1%

I’m a screaming siren
And a call to revolution
Nothing evolution can hold back this rage

People dying in the streets
People praying in the pews
That those others will not be saved

I’m a call to arms
And a guillotine cut
Nothing but a good time
When the 1% are fucked

People dying from need
Of basic help and belief
When the time comes you are next

If you cannot pay the rent
Or struggle for food
Freedom is concept you already lose

I’m a call to arms
And a guillotine cut
Nothing but a good time
When the 1% are fucked

(spoken)
I’m a fury rising from the sand
A lucifer to bring the flame
A cry at night impassioned flight
This is not what we should be

I’m a call to arms
And a guillotine cut
Nothing but a good time
When the 1% are fucked

If you’re hearing my call
And you do nothing at all
You are the problem, you’re nothing at all

If you think some liberal shit
Will solve all of it
You are the problem, you’re nothing at all

I’m a call to arms
And a guillotine cut
Nothing but a good time
When the 1% are fucked

Nothing short of revolution
Will make a constitution
Nothing ain’t worth nothing if you won’t fight for it

Hiding in your house
Like a frightened tiny mouse
Won’t make nothing change as we see

I’m a call to arms
And a guillotine cut
Nothing but a good time
When the 1% are fucked

I’m a call to arms
(let me hold you to me)
A guillotine cut
(let it run right through me)
Nothing but a good time
(let it be the rhyme)
when the 1% are fucked
(let’s make it all time)

Micro

Depression kicks like a Nazi in the tube station
somewhere around midnight
brown boots and leather
the crass spill of the takeaway
and unopened wine
some guttural call
to toxic men
kicks to the face and bravery in numbers
Nazis wear blue and you called them
to beat down the broken
to undefend the defenseless
who lie in unfailing truth
some vicious scream to conformity
and deference to authority
and depression demands
the deserving

with thanks to The Jam for suggesting some of the imagery. I wrote this in under 2 minutes so please excuse its primitive nature

Making Music

Please excuse my relative absence here for now. I’m working on writing and recording a number of songs (and I will be sharing here). It’s a mix of electro-industrial, futurepop (thank you VNV Nation for coining that name), and oddball pop with a bit of hiphop and punk/metal crossover thrown in – not all genres in the same work though. It all takes time as most of what I am doing involves multiple tracks which then need mixing. Making music is a time consuming process, writing lyrics can be quite emotionally draining. It’s been a lot of years since I last did this seriously, and things have changed a bit so I value your patience.

And unfortunately work (the day job) is also taking up a fair portion of my waking hours right now. On the other hand my studio is now in good enough shape to at least begin the process. New Les Paul guitar, effects, good quality midi controller (and DAW software), decent vocal mic etc are in place. Eventually I would like to add a bass guitar, an electric violin (you should hear some of the awesome things you can do with these run through guitar effects), more VST plugins etc.., It all costs money and I’m not a rich man. But I’m hoping that it turns out well with what I have now and that I will be able to help provide you with both entertainment and some food for thought.

The creation process itself is fraught with ups and downs. I rely heavily on inspiration and years of training as a classical musician — not to mention quite a few as a working musician but it’s been a while. If I’m not feeling it I simply cannot write at that time. All that can add up pretty quickly when you’re working a day job and not sleeping. But it’s a work in progress and I do expect to be able to post a few things soon. My influences run the gamut of almost everything (although I’m sadly incapable of writing reggae). From Bach to Behemoth, from Carcass to the Cure, from Peter and the Test Tube Babies to Pink. You get the picture. The one thing I really struggle with is writing drum tracks. ISO drum programmer (not entirely kidding about that)?

All in all it’s coming along and I’m holding back a lot of poetry/lyrics so as to introduce them as fully fledged songs. Lyrically they run the range from deeply personal to working class activism, with a fair bit of reference to varying mythologies as well. So again, thank you for your patience as I go through this creative process. I truly hope you will enjoy the results.

Fractured (lyric)

You will return now
To the life that you lived
Passionless greyness
That has nothing to give
It’s safe but it’s boring
And it eats at your soul
Just going through motions
As you sink in the hole

You can change your location
You can change where you rest
But the emptiness grows still
Until nothing is left
Change your name or your hairstyle
And pretend that you’re fine
Behind the mask of a sad smile
That doesn’t show in your eyes

You’re fractured
But you’ll still say you’re fine
Swallowing the pain that holds you tight
You’re fractured
But you’ll lie to yourself
The ache that sits heavily inside

You’ll smile at all the right places
Let out a cold shallow laugh
But the anguish will eat you
Can’t sort the wheat from the chaff
As the years take your beauty
And the lines cross your face
The despondency growing
Feeling more out of place

You used to tell me
of the dullness inside
but you’re cloaking your feelings
desperate just to hide
Your sadness will rise like
the bitter taste of defeat
but you’ll stay in that lost life
all your days on repeat

You’re fractured
But you’ll still say you’re fine
Swallowing the pain that holds you tight
You’re fractured
But you’ll lie to yourself
The ache that sits heavily inside

Your existence is empty
As you often said
In those moments spent with me
Lying there in that bed
And you don’t know where you’re going
You can’t escape from the numb
It’s continuing dreary
And you have nowhere to run

Your world will grow colder
With each passing day
As you wonder what happened
But you have nothing to say
So you’ll live in the silence
Of a life that turned sour
Regretting all of the years gone
Unease haunting each hour

You’re fractured
But you’ll still say you’re fine
Swallowing the pain that holds you tight
You’re fractured
But you’ll lie to yourself
The ache that sits heavily inside

You’re fractured
But you’ll still say you’re fine
Swallowing the pain that holds you tight
You’re fractured
But you’ll lie to yourself
The ache that sits heavily inside


Actuality

In five years or ten or fifty or one hundred
or maybe next week
we are forgotten and gone
our lives less meaningful in the vastness
than that of the amoeba to us
The universe does not care or notice
our brief existence
our feelings and thoughts, our acts and deeds, or hopes and dreams
without the slightest significance
to think otherwise is the height of arrogance
or narcissistic vanity
We are less than the space between the stars
of smaller import than the deepest void
lost and wavering in the death of god
and the realisation of futility
There is no greater meaning here
our reason and emotion no more than
ephemera on the solar wind
the ragged discards of empty existence
the essence of being as inconsequential
as the nothingness of abandonment to entropy

Fall

Autumn leaves are turning now
the hills awash with gold and red
rich purple waiting on winter’s break
a vibrance Vincent could have painted
on the landscape under starlight
Autumn leaves are old parchment in my hands
dry rustling in forgotten corners
fragile falling and crumbling
bygone reminders of spring
tossed in eddies and breezes
Autumn leaves are signs of winter’s march
and when the first snow flies they vanish
in frosty cloaks concealed ‘til thaw
hidden love letters to sun and warmth
and I will miss these things
when autumn leaves

Crackle

I rise in the pre-dawn hour before the faintest light
the darkness brings strange shapes to familiar forms
and I am the stranger in this town
Sewers run atop the streets and roads unseen
the crass reminders of unequal distribution and
entrenched power
I can rail against this shit all day
the misogyny and racism, the transphobia and hate
but I’m preaching to the converted
or the vulnerable
and I want to fuck you or just hold you close
Shimmering violence decades renounced
but words have power too
the trees find monstrous forms in the gloom
I will not be a part of this romance
I cannot ever take that chance
I will scream, I will defy, I will do anything I can
but I am impotent against the world
Like a cock-soft motherfucker with delusions of porn
and the worship of war
seeing people as either enemies or potential non-consensual
fuckmates — and I want no part of either
and unable to discern between the two
It’s all exquisite taste and fucking lies
Writhing in shit and bile
And rape and violence and macho insecurity
I want for nothing in the pre-dawn hour
One foot follows another
This is what I do
I walk
I tread
The soles of my shoes wear thin in endless steps
I think of you and how I would like to
Hold you/fuck you/cry into your breast
Laugh at myself
Laugh
La fin

Convulse

It’s hard to hear through the static
the radio tuned to a dead station
and people who can’t tell the difference between
Fucking and fighting
in bedrooms and alleyways
until they settle for a passionless toil
defiant screams becoming despairing sobs
and people are drowning in the shit that flows
through airwaves and streets as they buy-buy-buy
consuming planned obsolescence
and obedience
more obscene than words or naked forms
could ever hope to be
They’re staring at the sun and burning out their eyes
while their souls are cloistered and closed
don’t wear that shirt because it will offend
but don’t go naked either
only rocking the boat can save
the ones who cling fragile to the edges

Caress

I’m going to sew shut my mouth
with dental floss and lost needles
and a lack of anaesthesia
My hazel eyes should say it all
but nobody sees them
as they change from blue to green to brown
I’ll sing through those lips
that none can hear
Tongue trapped in amber or oil
I wish I could fuck you
I wish I could do so many things
that do not define the world
our worlds are bounded by our
preferences or love or bigotry
I will rage in the fire of your love
Only to find the ashes of a fire gone
And in this core, me
I, who has failed
I, who has let down
I, who has disappointed
I, who despite that, am barely human
Or moreso
I am the scream of defiance and the soft surrender
I am the beginning and the end
Alpha and Omega
Begone or accept
This last caress

Endearment

Hold me under the water, cut away the emptiness
the makeup I used to wear is faded and gone
My eyes now lined not by pencil but life
correct my fucking defects
as you will
Tear my flesh to make me real
rip great gouges in my soul
and show me where humanity lies
and humanity lies
lies
lies
I cannot distance myself on my own
the missing knight on the chessboard calls
lost without his horse or tackle
tilting at windmills while Sancho Panza
looks on in awe and sadness
I lost my touch like a crippled Christ
no longer healing but trying despite
The followers who distort and fail
if I could take my own advice
if I could take
if I could
if I
Fallen like a broken god
all pale skin and crimson gashes
And no believers left
Your funeral mouth mouths words
Without meaning or import
This is where kisses go to die