you”ll think i.e. /ve thought / something similar

PART /: you”ll think i.e.

On 13th December 2014, EXPLORER released MEMORIES/FANTASY. It’s a timeless number; each track could be the soundtrack to a prolonging deja-vu: the good kind though: the one in which you exclaim with a jerk of the knee because you just found things did what things did because you love what you love and you’re just big happy that the time passed without being reminded of something random like the fact that you’re never gonna ____ and that things are never going to ____

Like the feeling you get when your head gets swaying and the weather’s out loud and the thoughts don’t even need to try

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That Wave

A sure fire way to catch this blogger’s intention is to submit music that sounds somehow similar to Modest Mouse or Broken Social Scene. These are no easily pleased feet; those two bands possess a subtlety in terms of their popularity and appeal. This artist does the latter. And it’s a tongue in my cheek that lets me blindly open a complementary post on a budding multi-instrumentalist with a band drop; a ‘similar artist’ spin. Something about doing that seems so shit these days. Every real moment of multi-music sounds like itself, not like something else… At least, that’s something I’d say to the 20xx idealist who sits in my ears and who wants everything green grey and blue, good, closable, true. So let’s move on

The first song picked me up on “I’ve found a middle way”. It then did a fifth dimensional thing and refrained and made “I’ve found a middle way” its refrain, no-one even asked it too, but it did so anyway and did it keenly into the grooves of an evening lull, now loving once more.
Found a middle way And it’s that way that has me on the third song of a collection called Keep Riding That Wave, that middle way, and I’m looking back at you, editing back at you, leaving enough time to progress and evolve, invisibly pressing enter again – it has me one the fourth song and the drums are in, that’s it, I’m soul’d: listen, burn it onto a disc, put it somewhere safe. AHH!

‘I’m soul’d’ I literally wrote that almost entirely because I was listening and I was singing along and the lyrics were saying something like “she’s alone”, which somehow sound some some kind of similarity between the syllables of being sold on something and of being alone retrospectively singing along in something like prose. This one’s got summer written all over it, the mechanics for your time machine in which songs are written and released unleashed in November and heard in June – you got it. Get it. Got it good ok SoundCloud where I listened. Bandcamp where you download^

Joppa Road, June [14th, 24th, xth]

June 14

Imagine shimagine, light drizzle, check you’ve got your keys wallet and some imaginary friend
imaginary shimaginary

is the rhyme in your palm beneath your fingers, clutched, the rhyming sound between your ears and your eyes when you’re learning to listen intently and you’re letting the other person’s thoughts and non-thoughts pour into your place.

without interruption

so let’s keep it short; keys, wallet, post, k, k, k;
and call these the musings of a man driving on Joppa Road, released in 1994 by Ween

s”you look great today”

June 24

“Honey you look great today”

It’s usually a huge trip when I wake up as I realise that the world still exists and all my memories and questions are still milling round a waiting room I came across the night before horizontal scraping at the air with two hands and one pillow, trying to wake up now feeling as real as trying to get to sleep.

The world needs no more metaphors, it already is one – two thoughts I had wander into a kitchen and sit down, sip quietly, circular dreams stirring and stirring and stirring until one breaks, the other listens.

If people want to put words to my music, that’s fine. If people want to dream to my music, that’s fine. There’s a thing about being really direct with your lyrics and there’s a thing about being indirect.

There’s an interview with Aaron Freeman from Ween on Nerdist where he talks about receiving creative input and critique from his son.

There’s this song which you can kind of tell is a cup of tea outside in the howling sea-howling wind on a stall and there’s this song which you can kind of tell is track 14 on a compilation CD or a beginning of side B on a cassette where the destination is a person or a place, the vehicle is a thought, stirring.

June x

Where all the word things go, the shapes you’d happily survey and scour like an imaginary line in the far distant sky. When you’re less heavily weighted on the waiting room of words, worlds of worlds of worlds before the moment in which things go hum

I hear Joppa Road playing lightly in my head, you do, we all do when we’re not listening to it. Every song has its wake and this one makes waking up easier, this one makes the numbers months and things days of the week easier, and the words, the words are easier somehow right now, but who wants easier?, as I imagine the fact that I will be able to listen to something


in the future; something with borders that go without saying, songs that go without saying, it inevitably turns June again, still listening?

You, Song, Stimming

Currently writing a novel about ‘you’ because I’m fancifully interested in linguistics and pronouns. One thing to love in English is how you can mean you as you understand yourself but then you can also mean you (guys).

Understanding you in the latter plural sense rather than for the beautiful individual you are; understanding yourselves like that (or whatever understanding means) made this Song by Stimming a hell of a lot engaging much such that tingles were/are taking turns upon my spinal chords. I guess until now, I’d always focused on the -you- that I am, the singular, 2 years again, this song has composed itself completely entirely anew – hey presto.

“You are the composer” of this song, the moment you press play, the moment you initiate experience entirely, constantly.

Breathe. Imagine us pressing play: picture it, feel it, find it, take turns – sleep at some point


God, You’re, Still, Alive, Just

It’s an interesting big-sky world in which people care: I just want to say I feel like this song cares about me and I guess that’s kind of weird because that makes the song sound like a person. Which we all know it isn’t. But I guess maybe you could say that some songs offer such experiences that feel as intimate as real people, standing before you, singing. Singeing one word too many in the post-experience hum, the nod, the re-read, the insertions of the dream-kind, coming back to the experience all over again without the thought that you’re ‘reliving’ anything in particular, but rather that you’ve been ‘reliving’ all the time.

Essentially, this all commas down to writing again, listening again, sharing again, and again, and again. This one’s a several cleared throats and a several verbs alive to say ‘thanks music, you did it again, keep it up and please let’s do this again soon’.

Yes, you, I’m talking to you Gravy Dayz by Caroline Says off an album that I downloaded to and addicted to from what feels like last year until now. You’re legend, one of the least worst addictions/myths and sometimes I think you’re the best legend. Here’s one to sustain a bipolar execution of ideas to an agreeable tempo with a guitar and a voice that sings like a well fed-up cap-wearing day in the summer with your sun hats and it’s long grass short legs sideways sunglasses nods and untying nots solemnly searing in the back – a release! An earlier one at that!

But this one can’t wait for more music and an album from Caroline Says.

Well taken, with time, learnt not to stigmatise the self: the music looks pretty like real things do, music that is both staccato and gradual in the instrument and voice respectively, yet still seeming to mean a great deal in emotion and sound of a presumable Caroline, once previously weighed down by the notions of narrative and word games, now freed up, just humming almost, just songwriting in all its well received hugs of a snare drum that is often used so well, like the seamless appearance of the full-stop. Here’s one for going ‘back’ to Caroline and meaning a great deal of emotion and sound of her song apparently sitting in a day-dream of “you” and “God” and other three-letter words/suffixes/abbreviations. Ctd.

Buy the album at ‘name your price

Underscore 22am


nside out moments, a squared picture of passion, autoregressive population ideas, time as trial and error, post-emptive experience, being born, condensation of love’s litter, heaped forever in an armchair, the consequences of foreheads, memory delusions, dark light to the power of X, x = x, non-conservation footsteps, the contingency of past, creating experience, living soil and living rocks, material trust, awake = asleep, currency of touching, forgotten infinities of distance, ritualism context, three letters interaction like h u g, excited fear, differences indifference, talking as dancing, hands as eyes, keys keeping safe, devolution of doubt, horizontal emotion

Writing the links into the world
Easing songs into the music

rhythm of eye-contact, muscle memory, nothingness of lines, God, revolving constance, there are no individuals even though we are individuals we are only individuals because we are nothing better to do, the oncoming wave, local truth of local intimation

Sharing souls into the soul
Passing songs into the music

(world), (word), (), wake up, open window, known path, convictions, synchronisation, ethereal memory, film projections,  (*),  caves in cliffs, houses on hills, trees behind trails, waves working, rhythm of things and thoughts and themes that rhyme, listening as dancing, fingers fumbling, the lag of a language of slogans and dead-ends, the freedom of finding time to do things even when it’s all tits up, realising the moment as a trial and error of experience, a sudden spontaneous situation like they always will be-

of pressing play
of embracing air

and making haste to improve it, or just to allow it let itself within your lungs and then out again, like dance

this album
this square
this keeping to yourself becomes, now, this ethereal web, keeping to ourselves

we will not buy silence

*We will not be silence

= dig


… all the words we are when we makes ourselves slumber and we’re trying … imagination is more than just image, it’s all one’s anything but _____ , it’s all one’s materials to be going on, the springing (from), the lying down (upon), they don’t leave you lonely even when you let them go, and so the album may end, it’s * tracks, * roads, * years, * lives after all – it’s the music beyond the music above the barcode that we music in the capital offices, letters, exam rooms and studios, it’s music that spells music like a juxtaposition to the decompressed pre-noise boredom that stops you getting to sleep…

It orchestrates the orchestra that assembles and dissembles before you reaffirm the clutch on chronology of all the chaos that we’re trying to try and understand here, stand up on here – it’s songs; see for yourself, enjoy, if that’s what enjoy means, I reckon it does.

This is an album by juxta phona, this is the Facebook page of their label; Home Normal