I Used To Be Into Music And Then Everybody Else Started Listening To It

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Used To Be Into Music And Then Everybody Else Started Listening To It

 

When I first pounded the keys at age 3, I wasn’t trying to emulate the life of Beethoven or Andy Partridge but was intuitionally inspired by and subconsciously begin to follow those tonal psychonauts before me….bits of godflesh who have already forged trails to truths that passeth my understanding, a piggyback ride on the shoulders of giants so I can see stuff too high and bright to comprehend.
Something that’s done with great effort and wide open honesty can touch on the holy secret of the source of everything. 
Except for “Sussudio.”

I originally didn’t make music to get babes, or make money,  or to make friends.  I made my subsequent choice to remain poor all my life because it felt good: it offered warmth, comfort, promise, and the paradoxically hard nipples of contentment.
I explored new worlds by subjecting myself with sound vibrations echoing the kabalistic Tree of Life, the fruit of which god 86′d to punish us for stuffing ourselves with the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.
At this point we seem to have an almost overabundance of life.
I think we could more baskets of that smart fruit..
From the stirrings of hungry amoebas to human psyches to our galaxies and the cosmos, our seen/smelt/felt/heard universe is a spiraling reverberating self-referentially self-medicatingly sufficient reincarnative cycle of circular meta-feeding.
In other words:

Life is eating itself and a lot of it’s junkfood.
Music is just a fork.
Eat well.

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