What I do

Gimme a fat beat and I’ll feel it well inside meh. Like a rushing torrent of bluesy goodness waitin to burst pon up from ma heart. Flowing out like barfing flowers. It comes and I don’t try to control it. Like speaking in tongues… Let it go out into being forever and never contrived. I don’t stop to think. It just is…

Gimme some noisy thing to make a sound on. I’m getting high from the joy. I’m loosing my shit better hold on. get grounded I will loose control. But it is of the moment, create motherfucker! It’s lost to the air less I manage to record. In most cases I don’t… Try again and again. Get some idea of flow and ebb. Work on it, spend time with it, get to know it. Then it’s part of me and I don’t have to think about it.

I try and write, and I write and write. I seldom like it. I think it is getting somewhat easier. Like pulling chucks of brain through my skull. Words ain’t a forte, but I get their power and respect it. I like ambiguity, looseness, variety, heavy bass, punchy snare, a groove, a textural sound that gets me going, that gets my heart a pumpin and the singin from the guts going. Oh Lord!