Bumping Into... is a series of mini-chats with a variety of peeps that you might run into in some of our local music communities. (There's a bit of an intro and my thoughts behind the series here.)
What have you been up to since March or so?
Okay, well, March 20th saw the release of what was, at that point in time, my favourite collection of music to date. I think this becomes true anytime I make music that feels particularly private, vulnerable, or earnest. But wow! I recorded this album and released it into the world and even took it on walks through the park. As I tried to indicate for the press in the album cover, Folk Music is rooted in poetry. stories, and various sounds. I momentarily returned to singing, which felt good and real.
'Meemydreemanai' (me, my dream, and I), a wish and then, poof, a springtime curse. It went like this:
"I WOULD
LIKE A DREAM
IN WHICH I MAKETHROUGH MAGIC OR FREE WILL
MINUTE MOVEMENT
OR THE ETERNAL REELING IN
(A LINE
NOT WITHSTANDING
A LIMIT
LEFT UNCOUTH)THROUGH MAGIC OR FREE WILL
AN OCEANIC PRESENT
FOR MEMORY I HIDETHROUGH MAGIC OR FREE WILL
SURPRISE ME WHEN I FALL"
And just like that, I fell.
March 30: my birthday, my cancelled trip abroad, and my last day of 'work'. In hindsight, I wish I shared this with more friends and peers when it happened (in fact, I don't even know whether or not this is the first time I even told you about it), but I guess I was in some kind of confused state of shock or in-between space of not knowing what to do for a lOoOong time...I was a little lost. The next few months were some of the most challenging for me. The whole time I reminded myself that it was something everybody was going through, and I quickly recognized that for many people it was far worse than my situation. I think I was often wrapped up in conflict about how much weight I could hold on my shoulders, like a web of interconnected factors from all directions that was entirely overwhelming. I should've talked about it more with others, and sometimes I did open up (with fellow artists especially), but most of the time I didn't really know what to say or do. I did a lot of things that didn't help and a lot of things that did.
At the time of writing this, I'm smiling and I'm feeling okay. I still find some days that surprise me with spontaneous moodswings and feelings of utter 'blah'-ness that I'm sure is just part of being stuck in the collective trauma sludge zone (??? what is it really called???). Anyway, I pledge my allegiance to the 'one day at a time' club. More on moodswings later.
I read a LOT and had a brief stint of this ridiculous online gaming world (like soccer with flying monster trucks...). It was weird and not like me, but I would listen to hours of basically self-help podcasts into the night and drive around with awfully vulgar people online. 'Playing' with all these real people in real time was a total solace, and that definitely wasn't an obvious thing going into it. It was a time.
Some personal research on psychogeography throughout the past year or so had enough influence on me to eventually yield an album I called Deep Topography, a reflection that I put to paper and sound in May. Although it was an entirely instrumental album, it followed some heavy realizations (at the time still very subtle) that music was an essential part of my well-being, and at the end of the day, I was/am making it in order to survive. Surely I am not alone in having such a feeling or late/repeat epiphany, and so I release an album for those who connect. A poem accompanies the album:
"Investigating
adrift outer fringes
off beaten track
record & reel
too real
hand without a map
developing
inner & outer
peace
navigating
to & from
peace
meditating
high above & far beyond
peace
making
or trying to make
peace
exploring
7 pieces
total spontaneous
ley lines leading life
indeterminately
in any direction & in order
to be open
to all
uncertainties & everything just
to survive."
It started to get warmer out and although I was still finding myself in mostly muddy territories of every day, o holy Toronto beaches of Lake Ontario revealed themselves to me for the season and welcomed me with open arms. I alternated between reading and swimming, reading and swimming, etc., and things started to not seem so bad. You might even consider me lucky. I am lucky, though at the time it was still a lot of ups and downs, and surely certain friends were tired of hearing about it, while a few others could relate. We need each other!
'ANOTHER DAY', a poem/song from And The Spontaneous Splash Pad Poetry Of Applied Linguistics And Living (my first self-published collection of recorded poetry slash super illegal album of uncleared samples I collaged together from a bunch of my favourite songs) is a straight mobile text message response to a good friend who was just checking in. Sent in May, recorded in June or July. I guess it has to do with the still fresh and lingering wound of losing my job and being 'a little lost'. You can tell from the very first words that I'm still in a sort of denial at the time of writing, but also beginning to unravel all the various layers of what exactly it means to be 'working'. You might even notice a certain quality to my voice on this album that sounds like the voice of a person forcing themselves to make a musical voice memo of what the heck is going on. Anyway, here is 'ANOTHER DAY':
"I am working - today is another day where I don't I know what my job description is, yet I continue to exert myself so as not to unwork. I blend frozen fruit as loudly as I can, electrically.
I also look for opportunities to make eye contact with fellow heat seekers on the masked sidewalk. We miss each other while missing each other. I read books."
In a similarly diaristic fashion, 'BALCONY BLUES' is also a record of what was just an average day for me at that point in time, with no sugar-coating or cinnamon glaze to be added. The part about 'this music' refers to whatever was on my stereo at the time, but also the sounds I was making myself, and could be uttered with the same kind of emphasis we used when we say things like 'oh my gosh, this cake is delicious!' like it's a one-of-a-kind thing (cake), just about music as a wondrous thing that I can't possibly fathom. This music! What is this thing? You know what I mean? It goes like this:
'It is or is not raining - the humid evidence drips - the water slides down the building eavesdrop to the soil below - I wonder if this is 1 way to grow - maybe this music is what you are - after today.'
I also wrote and sort of chanted a reminder to keep 'TRYING'. I would've liked to have different voices join in on the echos and refrains, but it's just a couple layers of my own voice, maybe like someone who is wanting to help themselves but also a little out of control. This is truly deep-end microphonic therapy to a buzzed out loop of a famous Toronto rock band riff.
'Trying!
Mood swings
Forward high
Middle low
Backward high
Don’t let go!'
Okay, let's fast-forward a little bit more. In the spirit of trying, in October I released maybe my most ambitious album to date, Imagination Fever. This was actually months/years in the making, but other sounds that were coming to the surface (like the ones above) kept feeling more immediately prevalent. Heavy on the keyboards and drum-machines, and mostly on the 'upbeat' side of things, the premise of 'Imagination Fever' is simple. If you've read this far then you'll know that it was the very obvious next creative offering to be. It beings with a lengthy declaration, stealthily disguised as a poem:
"I TRIED
TO IMAGINE
A LIFE REPLETEWITH LOVE
AND
ALL MUSICALLY NEATI TRIED
TO LIVE INSIDE
A DREAM WITHOUT
AN ENDI ALWAYS TRY
TO HAVE THAT
DREAM AGAINIMAGINATION FEVER
OH I NEED YOU NOW
CREATIVE HIGHS
AN ARTIST’S DREAM
EVERY COLOUR REALIZEDOH WHAT BEAUTY
MAGIC SORCERY
WILD TRIATHLON
LOVE, ART, MUSIC
ALL IN FULL BLOOM
PARADE THE STREETS
REJOICE!OH WHAT A FEELING
COMING DOWN
WITH ONEIMAGINATION FEVER
NEVER COMING UNDONEIMAGINATION FEVER
PLEASE NEVER COME UNDONEIMAGINATION FEVER
NEVER-ENDING ONEIMAGINATION FEVER
HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN."
Love, art, music, all in full bloom. This album is my 'love letter' to imagination. It might sound like what I feel like at my most far-out periods of imaginative thought, or perhaps the melodies and rhythms reflect the continuous movement of this life. I've learned that movement is everything, especially when we feel stuck or don't know what that next 'move' is. That being said, maybe the album acts as more of a sonic prayer to art, or a call to creative arms. The introductory poem itself could easily be seen as being overly romantic, but the over-the-top or extravagant tone that suggests this interpretation (or criticism) is only there to express these feelings of unabashed hope, desire, gratitude, longing (etc. etc. etc.!) towards all things art. Despite there being a climactic title track in the middle of the album that aims to sum up all the things that these words can't convey (hence a return to instrumental album), perhaps the song 'Me & Art' is the definitive sonic feeling that I relate to most after all is said and done.
So, in a nutshell, that's more or less what I've been up to since March. I continue to work on new music, new art, new ways of being a better person, and taking care of the other.
Have you found any new ways to do old things? How are you feeling about the shifts in how music is being made/shared/listened to?
New ways to do old things...well, I guess you're already aware that I moved into a new space downtown a couple months ago, with a lovely energy to share the days with, so I've been doing pretty much all of the old things in what feels like mostly new ways. I often hear the sounds of humming to the music that's playing (or not playing), which is something my senses are still adapting to and making room for. If music is indeed best enjoyed together, then let it be enjoyed in such a way...
As far as shifts in how music is being made/shared/listened to...I don't really know. I love John Cage with a healthy portion of my heart, but I will also say that I hope people are finding more value in recorded music these days, not just to experience in the absence of going out to live concerts, but also as a means of keeping a record of life and learning more about the people around us. I really believe we can get to know a person in a surprisingly meaningful way through experiencing their art, no matter how abstract it might appear to be (i.e. sometimes how we do something says more about us than what we do). Or there's just a certain feeling, you know?
Let's talk more about this later.
Any works of art that have been a light for you in these times? Anything that's just been a good diversion?
Haven't I already said too much? We'll talk about this another time, I'm sure.
How are you feeling about 2021?
Ultimately, I'm an optimist. How can you not feel like any new year brings about new spirits? This whole spontaneous occasion of bumping into you has been me talking about new ways of living, being with each other, exploring, listening, creating, etc etc etc. Going into 2021, I've been reflecting a lot on the meaning of 'Today Versions', and dedicating myself further to love, creative action, and persistent art. I'm also really looking forward to having deeper and more intimate conversations about music and art with other people in the community, including creative peers I might not be so close with. If you've read this far, you'll have realized how much more interesting it would be if you were able to share how you feel or relate (or not) about some of the things I've said, and actually, if you do, feel free to 'bump into' me too. There's several chats I had with artists (mostly on the phone or at the park) at various points throughout this year that I really wish I had recorded. Something about the way we worked out our ideas together, the ways we've been adapting/adjusting/navigating through the days, etc., that seemed to bring out a certain 'inner fire' or soulful movement that was always contagious and inspiring. This kind of thing might require us to be together in some way though, so...yeah, what was I saying? I hope for more of this and I just think that when we do get back together, we'll really be together, you know?
Anything else we'd chat about if we bumped into each other?
Probably something related to Yo La Tengo... or just a silent headnod and a smile to acknowledge the great fact that we're sharing the same space : ] . Thanks so much for keeping Mechanical Forest Sound alive and well, and thank you for listening.
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