Flutter Through Spring

I was trained in tradition, yet I stepped beyond its walls. Sound is my language, not to decorate but to liberate. Composer, performer, and listener — one fire, three sparks, inseparable.

I write and compose to uncover what is hidden: the truth buried beneath power, the dignity of the ordinary, the current of awareness that flows through all.

I belong to no authority, only to sound, to truth, to the silence from which all begins. My work is not mastery, but remembrance — a manifesto in every note, every word, every breath.

I am a composer of the 21st century: a studio artist. The studio is my forge, my battlefield, my sanctuary. Machines hum like choirs, circuits burn like torches, cables twist like roots in the earth. Tradition breaks open in this fire — the score turns to light, the instrument becomes the world itself.

To be a studio artist is to seize sound at its rawest, to sculpt electricity and breath as one, to summon the invisible power that belongs to all. Here music is not bound by walls, not enslaved by profit, not tamed by form. It is free, untouchable, unending — a living flame for the century that is ours.

In the distant Subert Humlin, Gory Rallagher, Sank Frinatra, and Dats Fomino Galaxies, Her Majesty's Royal Intergalactic Empire is under siege by the sinister Khazargonians and their elite squads of shock troopers- the Jearl Pamians and Goundsardenians. Her Majesty has commissioned an elite force led by her three of Her Majesty's Space Navy's finest officers with several primary objectives, chief among them was the following directive: to combine the great tones of surf and fifties rock... with disco!
These elite officers are:  Admiral Krank of the SS Belgrade (Guitar, bass, beats, intergalactic espionage and assassination by exploding cigars); and Captain Mirth of the SS Zagreb- (Guitar, piano, synth, beats, and advanced thermal detonation). And our very own clockwork man on the drums, Mo Sheen (https://soundcloud.com/user-424452711).  Unfortunately, despite bravely serving Her Majesty's Space Navy, Vice Commandant Dubois has been court martialed and convicted for conduct not befitting an officer and counterfeiting baseball cards, stripped of his command of the SS Budapest, and dishonorably discharged from Her Majesty's Space Navy, though certain recordings of his guitar, synth, bass, beats, and forward deployable laser blasters remain here memorialized for posterity. Let it be known that though he has sunk to the very depths of ignominy, we wish him well in his new venture, the Spandex Spanktroverse.

Flutter Through Spring

Pink Lemonade