3,5 h since i picked the guitar to start writing chords , recording every instrument, writing lyrics, singing, and mixing everything, until i posted it online. seems to be the only way i manage to finish things...

MF-acoustic guitar, bass guitar, lap steel guitar, synths, vocals

Defeated

Cheesy song written and recorded over the course of a gloomy november weekend.

Walking The tightrope

friday afternoon jam.

Miguel F: acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bass, keys, shaker, vocals.

Talking Slow

Miguel F- acoustic, electric, and bass guitars, vocals.

another quick experiment in home recording.

Become

one of those songs than come so quickly you have to record them in the moment.

LYRICS:

I'm a worker at the wall
that you build around my soul
and still you say
that I'm paying for it.

I'm a waiter at the bar
that you keep inside your heart
it's not too busy
but it's happy hour sometimes.

But mostly I sweep the floor
for pieces of glass and alcohol
and I take care of the mess you make.

I'm a broker on a phone,
selling stock to anyone 
that will buy the lies you tell.

I'm a plumber 
I fix pipes,
in your brain,
sometimes in mine,
we are a mess of dripping water.

And I'm in shit up to my knees
the level's rising I'm still here
trying to fix the mess you make.

The Mess You Make

Ballad Of Big Nothing

Hello. i am Miguel, a Spaniard living in Vienna, Austria. Thanks for stopping by.

This is a place for me to store my home demos, a proverbial "drawer" where I keep unfinished projects, that will probably never get finished anyway.
Maybe they will, we will see. Work in progress in any case.

Each one should be a bit better than the one before, as I keep progressing in the geeky world of recording with Logic, and hitting my head against a wall, over and over again.

Again, thanks for listening, feel free to say hi.

bedroom_tapes

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