Prologue:
Consider an individual entrapped in an unfavorable relationship. The synapse that once held both hearts together, beating as one becomes severed, yielding polyrhythmic patterns. This catastrophic, earthquake of dissonance creates a rift leaving the once lovers on opposing sides of the chasm, providing them with a choice. Do they tempt fate and trek into the abyss in hopes of once again falling into loving arms, or must they separate, never to have what they once had? More times than not, the latter is chosen, at which time the illusion of delusion vanishes. Life becomes “real”, and one must cope with reality, for dreamland is no option. This album takes the listener on a tour, leading him/her down the perilous road of love. Yet it ends unfinished…
Guardian Angel:
Life is good, the relationship is good, feeling good. This woman is the love of my life, the epitome of beauty, the mate of the soul. Cascading harmony abounds, and fills the void of everyday living with meaning. Speaking with her is equivalent to conversing with angelic beings. Note the unpolished soloing style in the beginning and first half of the middle guitar solo, segueing to perfection in the second half: representing call and response, mortal-angelic. This is how much she means to me, contrapuntal consonance. We are each other’s yin and yang, action and reaction, black and white. At this point, support is sensed from the counterpart, yet tension lurks… there is always tension. With tension comes question. Is the happiness and mirth merely skin deep?
Verse:
Intrigued by the heart of the matter
I fall into a river so deep
But a hand would reach out and grab me
I look forth, and what do I see?
Chorus:
You’re my guardian angel
Guide me through burning seas
You’re my guardian angel
You’re so heavenly
Verse:
All these perils that I go through
Travel regions anew
It’s not the walking that matters
For I’ll have you, oh
Chorus
Interlude (Fm-G—end on E)
In seven months of anger
And seven weeks of feud
A single thought propels me
A single thought of you
Verse:
Seven years ago, I don’t know
What I’d do
I was walking and talking
But I didn’t have you
Simple Words:
Here, we see the mask is being lifted, revealing tendrils and tentacles grasping for life, but maybe there’s still hope… I recollect fond memories of times past: walks on the beach with nothing but moonlight to guide our perambulations. Yet lovers’ footprints in the sand are inevitably washed away with the ebbing tide. Loneliness creeps in during doldrums in the relationship. “No eyes can penetrate this darkened room, my winter solstice in Arctic tombs.” Perhaps the sheer simplicity of this song is indicative of how basic, how thin this relationship turned out to be. What you see is what you get, I guess. Still, the longing vocalise harmonies at the end call, yearning for her ears to hear. The classic sappy slide guitar simulates the fluidity of tears as they creep down a trembling, reddened cheek towards oblivion, while the organic buildup of intensity represents pent up emotions, welling like water in a weir during a hurricane.
Verse:
Moonlight fell on her lips only yesterday
It’s not the season to eclipse, my love
For a thousand days
Oh, no
And so I sit alone waiting
For a call or a reply
Still I stay here longing for you
And I don’t know why
Chorus:
And so I sing my sweet song for you
Apart from this world
No more than simple words for you
I wish I had more
Verse:
So each night I lie in dismay
A soul alone lost on his way
No eyes can penetrate the darkened room
My winter solstice in Arctic tombs
Promise:
Again, I think back on what could have been. Hippocampal picture shows. Perhaps this song should be titled “Broken Promise”. Why did events have to take place as such? Was I holding on too long? Perhaps all relationships are finite… Don’t let the warmth and innocence of the Hammond B4 organ lull you into believing the façade. The chorus comes in too quickly, exposing hints of the pent up anger and angst of many moons worth of dedication for a naught cause. The classic blues progression and feel is highlighted by Dustin’s brilliant guitar solo, which captures the feeling entirely, digging deep down to excavate the feelings of sorrow bringing light to the dampened soul. The solo reminds me of something Chuck Mangione would do.
Verse:
Baby, if the world fell through on you,
Would you still love me ‘till the end?
And baby, I would do anything for you
You read the letters that I sent
Chorus:
I said I’d love you till I die
You said it too, let’s see you try
I’ll give you all my love today
You just have to promise that you’ll stay
Verse:
So, maybe, I could do anything with you
If you’ll just give me a chance
And maybe it could be just me and you
And then our lifestyles could advance
Lies pt I:
Alas, it’s become quite clear that she is not coming back. I can wait for her return no more. Emotions overcome discipline. Blame must be cast on the traitor! Treason! Here is where the face of the album changes. Lyricist, Chuck, depicts a blown relationship. (This was a tough one for him to write, emotionally.) Spiteful lyrics of woe are spit over driving bass and guitar lines, complementing troubled toms in the background. A crazed, scraping guitar brings the piece to its apex, a volcano erupting, vomiting lava and magma from the bowels of the earth. But still, “my love, I gave it all to you.”
Verse:
Staring into, blurred images of the past,
Fortified by shards of saline glass.
Glare back, from a seclusion – incessantly…
Reminding me of what should be…
Chorus:
An arbitrary word, a continuous trend,
Driven off the ledge, to realities end.
Verse:
A familiar voice encases my mind – devouring
The remnants of my sole sanctuary.
Seizing what was left of my humanity,
Blending it to pure insanity.
Chorus:
An arbitrary word, a continuous trend,
Driven off the ledge, to realities end.
Cast back into this maze alone.
Acquiring a mask of lifeless stone.
Abandoned in the darkness to aimlessly roam.
Shrinking away, from the dim unknown.
Verse:
Plagued love, diluted (with lies!!!) and shattered – erratically…
Tormenting me with its longevity.
The question, imprinted on my lust filled mind,
Answered only with eternal time.
Chorus:
An arbitrary word, a continuous trend,
Driven off the ledge, to realities end.
An arbitrary word, a continuous trend,
Driven off the road, to realities end
Lies pt II:
An alternate picture is painted of the former companion. This piece is the antithesis of the album’s opening piece. A shadow is cast upon the once brilliant past. The dark mode of this piece indicates feelings of regret. I am broken. The torture has been too great to bear. I am a vacant cottage with sagging roof, the direct result of a rotted through support beam. Years of harsh, battering weather have taken their toll, leaving a cadre of devastation in their wake. The finale of the twisted lyrics weighs the pros and cons before passing judgement, where I hand myself an ultimatum. Still, the classical guitar recalls mixed feelings and a thread of hope. The mode remains minor, yet the timbre is delicate, fragile, soft. She still haunts me. “Lies, every fu…” well… that about sums up the song.
Verse:
You reach to me with your pale hand
Intoxication, infiltration of my permeable mind
My senses surge with stimuli within me
This entity scrapes away integrity
Chorus:
I’d walk miles…
Just to kiss your lips
I…
Never felt so close to death
Verse:
Here I stand, cadre of my former soul
Impurities in my reaction to facades
Can punctured eardrums hear my cries
Contusions, infusion of fear and lies
Chorus:
Lies…
Every single word you said
Lies…
Burn the dreams still in my head
Descending outro:
Integration, isolation
Condemnation, consecration
Combination, separation
Altercation, consolation
Correlation, arbitration
Conflagration, salutations
Modulation, mastication
Defamation, ultimatum
Lies pt III:
The instrumental starts in a 3 over 4 polyrhythm, a blatant indication of confusion. This piece embodies the extent of the ultimatum posed in the previous song. The Warr guitar and drums lay down a solid foundation for the raw energy of the lead wah guitar to express spite and ire. Quarter note triplets break up the mayhem, and break down the song into a duet. The lead reappears along with the ostenato, working its way toward complete corruption. The pounding rhythm at the song’s close is the driving hammer of pressure and stress, squeezing the beating heart… CRACK!!!
Into the Maelstrom:
Take the plunge headfirst into insanity. The skewed lyrics paint a picture of a mind that is not quite stable, a mind with scattered thoughts. Imagine a hallway with many doors, each of which opens into a separate thought. When multiple doors are ajar at once, ambivalence renders the brain bewildered. Notice the talking in the background. Meanwhile, interjecting toms create unstability in a world of slide fuzz guitars. This is one insane, almost consonant guitar solo that snaps into frantic screams for help. Just try to follow the random notes. The closing vocal pleads call for assistance. Somebody, please help me make sense of it all!!
Verse:
Step into my mind
Analyze the gallery that you find
Wrapped tight in cellophane
Protect me from the driving rain
Rap upon the door
Cracked from pulsing weather near the shore
Afloat with my unrest
There is no peace in here, I must confess
Chorus:
No more room in here
No time to feed my fear
I hear the constant drum
Into the maelstrom
Interlude (piano/guitar solo)
Verse:
Crash through paper walls
Echoes of ghostly calls
Plague my memory
Blind to all I see
Chorus
Drown Me:
So, what is the solution? How to forget the vile succubus? Should I hit the bar? Will the liquid panacea deliver me to a higher plain? I guess we’ll just have to keep the Jack flowing to find out. The sudden 7/8 intro slides smoothly into 8/8 as the first sip passes the lips. The wave of ethanol over the tongue makes its way down the peristaltic pipe towards its destination, the stomach. You gotta be crazy to do something like that! Oh…yeah… This song can’t make up its mind: funk or rock? Why not both? Ha! Inebriation, intoxication! Notice how the song gets bigger and bigger and crazier and crazier at the end, until it suddenly arrests, where the protagonist collapses into a lifeless heap on the floor, succumbing to the passive seduction of our favorite depressant. Liver abuse!
Verse:
Tell me how time eludes me ‘til the waking hour
My eyes washed back in search of circumstantial power
Hold me in ethereal stasis
Ignore the consequential cases
Your lies will hypnotize and douse the embers of my pain
This time I’ll cross the line to pacify the troubled brain
Chorus:
Take me down to the waters shore
Save me one shot before I go
Back home, a victim to your mind
Drown me one more time
Verse:
Life’s brand, so grand seared upon my skin
There’s no telling where I’ve been
This beast inside my head
She calls, ensuring that I’m dead
Chorus
Take me down to the waters shore
Save me one shot before I go
Back home, a victim to your mind
Drown me one more time
Stagger down to the water line
Beat down, laden by the rising chyme
Still I’m washed in your caustic rhymes
Drown me one more time
Purity:
Although it is difficult to reach REM status when one is loaded, it does happen briefly, hence the brevity of the piece. This is the calm dream sequence, where our alcoholic attempts to sleep off the booze. He has not a care in the world. So what if he finds himself embracing the porcelain throne in the wee morning hours. He has his peace, crickets and all!
The Word:
What the hell hit me? Where am I? What happened last night? My head hurts (notice the constant high-pitched scream of the strum-stick feeding back). Now, the off-kilter rhythms indicate imbalance, or a poor state of equilibrium in the semicircular canals. Well, let’s try to recall my actions during last night’s binge. Maybe I didn’t make an ass out of myself… I gotta pick up the pieces and put the puzzle together, but dreamland is being confused with reality. I can’t be sure… I really have to get this screaming out of my ears. BTW, this bathroom floor is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Gotta stand up…
Verse:
Well, I woke up on the wrong side of the tracks
Just the other day
I heard the sound of a crazed man laughing
Washing his blues away
The last thing I recall, a girl was sitting next to me
Singing songs about a tangential plane intersecting reality
You know it brought to me a dense feeling intensely healing
My inner pain
Chorus:
Now I see
The winds of change, design of mystery
Visionary lies
Are the staples of our kind
Take me away
Verse:
Into the night I plunged,
Sailing headlong into space
I caught a glimpse of my future’s ship
Leading me in the race
“Land ho to the starboard side,”
The man from the crow’s nest cried
I hear the sounds of the banshee wailing
You know the sirens never lied
Chorus
Verse:
So she said one last word to me
A word I’d never heard before
I said it overwhelmed my mind
I feared for what there was in store
She said one word
One word, etc.
Moonshine:
Back from the world of alcohol poisoning, we remember what we were thinking about before. Once again, darkness falls upon the earth. My heart is heavy with sorrow. This freeform piano piece, sung by a man in despair hits almost rock bottom (if it was rock bottom it would have been the last song). I find myself back at a bar, behind a piano, crooning about losses and woe. Won’t anybody listen?
Verse:
As I gaze upon the sunrise for the very last time
One can hear the egret singing with sweetness of wine
Beyond the waking hour, the time’s passed my eyes
But before the night falls, I shall whisper goodbye
If you travel backwards up the river of time
You may see a heart lie listless being swept far behind
My love now is lost and shall never reply
I stand at the lip of the pier and ask myself why
She’d sing to me gaily, in times gone away
But tonight my eyes fall upon moonlight bay
I shall yearn for the warmth and caress of she
With reflections of moonshine upon a black sea.
Symphony #1, Mov. III, “The Pit”:
As the title suggests, this is the bottom. Take nothingness, and blend in crazy rhythms and a pinch of African percussion. This is the recipe for an introverted self-pity piece. The bass and the drums play a low-end duet, simulating the mixed inner feelings residing deep within. The introvert becomes lost in his pondering, and neglects to consider any uplifting aspects of the situation. Finally, loneliness wins. The outside world is shut out, expelled, eliminated. The inside world (the percussion) wins in the end, creating a small box to live in. Fences are erected, which turn to walls, insulating me from civilization. I cannot cope with the real world. I must reside in my safe haven, my pit.
Verse:
Right makes us wonder
Rain turns to thunder
Holes fill the air
(Filled with despair)
Verse:
Cadence of light
Split by the night
Years slip away
Slip into gray
¾ part:
Welcome to my tomb, my catacombic world of isolation, devastation. Rain drums lonely rhythms into my head, souls scream atonal melodies of torment. Church bells toll my name, beckoning with doors ajar and vacant pews. Here I dwell, restless and insecure, a wooden cauldron over an endless flame.
Verse:
Deep in the darkness
Captain who’s chartless
Shunned by the sages
A book with no pages
Stay tuned for the sequel. It should be more uplifting.
MBM 2004