06-30-2022, 07:09 AM
A Song is a Preconceiving Pattern
Gloss of culture
is illusion compared
to, Holocaust and schoolshooting,
that stuff.
Real stuff.
Roaring real.
Not a bunch of talking.
Novel words.
The universe is imagination.
Raw is a word that
composes
the way things are to us
somehow beyond;
the pure other that is.
As though other,
the myth of evil.
There are no people,
only the dreams of animals.
Gloss prerectifying.
Eight bars and return.
A martyr does not return.
This isn't the poem I mentioned elsewhere. If you're diligent, you'll know what I'm talking about. I'll post that poem in its sequence.
I spelled schoolshooting one word. Seems appropriate it is so.
Seems most songs repeat eight bars and patterns from there.
Eight bar blues songs are the same and different.
While the blues has this repetitive control, it's mocking, too.
It's self-aware in its supposed unawareness.
And that unawareness is real in its supposition. Real beyond casual analysis, and casual. A thing you do.
A blues song knows and don't know at the same time. And that's why it's like doing this and that while your heart is beating regularly and regularly enough while you're doing what you're doing. So the skill is there and the bars are there repetitive but the repetition isn't.
A bluesong isn't a pop song, the experience is and the effect isn't. There is no program, only skill and continuing what's going on. The style, environment, situations. A blues song is aware of its chains. It can walk through walls.
A jazz song isn't a song. It's jazz. The atmosphere itself.
All music is pop music
The last line of the poem is blatantly a bombastic resort to martyrs of the religious kind.
Gloss of culture
is illusion compared
to, Holocaust and schoolshooting,
that stuff.
Real stuff.
Roaring real.
Not a bunch of talking.
Novel words.
The universe is imagination.
Raw is a word that
composes
the way things are to us
somehow beyond;
the pure other that is.
As though other,
the myth of evil.
There are no people,
only the dreams of animals.
Gloss prerectifying.
Eight bars and return.
A martyr does not return.
This isn't the poem I mentioned elsewhere. If you're diligent, you'll know what I'm talking about. I'll post that poem in its sequence.
I spelled schoolshooting one word. Seems appropriate it is so.
Seems most songs repeat eight bars and patterns from there.
Eight bar blues songs are the same and different.
While the blues has this repetitive control, it's mocking, too.
It's self-aware in its supposed unawareness.
And that unawareness is real in its supposition. Real beyond casual analysis, and casual. A thing you do.
A blues song knows and don't know at the same time. And that's why it's like doing this and that while your heart is beating regularly and regularly enough while you're doing what you're doing. So the skill is there and the bars are there repetitive but the repetition isn't.
A bluesong isn't a pop song, the experience is and the effect isn't. There is no program, only skill and continuing what's going on. The style, environment, situations. A blues song is aware of its chains. It can walk through walls.
A jazz song isn't a song. It's jazz. The atmosphere itself.
All music is pop music
The last line of the poem is blatantly a bombastic resort to martyrs of the religious kind.