This is a sample of some of the guitar parts I'm working on for a metal project. I recorded this on Audacity and couldn't find a way to program a click-track that followed the time changes and odd time signatures, so I just recorded without any kind of click or metronome. Needless to say, it's very rough. I have lyrics and other instrumental sections for this song, but I haven't yet recorded them. I just did this to give a basic idea of what I'm writing.

Breaking Ouroboros (Sample 1)

This is a song I wrote and recorded a while ago. I played the guitar and did all the vocals, and I collaborated with some friends who programmed the drums and recorded the keys, beatbox, and trumpet. The song title is a play on the literary term "ars poetica," which means "art of poetry." In a way, it serves as a sort of personal artist's manifesto. The mix isn't professional by any means, but at least you get the idea of what it sounds like.

Ars Floetica

Rough Audacity demo (no click track). 

LYRICS:

On a hill overlooking Lake Michigan,
In a Milwaukee venue I met her again—
Rudimentary attempts at conversation
Through the noise of the sound-check, waiting for the show to begin.

I’d come out for this band on their farewell tour—
Bodies packed on the general admission floor.
It was years since I’d seen her – now eighteen years old,
Hitching rides across state lines with a purse and no more.

Said she fell out with her parents, packed up and left home—
Just a restless young spirit, given to roam.
She had a friend and a suitcase—‘til the suitcase was stolen,
Then companions split ways; now she travels alone.

And our words were cut short when the screaming guitars hit—
Two worlds apart, in the heat of a mosh-pit.
But as we listened to the speakers sing
All those miles of highway didn’t mean a thing.

The show was over, we were both of us dying for thirst.
Walked a block to a gas station (could have been worse).
I was concerned for her safety and who she’d be with;
She said “I’ve spend a hundred nights like this; it won’t be the first”

She’d met some road-trippers earlier that afternoon—
She said she’d find them and crash at their motel room.
“You’ve no idea who these guys are,” I said with concern,
Well aware that I’d have to be leaving soon.

So I asked her if she might think through this again,
And ride back to Chicago with me and my friend.
Oh, but free birds will choose where and when they will fly;
She just laughed and said, “Ain’t you a gentleman?”

And then our words were cut short by hum of ignition,
Carried apart by a rumbling engine.
And Andrew and I let the car speakers sing
While the miles of highway became everything.

Stars watched over I-94… Shotgun seat, loaded with thoughts.
Relentless escape, through the nation’s arteries:
To drift endlessly – traceless, unaccountable. 
We said a prayer for her, 
And still, “the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.” *

And our words were cut short;
We were carried apart.
Safe travels, my friend,
For now the miles of highway return me home again.


* Quotation from the end of  F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby"

The Milwaukee Hardcore Blues

Another Audacity acoustic demo (no click track). Just a song about the frustrations of blue-collar working life, feeling far from attaining your dreams. I wrote it back in October 2012. On this demo I tried working out some 3-part harmonies (something I haven't done much before), and I'm pretty happy with the result, 

Lyrics:

The rains in October and cathartic and sober,
But sometimes I feel I have drunk a swill 
Too deeply of something nostalgic and weary
And sad as the wind on the hills.

I know I’m still young and my life’s just begun –
Twenty-two, still adrift and naïve.
They said “Get a degree,” and I still can’t believe
How four years blew away like the leaves.

But work is oh so difficult to find –
These days
The world will devour you alive.
Good luck,
And welcome to the struggle to survive.
No white-collar dreams for me today;
I drive the truck.

Drive! Drive! Drive! Drive!
Drive! Drive! I drive the truck.

The days of October are soon to be over,
Mighty wheels still rumbling on the highway.
The trees like vermillion and saffron pavilions
Pitched under a ponderous gray sky.

Though I cannot pretend that this toil and without end
Is the slightest bit high and romantic, no,
Still, would it be so wrong to enshrine it in song,
Hoping maybe that might make it so?

But work and pay are playing on my pride –
These days
Will rush to drown you like the tide.
Buckle up,
And welcome to the workingman’s life.
No white-collar anthem to proclaim;
I drive the truck.

Drive! Drive! Drive! Drive!
Drive! Drive! I drive the truck.

And driving home from work last night
My headlights caught the leaves;
In halos cast by halogen
They blazed like sparks a’swirl.
And day by day new images 
Are burned into my memory,
Ripe with significance I cannot place…
And, honey, I’ve still got these rock’n’roll dreams.

Drive

This site will serve as a hub for my various music projects. 

Sub-G

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