Friday, September 17, 2010

Flags, dreams and cold sweat. Thoughts from the plastic edge.

Friday night. I still feel like I'm coming down from a very crazy few months. I'm standing on the edge of a very large chasm, looking into the depths of many possible futures. To jump or not to jump? I have so many big decisions to make, yet I've put them pretty much all on hold. The time just isn't right.

You ever get that feeling? The time just isn't right?

So I just came back from Poland. It was incredible seeing how large the family is. Here in Canada I've only really known my immediate family. Over there, the family is large and has an extensive history. It made me feel like I have really big shoes to fill. Most of the family is made of doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects, etc.

And here I am.

The black sheep.

The "artist".

I picked a career in music at a time that is, in the history of histories, a difficult one for this profession.

I think great-grandpa is rolling over in his grave.

Did someone say loser?

Look at me sitting here on this digital couch trying hard to express myself [which as you probably know from my few posting I find difficult at best].

Connecting the dots between the many feelings that come and go through-out a single day is a tall order for one such as myself who's natural tendencies are closer to a hermit than a gregarious rock musician.

Speaking of which.

All right I'll say it. Fuck it. I am seriously contemplating becoming a hermit on a nearby island and making music + art and releasing it from home. I'd feel quite comfortable choosing such a destiny. The land near here is wild. Really wild. Some of the trees are over a thousand years old. There is a peace, a stillness in those dark, empty woods that I crave. A peace I believe would help not hinder the art.

So let's note it. Decision 214: Move to a large city like Berlin or on an island and live as a hermit. Possibilities? Plenty. Time? Unknown. Pressure? Fuck it.

There we have it. Another one for the mental notebook.

I can glance over to my instruments right now and see the pileup of dust. It's happened before, many times, usually after an album release too. This time, come December, it'll be almost a whole year off from recording. Inevitably, the itch comes back, dragging its sorry ass to the forefront of my brittle mind.

Next up? After more promo work for T.O.N., I'll be extending and remastering the first album, which sold out years ago and which many of you have been asking me about (I feel so guilty for not doing it earlier!!)


I'm a sonic pilot with instruments made of plastic. It's dark outside, the plane has no lights, and I'm flying through clouds. When I peer back into the cabin I see you there ordering a cocktail, no fear registering in your eyes. What belief you have in your pilot!
And I'm such a flimsy human!

You ever get this feeling like you're re-energizing for something? I've had this feeling over the last week. It's very strong. Although I have some big decisions to make, I know I'll be making music for a very long time still. And I know I'm in a good place in my life. Mentally that is. There is a wonderful distant strength there that I can rely on and use when I see fit.

I've chosen not to use this strength for about two months now.

Burn out? Perhaps. Perhaps likely? Maybe? Just a wee bit?

All right it's burn out. I've been working like a maniac before my 'break' promoting the album. [I need to get back into that soon too, can't let things like that sit *wags finger at self*.]

Did you know in Poland they say "I'm going to step outside to burn" when referring to cigarette smoking?

That's so fucking appropriate.

Are you ever hard on yourself? What is the price you pay for perfectionism? What is the price for leniency? How do you compensate for your procrastinations?

You know, since the release of The Orwellian Night I've found it a far easier thing to feel good about accomplishing something. The damn album is finally out there, and should a lightning bolt strike me down at this very second I would die a happy man knowing I contributed something.

Look at that. I even put it in bold =P

While we're on the topic of accomplishments; Chain D.L.K. has just posted a review of The Orwellian Night, which you can read HERE.

The following from the author struck me:

"Only the music buying public can determine whether this album will be an underground classic or fade into obscurity."

I feel the same way. I'm here alone, and I've always been at your mercy. And I'm OK with that. As the writer and producer, I know how much work I put into the album. I know that it was the very best thing I could have made at the time. I did my job and i could sleep at night knowing I did the very best I could with the tools I had at hand.

So there we have it. Tribal Machine's true future is up to you, dear listener and reader.

Would you have it any other way?


P.S. If you love the work, I invite you to support it.

And for the many who have supported it?

From the bottom of my heart, you have my gratitude :)