Chapter 1 . . .

CD RELEASE SHOW SET (12/17/10) @ 1419:

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. L.C.D.
4. Whisper a Scream
5. Silent Cache
6. An Act of 3
7. Here Again
8. The Private Collective

I've done it.

I've reached every goal I've had at the beginning of the year.

1. Make PATCH go live
2. Finish and release Schematics

Just two, but they were huge undertakings.

December 17th, the two culminated in an event that harbored promise and reward. The reward mainly being relief. Promise in terms of "Well, I think this whole Patch thing might take off. People seem to like it."

It sparked the end of Trifectic preparation (we've learned everything I had written for the initial three piece line up back in July and August). And we played a track from Schematics, something I didn't really intend to do initially with the three piece lineup. Schematics is its own entity, a glimpse into future projects. L.C.D. is actually a song from an album I've written called Karmath. The rest of the songs are from three other projects I hope to complete: Sound. Of. Static., I Source, and Hue.

Playing the show, I felt where the energy was high and where attention spans waned with the audience. At this point, I'd like to keep energy high throughout a show. The next step is to take the three piece lineup and give it one more round of songs, an entirely new set from what we've been playing thus far. It will be fun to mix and match Trifectic with the next project, too.

The next project's storyline will deal with the concept of three again. It will focus on the notion of polygamy and lovers trying to come to terms with "others" in their relationship. It's a commentary on modern sexuality, suppressed sexual inhibitions within animals, and a way for me to deal with some of my anxiety when it comes to my love life. There's a 90's indie feel for one song, plus the storyline will incorporate electronics. The first time we'll be doing so in the live setup.

We'll also expand on the drum line alongside the new storyline. I'd like to have a show where we're able to use our bodies to express the songs. Being stuck behind a plethora of instruments in Trifectic, I feel somewhat suppressed in expression onstage. The drum line is about instrument performance, the other material will be about intense body expression. I want to have a realm where one style of performance can really shine and have the option to have the other style shine in another setting. This will also create more variety in our shows, something I've always wanted in PATCH. If we have four shows booked in a two week span, each show will be different, thus providing people the opportunity to keep coming back for more and not seeing the same show they saw two nights prior.

After these two projects (Drum Line Expansion and New Set), it'll be time to bring in the four piece version of PATCH with "On Veins and Nothing" and "Omiss" and "Karmath". The next recording is up in the air . . . I'm not sure what I want to do in that department quite yet. Perhaps the new set will shed some light on that matter.

Closing the Year

After 2010 ends, I'm kind of stumped as to the next direction that we'll be taking in PATCH. Meaning I've got a lot of ideas (too many) but I haven't nailed one down for our undertaking in January.

What we've done so far is Trifectic. Approximately 55 minutes' worth of material. Seven songs:

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. Silent Cache
5. An Act of 3
6. Here Again
7. The Private Collective

All of the material is based off of the hardship of realizing one's dream, and the people and situations that try to strip you of your goals. Preclusion and Acknowledgments have felt the most respectable to me. Whisper, Silent, Act of 3 have felt a little "put on". I love those songs, but they're very theatrical, using a form of music that's mainly for show and not the most personal. They're also telling about another character, not me. I'm not alluding to the fact that we're going to discard anything. I just know what my heart's pining for: more personal, PATCH-y sort of music, rather than just straight up blues and drum lines.

That being said, the next step in Trifectic will be a story relating to my current love life. On Veins and Nothing is a reflection on that aspect of my life, but I'd like to delve into a short story first before we get into that grand era. I've got intense ideas for intense music. I want to continue the angry energy we create with Preclusion and Acknowledgements and let it ride throughout the entire show. Louder, more in your face. More sexual. More uncomfortable for an audience.

December 1st will be the first time we'll be playing the original Trifectic set in its entirety to a live audience. December 17th, our Schematics CD release show, we will play a track from Schematics and Karmath: LCD. After that, expect both the personal songs to be fleshed out, and an expansion on the Whisper, Silent, Act of 3 storyline and performance.

For November 2nd, 2010

My stance for this Election Day:

"I developed an alternative agenda
A way to keep the peace within a world of strangers
Their colors all blended contradiction
So I took just one and created an eviction

You all say you’re looking for a way out
You all stay in by looking for a way out
The loudest voice is a whisper, not a shout
And that’s why, that’s why you’ll never get out . . .

. . . On the hill of Red, White, and Blue
The trusted providers of molasses and glue
Flooded the West, we’re stuck and contained
There will be no change, it’s too thick to drain
Ay oh, it’s too thick to drain

Entered the hearing with a song and a praise
Grabbed the trophied weapon laid out for display
Took the podium and gave a speech
Said what they liked: “Teach, Preach, Impeach.
With this weapon it’s either loaded or free
Locked and hidden where you can find the key.
There’s no compromise, no in between, just war.
Nobody even has a voice on this floor.”
And with a gesture I was sure they’d understand
I put a bullet into 535 heads

Policies all tranquilized my potential
To be strong, be the boss, be essential
Get a 4.0 and you’ll be behind
Blood and Duty is politics defined

You don’t hold me anymore
You don’t hold me anymore
You don’t hold me anymore
You don’t hold me anymore"

------- Selection from PATCH: An Act of 3

Show 3

Fine Line Music Cafe, Minneapolis, MN
10/26/10

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. An Act of 3
5. Here Again
6. The Private Collective

Whisper a Scream and Private Collective were the strong ones here. Here Again was completely botched, however. Greg's bass was out of tune on one string, and I realized this as the song progressed. I started fearing "Shit, my own guitar's going to be completely whacked due to the bass!" Sure enough, it sounded like complete ass when I went to my first solo. I basically took the guitar off for the big solo, stopped the song, told everyone to point a middle finger at the guitar, kicked some pots/pans around, half-finished the song. We ended strong with Private Collective. People forgot all about the awkwardness just before (I even heard someone say on our video of the show "Well, THAT was awkward" after we stopped Here Again). Paul was nuts, jumping, swinging his guitar around, screaming and headbanging. I hope he continues to stay at that magnitude from now on. Greg was more calm. We'll just forget about the Here Again incident and tune before we go into it in the future. They can't all be zingers . . .

Show 2

Show 2: Big V's Saloon, St. Paul
10/16/10

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Here Again
4. The Private Collective

Another exhausting set. However, the audience hasn't been privy to that. They've said the shows have been uber intense and energetic throughout. Greg was on fire, moving around, head banging. Paul was a little more calm. Thank god for the adapter and daisy chain I purchased this past week, because now all our pedals are in working order!

I was worried about Here Again. It's really easy to screw up that song, since it's actually melodic and relies on written tabs, rather than things we threw together off of melodies I sang to Paul and Greg to figure out on their own. It turned out great. Best song of the night, actually, for me at least.

Magnetic Lines of Sight

Having spent pretty much 3/4 of the year sans blog, I can say that I don't miss blogging every single day of the year. I get the random urge to type about this or that, but frankly I don't have the time to write that stuff down anymore. Nor would you care. How many people actually looked at the Karmath Blog each day? Maybe six at most? To those six, I commend you and thank you for your interest in my life, I'm interested in yours as well. But it makes you think . . .

Why do I want people to know what I'm thinking? Is it because I'm a polite narcissist, putting myself out there in the hopes that people care enough to look me up the way I want to be looked up? Yeah, actually. I don't crave attention. Well, scratch that, I do. Sometimes. Other times I do like to hide away in a cave and do my own thing. But usually, c'mon, you know me! I'm your fucking clown, I'll shit in my own mouth, I'll fondle a blowup doll and fuck its eye if it makes you happy. At least, I thought the spectacle of that sort of performance would have been interesting to see about five years ago. Now, that act has to have a reason behind it. I can't justify fondling a blowup doll ever, since it's hokey. But to fuck something in the eye . . . I have an idea behind that one . . . trust me, it's all good and gravy, and it's a doozie of an idea. It deals with PATCH, on the topic of fetishes and obsessive compulsion, to which I have both. BOOM, I just found reason to muse on sticking a phallic object into the empty eye socket of some personified object, living or dead.

Jesus . . .

I'm scared. Seriously. I've just made PATCH go live. I've now reached that strange frontier where I have to garner enough attention on me and my musings in order to justify keeping PATCH alive. My job is to be a somewhat impolite narcissist in order to make my dream fully realized. After this, you'll hopefully turn me into an object where I don't have to ask for you to look at me, you'll do it on your own. And then when I want enough, you won't let up, you'll still lust for more, and I'll sink into a spiral of self-loathing and irritation that I'll regret ever having wanted to start PATCH in the first place. Do I still want to do this?

Hell yeah. I'm a born narcissist. I love theatre. If you're in theatre, you're a narcissist. People love watching stories, hearing sounds. Who's going to do that? Narcissists. Who'd rather be an audience? I come from a world of performers, so I don't really know the answer to that. My friends are all attention seekers. Drama queens. We've fucked this many people, we've been screwed over this many times, we've been in this many bands, our hair truly is in touch with our individuality (which is a mirror of another individual which is a mirror of another and another . . .). I want those people to stop thinking about themselves and look at me. I want those who are not narcissists to look at me. I want everyone to look at me.

Why won't you look at me?

I'll just have to think of another way to make you look at me. Or keep doing what I'm doing. We all have magnets glued to the sides of our eyes. The object is for me to put enough attractive force into my own magnets so that yours feel me pulling you in, if only for a brief glance. I pine for a double take. Hell, I pray for stares.

This is what they should teach in art school programs. How to get stares. Instead they teach expression, how to get a feeling out. Valiant effort on putting a sugar coating on narcissism, but I'm not buying it. You're really trying to steer people inward, keeping your own performance as a teacher on top, getting more attention. You teach how to get people to maintain eye contact with you and your art, those pupils become successful. How to extrovert the introvert.

I've seen that before, this person's not saying anything new, it's not daring enough, this artist looks like an asshole, they seem quiet, they're not interesting. I've seen people sticking their dicks into a blowup doll's eye socket. It's not that original. It's not that interesting. Anybody can do it.

But can you turn that idea into a one minute section of a song? Can you get rid of the basal act? Can you turn it into an emotionally charged act that people can empathize with (and not just people who have also fucked a blowup doll or who are thinking about maybe branching off and embarking on that act in the future at some point)? How about something that won't get old? They'll keep staring at it for years and years.

I've got this shit. I can do this whoring of my art. I'll keep my integrity, I'll keep my good nature. I know who I am, I know my motivations. My motivations regard talking about my motivations, most of the time. It's all meta-self-analyzing.

Time to compose some emails . . .

PATCH: Show 1

8/13/10 at Room Zero
Era: Trifectic
Opening band: Shield Your Eyes

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. An Act of Three
5. The Private Collective

A good turnout for the debut. For some reason, I was completely exhausted. It saw it in the video we captured of the set. The music was still intense, but I need more to come out of the show. Especially from me. Paul went bonkers in The Private Collective, I loved it. His delay pedal ran out of battery, so he opted to get weird sounds through using Schuyler's cello bow on his guitar. Greg was solid, serious, tough as hell. He knew what he was doing.

TRIFECTIC

PATCH ERA 1: TRIFECTIC

July 15, 2010 -- I get a call while on my way to practice by the current drummer in the band. He's stressing out about all the material he needs to learn by July 30th for our On Veins and Nothing launch. I say "Just ride it out, it'll get easier." At the actual practice, it seems like everything is falling apart. Paul has an impromptu appointment out in the boonies of Wisconsin, Greg's car breaks down, and the drummer is trying to prevent himself from having a nervous breakdown.

Talking with the drummer, I tell him exactly what I need from him if he's going to be in PATCH. Someone who will tour, say yes to 75% of the gigs I ask them to do, someone who can practice at least nine hours a week if need be. He says he can't do any of those. As he is saying this, I know that he is out. He could keep going for another two weeks for the show, but I don't feel up to the stress of the possibility of him not knowing the material due to his stress, our stress, etc. It isn't going to work. As he is talking, I'm already formulating answers to the post-drummer dilemma. We agree it's for the best for him to quit then and there. We stay friends, I call my girlfriend to spit and spew and vent for 15 minutes (it's necessary, that process), and then sit down at my drumset and write one line down on the first sheet of a blank notebook:

"All these lines mocking the marks of my life . . ."

Feeling angry, sad, frustrated, I look at that line for a good five minutes in the practice space, notebook sitting on my snare. I call Greg. He picks up. I tell him, "No On Veins and Nothing, the project's changed to something between the three of us." Greg casually says "Okay!" Paul says the same thing a few days later.

12 people have come and gone in Patch Live in the past 9 months. That's a heinous amount. There is only one chance left to do this, or else a bullet to the brain seemed plausible . . . at least, in terms of doing Patch Live. I can't take another failed attempt at going live.

I go home, sit down in front of my computer, turn my phone off, and jot down notes . . .

------------------------------------------------------------------

I came up seven songs that night. Random melodies and beats came to me. I committed them all to memory. When you're in a state of desperate anger you become more creative and are able to retain your findings easier. Seven songs. Three people in Patch. Three stories.

The subject matter was easy to figure out: my frustration with Patch Live. On Veins is about a broken heart. Trifectic was about a broken dream. And about the fight to make that dream a reality.

A. TRI

1. Preclusion

The significance of the word Preclusion is a big one for me and for a lot of my close friends. They make fun of me for using this word in the context of what it truly stands for. In my old band Citizens Banned, I always said Preclusion was the era of the band before we made it big. It was a prologue to success, but we were being successful in playing out, reaching for the dream. So it was a conclusion to the true pre-success era of the band. But things never worked out. The band fell apart.

The same thing happened in Patch back in February. I lost guitarists, bassists. I called the era Preclusion, writing material related to Schematics, our first EP, and a new sound. But that fizzled out pretty quickly with the loss of yet another bassist. Preclusion is basically my hope for a dream that always ends poorly, usually by the faults of others, and it affects me in a major way. I felt that I was at the end of my rope July 15th. Fuck, this song was going to be all about the "Try, Try Again" game I had been playing since Day 1 of Patch. We are three now (TRI), tried and beaten. But I realized we were the true bones making up the band all along.

2. Acknowledgements

The most literal song I've ever written. A basic BANG BANG BANG drop D shredder of anger and outright dark energy. Still reeling from the previous night, I got this one out in a matter of minutes. It's about everyone and no one, people that have been in Patch, and people in general. Sometimes I think of actual individuals while I sing it, other times it's about made up people. I've basically always said "What? You're leaving the band? Sigh . . . okay . . . we tried. Yeah, we're cool." Where did all the negative energy of those 12 foiled experiences go, piled together for nine continuous months within my brain? This song. No offense to those people. It was necessary. And it's only fair.



B. inFECtion

3. Whisper a Scream

I work with a child at my day job who most likely has autism, or a severe speech impediment. There's a small window within language development before seven years old where one could get help in order to find a way to bypass the impediment and develop normally. When this child started at our school, he was hopeless. Something was definitely wrong with him, but he was such a sweet child. I fell in love with him. My coworker and I tried to talk to his parents, but they were in complete denial. "Oh he's like that because we speak Spanish at home." Wrong! Did you know that you can actually learn every language on this green Earth and not have one impede on another before the age of 7? You could literally speak fluently in EVERY language if you wanted to before the language development peak at 7.

We were basically trying to rush the process with his parents to have him taken to therapy, maybe get diagnosed for early autism. But they wouldn't have it. Today, he's five years old, but he talks worse than his 26 month old sister (who is actually excelling in speech and is advanced for her age, ironically). His parents still haven't figured it out.

This song is my call out to him and his parents. I want him to figure out that there's something holding him back, and that he should be the one to scream to his parents, if even a tiny iota of a scream. A whisper, even. Before it's too late. C'mon! You can do it! Pleeeeeeeaseeeee . . . .

4. Silent Cache

Here I began branching off, creating a semi-fictional character who is beaten down by the world he lives in. He finds a way out in the end, but only after he's had to endure countless amounts of pain and failure for not getting the help he needed early in his life. He's a mute man, someone who can't speak for himself, even though he'd like to. He figures out a new way to exist that none of us could even fathom. Even my own call to him was detrimental. I get a little negative at our staff meetings when we discuss children's illnesses. Everyone has their fingers in the honeypot, too many cooks in the kitchen. Makes me uncomfortable. Too many opinions. That goes for anything in the world. Issues: there are too many sides, too many people get offended. Basically, this character can't give his opinion, he keeps it to himself (because he can't speak it), and finds a way out of the society we all seem to hate and bitch about whenever we can because he doesn't use his voice. He actually acts on something . . . when all we do is talk talk talk, never walking the walk. Maybe this child has an advantage over the rest of us . . .

5. An Act of 3

From the point of view of the character. It's about how he came to his new way of life and thinking. He goes on a mental rampage, killing everything in his head that stifled his potential to be somebody within society. He kills his political affiliations and starts from scratch on a new way of thinking about the world. He kills the doctors who told him he was autistic when it was too late. He's normal, just not in the same way. He kills his parents, who waited too long. This is all within his head (I think), and in the end he becomes someone new and prosperous. Does he commit suicide? The lyrics make it plausible, but I wasn't really going for that. It's kind of open ended.

This character is a personification of my struggle to speak in art, using an individual influenced by a real live boy that I work with to tell the story.


C. T:I:C

6. Here Again

Bringing the previous stories together into one mishmash ending, I take the styles of TRI (a progressive grunge sound) and inFECtion (a bluesy, folk sound) and put them into a jazzy blues grunge hodge podge (TrIfeC: TIC). Here Again and The Private Collective take place during a war. In my mind I tend to think WWII, but it could be any time, really. The war: one man's quest to become a man. To lose his youth and claim his dream, his career goals.

Here Again is youth personified as a female lover, pining for her soldier who has fled across the ocean of chance to the final confrontation of becoming an adult. She remembers how they met and how she knows she'll never see him again. She wonders if he ever thinks of her, if he'll ever send correspondence, tell her of his existence.

7. The Private Collective

The man questing for his adult status. He's fighting on a beach with untold amounts of other people questing for their dreams to be met. With the amount of laziness abound in this world and how people don't meet their potential, either by others fucking them over or by their own lack of ambition, I feel so few people ever truly become Adults, or successful dreamcatchers. A bunker, symbolizing the one true goal, shoots down all of these people in a sea of blood and gore. The man gets shot in the heart at one point (a nod to On Veins and Nothing, the next era in PATCH, and also one of the truest ways to make me stop dead in my ambitions -- I have a few demons I need help sifting out of me, let's just put it that way), and uses this against them. He takes it as his new strength and overtakes the bunker. But no one is inside when he reaches it. He sees fleets from the same enemy coming to shoot down what is now HIS bunker, and he mans the gun that was trying to shoot him down only moments before to protect his new status as a successful human being.

-------------------------

By finally performing Patch to a live audience, I truly feel like I've reached that bunker. Hence, why it is the last song. But now I feel like I need to protect it, keep going. The first line of Trifectic: "All these lines mocking the marks of my life" and the last line "We're not boys anymore" symbolize the growth of nine months and beyond. I've become somewhat hardened by my attempts to make Patch a reality. More confrontational, unafraid to stand up for myself. Mature is most likely the right word for it, and I do feel like that. But Patch is far from a mature enterprise, meaning it doesn't play with adult rules and guidelines. It's about as crazy and loud as you can imagine music being. We are in touch with our youth, sending correspondence, but taking action to make things happen. In a world where 85% just let life slip by after college, this is the story of overcoming that obstacle and taking matters in one's own hands.

PK

----------------------------------

It's happened again.

We're back to a three-piece again. But we're keeping the show. I will MAKE this happen. It will have a very current feel, as in dealing with almost a metafictional storyline of the hardships with Patch Live. So far it's all I can think about. But I've already come up with two songs, stuff I'm pretty confident in. Who knows what a shut-in weekend will bring about?

Perversion of Youth Culture: The Baby Boomer Sloppy Seconders

I was late for the party . . .

. . . low quality media penetrated the waves in space. Do it Yourself, funded by an Indie Label. 'Scuse me, Indie Label distributed by a Major Label. An afternoon thought wrought an evening's worth of work and it sold a million free copies on the Blogosphere.

Childhood trinkets that were juuuuust before our childhoods: tape, Atari, 8-Bit sound effects, wood panels, tall beers, stale colors and Polaroids. None of these things in the scene are new. In fact, I grew tired of it once I hit ten years old. Those of you making the scene at 18 just missed these facets of culture that were OUR upbringing, and you're not fooling anybody. Those of you who are slightly older, who have made the scene -- LET GO and EXPRESS through NEW means. Do not rely on what you did at five years old.

In my music class today, I invited six year olds to put random notes on an empty staff of music. They came up with an Indie hit. It sounded like our Current scene.

Do six year olds write like 26 year olds? <---> Do 26 year olds write like six year olds?

CUT THIS SCENE CUT THIS SCENE CUT THIS SCENE CUT THIS SCENE CUT THIS SCENE CUT

Two Months . . .

Some new developments since last we wrote:

The "On Veins" material is coming along in a way I wasn't anticipating. I've recently felt that Patch needed to add another guitar to the mix. Plus, Dave had to cancel out due to the band conflicting with his family life. So, we've got Greg and Paul at a farther point (currently working on our fifth song out of eight), Eric (he's back, drumming for Patch in exchange for my own drumming services in his band, HighTV) just started one-on-ones with me last week (currently have almost two songs down), and a rhythm guitarist hopeful is coming in this weekend to test out the waters . . .

June is a month of one-on-ones, three different facets of learning the "On Veins" material. July we will coalesce as one entity, playing together, sprucing up the details and nitty gritties.

There is a date set. An actual, tangible date, but I don't want to announce it just yet in case of another setback. When it seems that all is well, that date will be known . . .

After a few more weeks of writing the final three songs for this first presentation, I will finish up the Schematics artwork and embark on the free sampler I have planned, titled Schematosis. I anticipate Patch Live debuting slightly before Schematics/Schematosis is released.

There is an end in sight.

Snowballs and Momentum

Before I finish prepping for my music class, I figured I'd let the coffee sift into my bowels as I checked in on the blog, sent it off to Facebook, etc.

The acquisition of the new band members, Dave and Paul, has led to the greatest setup for the live band. Having had a few full practices now, I can't imagine a different setup. It's perfect. We all come from the same school of thought when it comes to music and art . . . primarily performance, which is the key element.

Throwing strange time signatures, strange dissonant notes, found instruments, the whole gamut at Greg, Paul, and Dave . . . they put up with a lot of challenges.

Currently, we've got about 11 minutes of material nailed down tight. Pretty soon I'll be showing some glimpses into the current project ("On Veins and Nothing"), but with style. I want to play it classy with the presentation of all this. Jumping the gun with photos and videos of the other players in the winter who have since left the band left me with a buffoon's grin on my face.

Slowly but surely, folks . . . I think we've got this, now . . .

From the Heart

And from out of these cuts comes the empty drowse of fatigue. How much is left within me? I cut and I cut and I cut and do these demons fly out? Do you not see them? Because I haven't found them yet. Each lover, each opportunity is tainted with the dye of pepper and condiments, added bonuses to a deal I've been saving every last penny toward. Yet these sweeteners tend to poison the whole gamut.

If you've caught sight or wind of anything pouring out of me, let me know. This red light taints my ability to judge the drainage, and the weariness of the body has been steady since before you saw me take this razor to my skin.

There will be a time when I give up . . . I might pass out first, however . . .

Take 2

Will this finally pan out? Will this be the lineup? Will this be the final "first" direction we take?

I don't want to jinx anything anymore. I'll shut up until dates are announced.

Transplant

When you've hit the bottom, you become numb to everything that comes your way, good or bad. I could have been stricken with cancer last week and I probably would have just said, with glazed eyes, "Okay."

Things have played themselves out. I wouldn't say "worked" themselves out, per se. I'm contemplating still.

Schematics is done in the audio department. It sounds amazing! I picked up the finished copy at the opening for Room Zero, Schuyler's new performance/creation space in Northeast, right down the street from Karmath Studio, actually. At the opening, four bands, including Schuyler's own, played live noise sets. The gears started turning in my own head.

Schuyler had asked me a couple of months ago to play at Room Zero at one of the monthly gigs that he's planning on having each month from here on out. The space is perfect. It will hold the right amount of people, it will generate the right kind of feeling that I would want Patch to generate in people's heads. The whole night I came up with new ideas for the first live representation of Patch. The initial idea has been stripped away from me time and time again. It will be void of Schematics, it will be all "Veins".

May . . .

The Patch Live/Sisyphus Analogy

OCTOBER 2009: Mixing is nearing completion on Patch 1: Schematics. During one of the mixing sessions with Schuyler, my co-producer, Schuyler's friend Scotty comes in to say hi. He mentions that he is a freelance drummer, currently rehearsing for an audition for a band looking for a stand-in if the regular drummer is unavailable. He gives me his card, it's best to get as many people as possible for auditions for Patch Live, which would be coming up soon.

I'm also in talks with good friends (Dustin, Adri, Greg) to possibly be in the band. I have a space in the back of my house that I've been using for live music two years and counting. Things are looking up. I have everything I could want. My birthday occurred, I realized all of the friends I had, now it's time to step forward into the ether. Halloween is the last good day of the year . . .

NOVEMBER 2009: I have a professional meeting with Scotty. We discuss the fact that he's a paid musician, he isn't tied to a band at all, he's a freelancer. Being a stickler for people who commit to projects, and seeing as though I'm not really paying rent on top of the house for the practice space, I figure "Why not? It's only a little bit of money."

I try out another drummer. I opt for Scotty, thinking that the money would make him commit to the material needed to be learned. I get the band together twice to mix together, see how people rehearse on their own. We have good rehearsals, progress is made.

While on a trip to the West Coast, the current guitarist, Dustin, opts out because of beliefs against paying one person and nobody else. I draw up a manifesto while on a much needed vacation to persuade him to stay, where I basically cancel outings with my family to come up with a solution. Alas, he doesn't bite. The rest of the band finds this as a valid belief system, I seek another guitarist.

DECEMBER 2009: I come up with another guitarist to complete the five piece dream. He is Matt Anderson, of The Engagement fame. We have one rehearsal with him. Progress hasn't been made since the last rehearsal. Matt's a great guitar player, however, and I attempt to reign him in some more. He cancels out on each rehearsal thereafter, finally telling me that he can't commit to his job and two bands at the same time. I understand.

As Scotty practices in the back room one night, I get a knock on the front door. It's my neighbor, complaining about the noise. Back in November, I ventured over to tell her that I would be starting up another band in the back. As I did this, her dog escaped from her clutches and bit me on the ass, tearing my pants to shreds. We had come to an agreement to stop noise at 9:00pm. It is 8:00pm on this new visit. She threatens to call the cops on me if I ever have another rehearsal again. If I can make the noise "half-volume" then it would be okay. I tell her that's impossible, there's only one person currently in the back, that's 1/5th volume right there. She says I have to go find a new place to practice.

Scotty leaves for Maine a couple days later for Winter Break. In this time I seek to find both a new space and a new lead guitarist.

JANUARY 2010: I find a new space at Citysound. My friend Eric points me in the direction of this space through his old band, Solid Gold, and a collaborator named Lucas. Upon hearing about us wanting to move in, Solid Gold opts to move out, making the rent higher. We now pay $200 as a band, along with all but one paying Scotty. I also make an executive decision to go as a four piece from here on out. I'm not having any luck finding another guitarist.

Scotty returns at the end of the month, and we have one rehearsal as a four piece. It's productive, but not the best. A week later, the bills need to be paid to Citysound, Lucas, and Scotty. Adri opts out at this point, stating that he cannot pay for everything now, and that he can't commit to two bands and looking for a job, having been recently laid off from his day job. Rehearsals have to go on hold.

I find responses to my Bassist Needed ads on the web, but they all ask why we're paying the drummer and nobody else. Eric has texted me in the meantime, asking if I still needed a bass player. I trust him and his abilities, I say sure.

FEBRUARY 2010: Eric becomes the next bass player. Two rehearsals are had, but again they're not as productive as I'd like. I start opting to take out everything we've learned so far, thinking that our current setup is not conducive to the material just yet. In time it will be. I draw up new plans, and we start working on them. The sound is good, the material solid. I'm finally happy with the setup and the direction we are going.

MARCH 2010: Just before the first rehearsal of the month, Eric opts out due to the hefty fees, the job obligations, and not being able to commit to more than one band at a time. A recurring theme. The fees for Scotty and rent go up so much so that I become resilient to keep paying Scotty at all.

Currently, I'm at a crossroads. My live band is falling apart. My drummer is on the fritz due to money constraints, I've lost my fourth player. I've thought to become a three piece, but the money is a major factor now if Patch is to be a three-piece. Everything I had back in October/November has fallen apart. I am paying an arm and a leg due to mainly two factors: being outed from my home's rehearsal space and having a committed drummer who wishes to be paid at every rehearsal.

I'm a man come apart.

Yet, I did receive the final master of Schematics today. But I quite possibly have no live band to show for it.

"Follow your dreams" is a bullshit statement at the moment.

Reflector

Flashback: 2006 . . . April 21 . . .

I took a look at a one way mirror, reflecting me, my soulmate was looking at me from the other side. It was probably one of the most poignant relationships I've had to this day. I saw what I was, she saw what I was. For the first time.

It was only a matter of time before I put everything in perspective. The day it came to me was this day . . . and it was too late. I understood why she treated me the way she had for the entire relationship.

I love her to this day for it. I hate myself to this day for it.

It was this day we parted ways . . .

. . . cut from veins . . .

Sunday Stroll

I've had a good time so far with "Veins". This is Day 5 of recording, after starting it a week ago. It should be Day 6, and I should be working on it now, but whatever.

That's the point. It's been pleasurable. But I don't want to make it seem like an obligation unless it IS an obligation. I have an obligation to get the current project done two weeks from now, due to a Patch Live order of business. And we'll leave it at that. I'll take my time with "Veins". I don't want it to be another "Schematics", where I became feverish and bulgy eyed at the end. "Switch" was brutal. A two week sprint. You can hear the fever during the last minute or so of the song. The screams were due to a hoarse throat, with coughing fits in between takes, hawking up snot. But I had to get it done by May 4th, had to get it done by then, had to. And then . . . the reason it was supposed to be done became redundant. Mixing went on hiatus for the summer. At least I was done with it.

Having gone through that experience, I don't want to do it again, unless it was absolutely necessary. So I'll take my time with this. Concentrate on Patch Live necessities for the time being. I'll bide my time with "Veins", like a Sunday stroll in the park.

So far, it sounds brutal and mature. I'm liking it.

*EDIT* -- So, after taking a look at the necessities of Patch Live, "Veins" has become a necessity by default. Looks like it will be feverish and sprinted. At least it's only for one song.

Back in Session

The "Cutting Veins" Sessions have started. Hopefully these will go faster than the "Schematics" sessions that lasted a whole year. Five songs there. Four here. I want to crank these babies out in three weeks or less each.

Bad Romance

I saw the Minstrel when he went too far . . .
I saw the Carnival where he went too far . . .
They don't know me
They don't know me
Yet they care that I stare

I saw the whole thing, I saw the whole thing go down
I saw the making of the nuclear bomb
I don't know them
I don't know them
But frankly I don't care

You did this to yourselves

Break yourselves from all you've wanted
Shed some light on who you are (Turn the lights off)
Find my life in your depressions
Made prescriptions from your highest scriptures
Which one is a copy?
And which one was original?

Another itched . . .
Another itched . . .
And another itched . . .
Yet another itched . . .

The Black Cloud Over Patch Continues to Rain Down on my Persistent Climb

Adri has left the live band. Which puts me at a fork in the road.

I will feverishly search for a new bassist. If this doesn't turn up any results by the end of the Super Bowl on February 7th . . . we're going three piece.

That might be interesting . . .

Breaking My Rule Already

Another light bulb went off in the bathroom just now . . . "On Veins and Nothing" . . . hmmmmmmmm . . .

Fuck Limbo

I have a habit of getting excited easily. I also have a habit of announcing what it is I'm excited about too early in the game. Omiss is one of those things.

I'm sick of Omiss. The way it is . . . it's too complicated, and it wasn't supposed to be that difficult of a project.

I'm thinking about keeping one track, Limbo, since it pretty much covers the gist of Omiss. The rest of Project 2? Let's just say I'm currently looking into topics other than the Limbo of Love for some inspiration. More muses are coming from those areas anyway . . . plus, I think the inspiration for Omiss has subsided in reality for the time being. It's actually made me more calm.

Currently reading Howard Zinn in sort of an observance of his recent death. Maybe I can come up with another "Nebraska" this weekend.

Getting Out of Limbo

I'm hoping to finish the rough draft of Omiss in the next couple of days. I'm also gunning for February 1st to be the first day of the Omiss Sessions. How long it's going to take, I don't know. It was planned to be of a simpler nature than things I've done in the past, but I'm sure there will be obstacles within.

It's really going to rest on my ability to quickly make interesting dynamic electronic drum loops. The rest is pretty simple and DIY.

I had a warm-up session with an old song yesterday and today, a project for my good friend David Nehring. Laying vocals down for a song he and his brother Matt recorded a while back. It was fun getting back into recording after The Lizard People stint in early fall of '09.

Once I find some free time from Omiss, there are also plans to re-record vocals for some reworked Citizens Banned songs, also worked on by Dave. Lots of recording to be had in these wintry months.

A New Beginning

Moved into the new space this weekend. Had our first official rehearsal this afternoon.

I say first OFFICIAL rehearsal only in that it was after a long spout of inactivity. During this time I was figuring out the setup of the band, the space, it was unfocused. Now, it's full speed ahead until we hit the stage. When that will happen exactly I can't say. I CAN say in the spring, though.

Here's a snippet of an intro to Typosgraphy . . .

One Sided Transactions

Rest does not happen in my bedroom. It happens on the living room couch or at Borders.

The splendid thing about Borders is that inspiration tends to be a byproduct of a visit there. Books are read, the mind wanders, coffee is consumed, ideas sprout. I just came up with album art for Omiss (and my first tattoo design, if it sticks), for one. Now, at home, listening to music on Lala.com, I hope to finish the initial rough draft for Omiss. Two songs left.

Omiss, again, deals with the connection one has with those they become smitten with. Is the connection returned or realized by the other? Does it matter? When should it matter?

I read a book entitled "How to Live" by Henry Alford this afternoon. It wasn't a self-help book, a cheesy cash-in for the coffee/tea drinking proverb seeking intellectual. It was a heartfelt insight into seeking answers to a big question: what is wisdom? And do the elderly hold the answer for the rest of us still attempting to start in our wisdom garnering?

Looking up from my reading, I saw a woman that I recognized at a table across from mine. She is a bank teller at the bank I frequent, a manager, if I'm not mistaken. One day she deposited a check for me, and I was a little smitten with her (having just watched "Catch Me If You Can" last night whilst nursing a cold, I find this funny). She was beautiful, still is. She has an interesting walk, seemingly wrought from walking back and forth in the bank and screwing up her calves from the massive high heels she wears with her form fitting slacks. I couldn't tell if it was her or not at first at Borders, but when she got up to get coffee, that walk was the answer I needed.

I wasn't about to go over to talk to her, seeing as though I have no basis of conversation with her, other than "Hey, you work at the bank! You put my check into my account, once! You . . . also . . . walk cool?"

I took this opportunity to inflict some of the basis and feeling behind Omiss to what I was reading, sending my brain into a fury of theory and creativity. A connection was there, but she didn't know it. Maybe there's one on her end, but it's not noticed by me either. I'll assume she thought I looked familiar, but couldn't care less about me.

But to know that you can have an effect on people, people who wouldn't embark on developing a relationship with you, but keeping you in their thoughts anyway. It's a tier below (or maybe above) celebrity fixation. Living and knowing a person without them knowing you.

Omission.

But omitting on your own accord . . . embarking on a relationship might make you want to forget that person in the end. From having a bad relationship, a boring one, a great one but where you hardly think about the person unless you're with them, they're conveniently around, etc. Omiss-ing on your own accord: could it be the best relationship you never knew you could have? If you were okay not being involved with them, then how many of these relationships might you have coexisting at the same time? And which of them do you walk out of that limbo for, killing possibility and finding either rejection or reciprocation?

I guess I'm asking if this is the best relationship, a quasi-Plato style way of thinking about love, or if it's just an important style of relationship that we tend to not think too much about.

Food for thought this Sunday . . . inspiration chasing . . .

Favorable Reactions

Trying to do what I want to do career wise, it's hard to be okay with novelty.

What I mean is, whenever I explain a work or a project, people have one of two reactions. 1) Awesome! 2) They argue my thesis, or what I'm trying to say in that art. These are both favorable reactions, given that they could have none at all, or doing the faux act of "nodding and smiling". "It's cool, yeah." Sure.

I've struck it nicely so far. I've met opposition with my parents regarding "In Hopes to Mend" and the aspect of rape. Rape is a recurring theme in my work, it seems. Well, rape in the most "appropriate" form. I put that in quotations since rape is obviously not appropriate in any form, but at what point does politically incorrect meet up with taste? Projects that seem to be completely disgusting and outlandish in my mind are more met with the former reaction of Awesome! Projects that seem to be safer are met with the latter, full of argument.

Omiss has garnered argument moreso than Necrotica. Necrotica deals with a lust killer, a man keeping an illness under wraps in his head, thrust into a situation where he might lose control of his mental stability and commit murder in real life (I'm trying not to give too much away). Omiss is personal, a true story, about me and my thoughts on certain people in my life. Without telling who the story is about, people still ask questions on what it means. It's obviously about one person, but who it's about I'm not telling. That's for me to know and for you to find out if the cards are right and the stars aligned.

It still surprises me, though, both reactions. I'm the most humble person you're ever going to meet. I take pride in my work, and I love it to death, but it's easily scrapable. Meaning if, for instance, the band doesn't like the song, it's not giving them the willies as other songs might, I might just say "Fuck it, I'll rewrite it. Let's move on to the next thing on the list." But at first, I feel slapped with the argument reaction. I go, "Wait, there's something wrong with this way of thinking? I'm sorry." I can either defend it, or listen to their comments outright and assimilate what they say into the reworked story or project. Again, though, it's shakes me up at first. When people like the work or argue with it, that means it's doing it's job. Making people think and empathize.

That's the goal, and so far I'm meeting that with the recordings and story pitches. I can't speak about the live band yet, but I garner I will be able to once March rolls around. Same goes for the recordings, since they will be released to the public at that time, too. That's the true test of goal preservation and/or rethinking.

The Brainwashed Eyes for CGI

I hate on CGI. I do. I can't stand it. If it's seamless, go for it. Lots of cool green screen overlays and backgrounds have wow'd me (most of television uses green screens for their city backgrounds, since they film on a soundstage or studio backlot). But I think we're brainwashed into thinking CGI is a good thing.

Avatar was fake to me.

The Abyss and Terminator 2 were not.

Am I the only one who was distracted by the CGI in Avatar? Everyone's flaunting the movie as the NEXT BIG THING . . . for what, furthering the suspension of stupidity for believing cartoon characters amidst live action shots? Give me full on computer animation, Pixar, whatever, but I hate blending. It kills it.

Christopher Nolan only used CGI when it was ABSOLUTELY necessary in the Batman resurgence. Everything else was model based. It looked great, despite some obvious computered images. The aforementioned T2 and Abyss . . . they used liquid forms in their computer generated images, and it was fine. The T-1000 was great, since it was minimal. The alien form in Abyss was water based, it looked cool. You can't do convincing modeling with liquid forms without making it look cheesy.

Yeah, Avatar made me cry. Not gonna lie. But Dances with Wolves is better. Just sayin'. Ain't one bit o' CGI going on there. It's more convincing.

Sorry for pooing all over the Avatar craze, but yeah . . . CGI still isn't cutting it for me.

Bukowski Might Have Said This

On my calendar, there's a nice little bunch of blocked off sections of color coded events marked "OMISS WRITING". In this time of no live activity, I've tried my damndest to come up with 3 good songs to record in the next month. Holy Hell, I forgot how much I hated obligatory writing.

You can't rush this sort of thing. All of my songs came to me sporadically, whilst on the bus, doing work at a day job . . . more often than not, while shitting on the toilet. The only song that was forced, like literally forced out of me in an extreme bout of frustration due to booking a hotel room and shacking up by myself for the entire night to write an entire EP's worth of material . . . was "Trachomanic". That was the only time something stuck out of force. The rest came out of the blue.

I've got some good ideas, but they're complicated. I wanted this to be more found instrument based, pots and pans, acoustic, electronic loops, nothing too difficult. I'm currently futzing with a song that has crazy drum loops that change from one section to the next.

How's about we take a break from all this and write when it hits me in the shower? I might just scrap a lot of what I've got for the sake of simplicity. I don't want this to turn into another "Schematics", slaving away for a year in my room. A month at most should be the timetable.

Don't force art. It will turn out shitty. If it has to be forced, set up a strict deadline so that you get creative out of necessity. But it can't be a made up deadline that you make for your own timetable, it has to be something for someone else . . . I can't explain it.

Just cool it, Pete. No pressure.

Moving plans have changed, as well. Solid Gold is moving from the space and forfeiting their keys and cards over to us. We move next week, most likely. We also resume rehearsals next weekend.

This time they won't let up until we have live shows.

She Smiled At Me

She smiled at me today.

I can't call it love, honestly, but there's something there on my end.

I've lost myself in the discombobulation of sex and physicality. I've grown bored of this front. The vaginal walls of "lovers" grow wider with age, stretched with use, and I feel less and less. I'm a loving prostitute, I give you pleasure, but I'm left with the baggage of another checkmark, and a means to get out.

Leave me alone.

I need to know this one before I can touch the ground again. She makes me throw that cursed physical molasses film coating my empathetic heart into the laundry hamper.
I no longer want her as an Omiss. But it could be for the best.

It might be the best for love, but my head won't rest until I act . . .

Karmath the Blog's Residual Effects

In December, near the end of my year long daily journal Karmath the Blog, I used Vic Chesnutt's music to help rein in some of my negative feelings about the holiday season. Thoughts about the emptiness of certain Christmas attributes and how I've lost myself in both positivity and negativity when it comes to seeing my family at this time of the year, etc.

Turns out Vic Chesnutt died on Christmas Day, 2009, after overdosing on muscle relaxants.

Take from that what you will. I call it a negative affirmation, if anything.

Thinking of you, Vic . . .

The Interim

Post-Holidays is a definite drag. You really do start to realize the full extent of the Winter Limbo that will take residence all around you for four proceeding months if you're within the northern part of the States. That foreboding sense of doom and "Oh god . . ."

Today, it caught up to me in full force. Sipping on a beer, looking for a muse through two inspirational heads: Radio and Portis . . . alas, nothing for tonight, except a bit of depression and want for what I'm currently writing about in Project 2. Love and feeling the pressure of what's to come in the next season, both in terms of weather and in Patch. I've battled for a rehearsal space, I'm trying to acquire a lead guitarist. So far, all of my searches and leads in the guitarist department have come up short. It's a small interim, a passage of gloominess, and I'll see the light once I get some time to myself, I suppose. This happens to the best of us.

The interim. I'd like to finish writing Omiss this weekend and finally put the guitarist situation to rest. Thirdly, I need to prepare the new material for Live rehearsals and get ready for the big move to the new space. We'll be bunking up with Solid Gold, quite possibly the most successful local band in the Cities, currently. It should be interesting, to say the least. An electro-pop band mixing with an electro-proggy-grunge outfit. Time will tell . . .

Project 2: Omiss

Quite possibly the first true to life, all me, present day journal-ish musical project I've ever done. No characters here. No extensions.

All me.

And all her.