“Seems like nothing ever comes to no good
up on Choctaw Ridge”
My arranger keyboard is a synthesizer
but it’s not called a synthesizer workstation
because in the marketplace, as an abstraction,
it’s intended for a music organizer
not a sound designer. I think one is wiser—
The sound designer can sell his craft creation
to anyone who needs a noisy sensation.
And noise sells. Because noise is an equalizer.
Flowers dropped off a bridge into a river below
do not make any noise (but they might make a song).
Cars on a bridge like water over rocks make noise.
Sound designers play synth workstations and they know
they have a future, they fit in and they belong—
Because toys make noise and everyone loves their toys.
but it’s not called a synthesizer workstation
because in the marketplace, as an abstraction,
it’s intended for a music organizer
not a sound designer. I think one is wiser—
The sound designer can sell his craft creation
to anyone who needs a noisy sensation.
And noise sells. Because noise is an equalizer.
Flowers dropped off a bridge into a river below
do not make any noise (but they might make a song).
Cars on a bridge like water over rocks make noise.
Sound designers play synth workstations and they know
they have a future, they fit in and they belong—
Because toys make noise and everyone loves their toys.
“And, me, I spend a lot of time picking flowers
up on Choctaw Ridge
And dropping them into the muddy water
off the Tallahatchie Bridge”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“Ode to Billie Joe” at Wikipedia
*
On Not Playing A Synth Workstation #2
Knobs
Pedals, Patches And A Composer
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