After more than a decade writing music, I’m slowly putting all my demos online. There are more than 2 dozen already live at http://tunehenge.com (that’s out of 30 I wrote in February of this year, 2017.)
Eventually I plan to have all the demos worth listening to at tunehenge. Some of my demos are purely experimental or for my own fun. Trust me, you’re missing nothing. There are still more than 100 songs I’ve written and recorded rough demos for that’ll end up at tunehenge.
… more … “My Music Website”
Every year I spend some time in February mixing with the folks over at February Album Writing Month.
Every year, I notice that stretching to do more creative work makes me even more creative. It fires up things in my brain I forgot were there. It dredges up old feelings and new thoughts.
What it doesn’t do is use itself up or run itself out.
If you’d like to hear what I’m doing musically, head on over. While you’re there, look through the songs and see what others are writing. The library grows by about 500 songs most days during February, and most have demos you can listen to and even download. I’ve discovered some of my favorite artists on FAWM; regular folks who love making music as much as I do.
P.S. Ginger is off to the editor tomorrow and will be ready for y’all to buy before month end.
Like Hemingway said, just sit at your typewriter and bleed.
I’ve written 5 songs in the past couple weeks, as part of two songwriting challenges.
I’m emotionally exhausted. Even the fun songs are emotional effort, but the ones that dredge up the past or make me look inside my dead father’s brain are like digging a grave with your own bones.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
- Into Town — A desperately lonely song; nothing at all like my father would have been if he were the one alive and alone instead of my mother.
- I ♥ You — A totally silly diatribe, to balance it.
- Good Pair of Jeans — Another fun one, because Poppies refused to come out.
- Upside Down Smile — A jazzy number for my Best Beloved, which also helped Poppies ruminate in my unconscious.
- Poppies — Finally, Poppies, which just might be my father talking to me again.