Moonlight
Above a dark street
Below a streetlight
That switches off
Music
Played on a guitar
Sung in a soft voice
Measures time at night
Sunlight
Comes from the music
Or with the music
And night retreats
*
So recently I made up that little melody on guitar. I usually harmonize it simply, something like:
G G E F#
G G E F#
G G B A
G
But the fun of a simple melody is playing it out, then modifying the rhythm a little and then maybe a little more and seeing just how much you can change things around or add substitution chords while still keeping the basic sense of the melody and harmony.
After I made up the melody on guitar I moved over to a keyboard for a while. On the keyboard I could play this with automated accompaniment and experimenting with all manner of instrument sounds.
But after not too long at the keyboard I switched it off and went back to guitar.
I like technology and I love all the amazing options a keyboard workstation provides. But at the same time I experience—just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean—I experience the same intensity of pleasure musically just sitting on my bed finger-picking my guitar and singing along as I play.
And the world seems to turn toward dawn just as fast regardless of if I’m strictly acoustic or if I’m keeping time along with digital signal processors.
Sometimes if I don’t play or sing anything at all I get the feeling—just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean—that time has slowed down or even stopped and dawn will never come.
It’s especially nice on those kind of nights just to pick up a guitar and stay acoustic and play something and maybe sing something. It seems, then, that just fingers brushing against steel strings and just six thin strings vibrating can make the whole Earth get to spinning around again.
A digital workstation, unlike an acoustic instrument, can record a performance very easily. But pressing PLAY, then, is entirely different from actually playing something.
Or so it seems just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean.
I wonder about that last thing. I actually mean it objectively and not just subjectively but it is hard to think of how or to imagine how I might prove it so I guess it’s best to phrase it as just a subjective, personal observation.
But the mad scientist in me would be happy testing it, somehow—
Maybe in a mad scientist type of laboratory overflowing with sparking gadgets that buzz and hiss, and a wild-eyed scientist crafting together the most complicated digital recorder anyone has ever imagined, and pressing the PLAY button, and having the whole Earth grind to a halt, or having the crust start slipping around the core, and mountains crumbling, and oceans sloshing over continents.
I’d just give a mad scientist laugh and spread my arms and yell, “See!”
Above a dark street
Below a streetlight
That switches off
Music
Played on a guitar
Sung in a soft voice
Measures time at night
Sunlight
Comes from the music
Or with the music
And night retreats
*
So recently I made up that little melody on guitar. I usually harmonize it simply, something like:
G G E F#
G G E F#
G G B A
G
But the fun of a simple melody is playing it out, then modifying the rhythm a little and then maybe a little more and seeing just how much you can change things around or add substitution chords while still keeping the basic sense of the melody and harmony.
After I made up the melody on guitar I moved over to a keyboard for a while. On the keyboard I could play this with automated accompaniment and experimenting with all manner of instrument sounds.
But after not too long at the keyboard I switched it off and went back to guitar.
I like technology and I love all the amazing options a keyboard workstation provides. But at the same time I experience—just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean—I experience the same intensity of pleasure musically just sitting on my bed finger-picking my guitar and singing along as I play.
And the world seems to turn toward dawn just as fast regardless of if I’m strictly acoustic or if I’m keeping time along with digital signal processors.
Sometimes if I don’t play or sing anything at all I get the feeling—just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean—that time has slowed down or even stopped and dawn will never come.
It’s especially nice on those kind of nights just to pick up a guitar and stay acoustic and play something and maybe sing something. It seems, then, that just fingers brushing against steel strings and just six thin strings vibrating can make the whole Earth get to spinning around again.
A digital workstation, unlike an acoustic instrument, can record a performance very easily. But pressing PLAY, then, is entirely different from actually playing something.
Or so it seems just subjectively I mean, just personally I mean.
I wonder about that last thing. I actually mean it objectively and not just subjectively but it is hard to think of how or to imagine how I might prove it so I guess it’s best to phrase it as just a subjective, personal observation.
But the mad scientist in me would be happy testing it, somehow—
Maybe in a mad scientist type of laboratory overflowing with sparking gadgets that buzz and hiss, and a wild-eyed scientist crafting together the most complicated digital recorder anyone has ever imagined, and pressing the PLAY button, and having the whole Earth grind to a halt, or having the crust start slipping around the core, and mountains crumbling, and oceans sloshing over continents.
I’d just give a mad scientist laugh and spread my arms and yell, “See!”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
On the Cover: The Rise of Deadmau5
at Rolling Stone
Deadmau5 Clarifies 'Press Play' Comments About Fellow DJs
at Rolling Stone
“we all hit play”
at the Deadmau5 Tumblr
*
Merica Uns On Unkin
The Mad Scientist And The Dawn Chorus
On The Edges Of A Dawn Chorus
Aberrant Forms
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