Iconoclasm

Mental Nest - compose a blog

Телепатия

Fuggo.

Inkl. många "hick" och smått ironiska (idiotiska) modulationer.

Fattus Nihil

Counterallegations

Striking Lullaby

En tonsatt historia, om fyraåriga Majvis som upprepade gånger rymmer och bryter sig in på sin bästis dagis för att vara med och leka. Och körs ut igen. Om saknad, envishet, hopp och käftsmällar.

En Fyraåring Bryter Sig In På Sin Bästis Dagis

A spontaneously recorded, barely edited song about messaging people, in the most unspontaneous way possible. About editing messages in infinitum absurdum, changing a word here and there until you lose the intuitive grasp of what you actually want to say, until you’re no longer able to tell whether it’s genuine or not – until it becomes a kind of semantic Frankenstein. As if this wasn’t awkward enough... You have to pick which stories you want to share, or else you’ll overshare.  Yet, the stories you end up not sharing have an uncanny tendency of growing into truths, but now you’re out of space and you’ll never be able to share them. And there you are, getting crushed under the weight of stories that suddenly seem to matter so much more than the numbingly apprehensively edited Frankensteins you dared to share. You know what I mean? To contrast the moral of it, this song is unfinished and sketchy. Written and performed by me.

Lyrics:

There’s a story that I’ve told
Yet another one that matters 
(Send it, post it, say it, amend it 
Post it, say it, extend it)
There’s a reason that I’ve sold
Yet another one that shatters 
these suspicions gonna make a comeback 
Grow
Nah?

There’s a story that you told
Yet another one that matters 

Send it, post it, say it hit send it, post it, say it hit send it, post it, say it hit...
When will it even make a difference

Rewriting every line
Editing my thoughts to make them mine
Mincing every meaning so it fits just fine
Rehashing every line 
Dissecting my point to change its spine
I think that I’ve just sent you a frankenstein

There’s a story that you told
Yet another one that matters 

There’s a reason that I’ve sold
Yet another one that shatters 
suspicions gonna make a comeback 

There’s a story that you told
Yet another one that matters 

Maul all my memories
Refine and rewind my reveries
Flay and flaunt my feelings 
and use them as accessories
Undoing every urge
Dodging my desires to make them surge
Modifying my aversions to let questionmarks emerge

Rewriting every line
Editing my thoughts to make them mine
I think that I’ve just sent you a frankenstein
Um um

There’s a story that I’ve told
Yet another one that matters 
There’s a reason that I’ve sold
Yet another one that shatters 
these suspicions gonna make a comeback
Grow
Now?

There’s a story that you told
Yet another one that matters 

Nana nana nana

Thoughts turn to sentences 
Turning into tools and fences
Words feel like nails and bolts 
You only read my defences  
Oughts turn to sentences 
Turning into tools and fences
Words feel like nails and bolts 
You only read my pretenses

There’s a story that I’ve told
Yet another one that matters 
There’s a reason that I’ve told
Yet another one that matters 

There’s a story that I’ve taught
Yet another one that matters 
Grows and matters more
There’s a reason that I’ve sought
Yet another one that shatters 
these suspicions and 
There’s another way that could be found 
If we just keep talking day by day

There’s a story that I’ve told
Yet another one that matters 
Grows and matters more
There’s a reason that I’ve sold
Yet another one that shatters 
these suspicions and 
There’s another way that could be found 
If we just keep talking day by day

There’s a story that I’ve sold
Yet another one that matters

Another Story Matters

Another question mark, another sketchy, spontaneously written and recorded song, on doubting, sarcasm, impudence and commitment issues... It’s midnight and my voice is a little strained, since I’m in the process of processing doubts concerning whether my friend’s enthusiasm is sincere or not, and whether it’s worth the fuss to commit to devotions, emotions and what not. It’s easy and pleasant to care infinitely much for a few seconds and then forget all about it. So, could it be that commitment and care is a zero-sum-game? Written and performed by me.

Recorded in Chisinau, August 2019.

Lyrics:

I think I have to share another question mark with you 

Apprehending your enthusiasm
A mere phantasm 
Since I’m sensing your indifference
Exacted by my reverence

Perhaps I should start an iconoclasm
This neoplasm 
Has grown malignant and intense 
My exaltation makes me tense 

So I tried committing to my own devotions 
They ended up turning into distortions
How could the yearning for my dreams depose me further from my mind 
and leave me rattling in my disbeliefs
 
I tried committing to my own emotions
They ended up turning into extortions
How could the yearning for my soul 
Depose me further from my mind 
And leave me shackled to my disbeliefs 
Still feel I have to share another question mark with you 

Each regret will hit me like a spasm
I need sarcasm 
Or else the pain turns into evidence
A telling kind of impudence 

Apprehending your enthusiasm
A mere phantasm 
Since I’m sensing your indifference
Enacted by my reverence 

So I tried committing to my own devotions 
They ended up turning into extortions
How could the yearning for my dreams depose me further from my mind
And leave me rattling in my disbeliefs

I tried to follow through to my own devotions
They ended up turning into distortions
How could the yearning for my dreams leave my desires way behind
And leave me shackled to my disbeliefs 

I give up
I have zero expectations
Still I go on
And I run in joy

I let go
I don’t crave any answers
Still I feel joy 
Every time I ask

So I tried committing to my own devotions 
They ended up turning into distortions
I started tweaking my desires to spur me faster to my goals 
And render fantasies offering relief 

I tried committing to my own emotions
They ended up turning into extortions
How could the yearning of my dreams depose me further from my mind
And leave me shackled to my disbeliefs

Still I need to share another question mark with you 

Perhaps I should start an iconoclasm
This neoplasm
Has grown malignant and intense 
My exaltation makes me tense 

You see each single message that I send 
Feels like the end 
Still I do cherish to my temptation 
To propel my inspiration

So I tried committing to my own devotions
They ended up turning into distortions
How could the yearning for my dreams leave my desires way behind
And leave me rattling in my disbeliefs 

I tried committing to my own emotions
They ended up turning into extortions
How could the yearning for my dreams depose me further from my mind
And leave me shackled to my disbeliefs

Apprehending Your Enthusiasm

There’s this person, a friend of a friend... Long story short: I found her Spotify playlists. 

Written and performed by me. Unmixed! Recorded in Chisinau, August 2019. Sketch.

Lyrics:

And I know the hell you’ve been through

Sometimes I dream about seeing you at a café 
And then we’d walk out as best friends 
And then we’d laugh for hours
And have so much in common
We’d joke about everything 
Cry at the same songs

I know the hell you have been through

Hey stranger 
I wish I knew you
Hey stranger
I wish you did too
And I know the hell you’ve been through 
Since I’ve just started to taste it

Hey stranger 
I wish I knew you
Hey stranger
I wish you did too
We’re both covered in shades
Of the same despair 

I’d follow you 
And you would follow me
We might analyze movies 
And try to find my key
Travel to places 
And get lost in the woods 
Play some boisterous music 
To prank the neighborhoods
I imagine them hells you’ve been through
Since I listen to the music that heals you

Hey stranger 
I need to know you
Hey stranger
I wish you did too
Now I’ll pay a salute to you
I imagine the hell you went through

The very same hell I’ve just started to taste
My real imaginary friend
Oh what a waste

I’d comfort you 
And you would comfort me
And show how to forget and forgive 
And how to see 
Where things went wrong 
And where it’s just meant to be 
As f*cked up as it is
And how to just let it be
Imagine the hell you’ve been through
And what music that heals you

Hey stranger 
I need to ask you
(Aha)
Hey stranger
How did you get through
(I hear you)

I’m about to get stuck 
In the hell that you’ve lost 
(What)

Hey stranger
How did you move on
(Just passed through)
Hey stranger
How do you have fun
(Hahaha)
I just wonder how are you now 
Cuz I guess I feel the same

I know what happened to you
I know who did it
I’ve listened to your playlist on Spotify
Mmm
I know the hell you’ve been though
Since he’s causing me troubles too

A headache

“Hey stranger I wish I knew you since I’ve listened to your Spotify playlists”

Here’s a taste of what a fully mixed version of “Another Story Matters” might sound like. But this polished version doesn’t correspond with the fundamental idea of the song: doubt and over-editing. Here it sounds too grounded, confident and self-contained.  

The (my) cloudy heart says ”let me borrow your contours”. However, this majestically mixed version with its towering chorus pierced by protrusive dominant intervals screams “fuck off, I don’t need anyone’s contours cuz I’m perfectly fine with my own”. That’s appallingly sassy. Bombastic. On the nose. I want it to be fragile, translucent and indiscernible. It’s “Another Story Matters”, not “This Story Matters”.

This Story Matters – a fully mixed version of my heart

Musikalisk idéblogg. 
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Jag förstår, bearbetar och reagerar på saker och ting genom att hitta på soundtrack till allt som händer runt och i mig. Allt ska skildras.

Vinglar syrran runt på styltor? Stapplande melodi till det, i huvudet. 
Drömde jag att det var brontosaurusinvasion i Uppsala? Höh, kaos, ran-tan-di-ta-ti-da-taa...
Tappade jag min kära iPad (det första jag gjorde när jag äntligen, kl. 04.35,  hade lyckats ta mig fram till Prag) på kullerstenar så att skärmen sprack i tusen bitar? Sorgsen sonat infinner sig i mitt sinne, varav några fragment kanske letar sig in i något av det jag lägger upp här. 

Dessa fragment förbifartsslarvar jag ner med hjälp av diverse notationsprogram på min iPad, vilket resulterar i att det dyker upp lite röriga, spretiga, osammanhängande verk av alldeles, alldeles vedervärdig ljudkvalité här, från och till.

En Fyraåring Bryter Sig In På Sin Bästis Dagis

Tyst von Skrik