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(1 stranger with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) He Wants A Shoehorn, The Kind With Teeth [14 Jan 2009|01:15am] [ music | TMBG - Kiss Me. Son of God ] Because he knows there's no such thing. Honestly, though, I just spent about 3 hours messing with encoding options. Finally, I decided on 192 constant bitrate. I can't always tell the difference between 192 variable and 192 constant bitrate. In fact, I usually can't, so I wanted to go with 192 variable, but it's glitchy with song length tags, so I went with the slightly bigger 192 constant. Soon hard drives will be big enough that I can just suck it up and go FLAC constantly. Not necessarily because I can tell the difference, because I probably can't, but just to have some luckproofing. In other news, real and/or imagined romantic escapades are pretty funny and largely unsuccessful, but what can you do? I'm happy with where I am in life right now, so it's no biggie. I highly recommend Lincoln by They Might Be Giants, by the way. It has the capacity to be pretty deep with the lyrics, but every single song is basically a blueprint for how to make an awesome pop song. There's a reason I've always loved these guys. I feel great and alive, if you were wondering, and you should feel the same way.

("come down now," they'll say) You Make the Choice, You Make the Choice [29 Oct 2008|02:53am] An early Neutral Milk Hotel recording came up on shuffle today. NMH has kind of built up as being a slightly inaccessible definitely illegible masterpiece deal. The early song that came on was just a sloppy, direct pop song. The lesson? I don't need to worry about writing a masterpiece or anything. If I do what works for me, things will just work out.

(2 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) The Mind That Knows Itself Has a Mind to Serve the Other [28 Oct 2008|01:50am] [ mood | contemplative ] [ music | Sufjan Stevens - The Avalanche ] I always just give some sort of thought dump. Maybe I should start posting stories on here. I have some snippets for story ideas. I could develop them, maybe. A lot of my artistic process is a struggle between the abstract and the concrete. Do I mean to tell stories? Do I mean to convey feeling? Can there be a true balance between the two? The ultimate goal is something that I am proud of that says something about me. It must be possible to share it with others. As with all things in my life, my ego gets in the way. But doesn't all art necessarily depend on the ego of the creator? I don't really know, but I could stand to downsize it. I'm obsessed with how the art will be perceived, when perhaps I should be obsessed more with creating the art itself. It's kind of crippling, but it's a crisis I have to go through, I think. Maybe I'll come out with some good answers. That dilemma aside, nobody really goes on facebook anymore, so I can more or less talk about my girl situation openly. There is a girl I'm interested in at the moment. I guess we'll see where it goes. We've gone on the one date, and she seems really cool. I didn't necessarily feel anything big, but I don't know if I'm supposed to. I have the tremendous disadvantage (or perhaps it's an advantage) that my first real romance was 100% love at first sight. Is this what it will always be for me in the future? I don't know. With absolutely no disrespect to any other person in my life, nothing has made me feel like I did back then. It definitely bothers me. I wonder if I've been totally ruined for the rest of my life. Was the intensity just the hormones, or was it the relationship, or was it the drastic changes in my life? I think I ask too many questions with not nearly enough answers. Well, if you've managed to make it through all of that, then I'm happy to know that you are at least curious enough for gossip or that you're a good friend. I'm curious as to how many of you still read your friends page. I know a few of you still post on your journals. So, if you're here reading this, even if you have nothing to say, drop me a comment just so I can get an idea of who's still on here.

("come down now," they'll say) E6 Holiday Surprise [21 Oct 2008|03:09am] It was the best concert I've ever been to. In addition, I met Jeff, and got to hear him sing (INCLUDING ONE OF HIS OWN) live. I'll do a real writeup some time after I'm not so shell-shocked, but for posterity I wanted to have at least a little of me in the state I am on archive. This was amazing and I'm so very very happy. Goodnight.

(2 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) A Short Post With Nothing to Talk About [13 Oct 2008|01:05am] [ mood | sleepy ] Don't really have anything on my mind, but I felt like I wanted to post something anyway. Today was a really nice wind-down day. I didn't really do anything at all. There's something nice about just lying around all day playing video games with friends, if you just let it be nice in the first place. I don't know when my ego got so horribly bent out of shape that I started second guessing myself constantly, but fun is fun, and to a certain extent there's no higher or lower fun, they're just all different. I've been trying to kick the vestiges of snob that I still have left out. I want to be able to just enjoy things I like, not enjoy things I don't like and stop worrying about what other people think. Living with 9 other guys is starting to add a different component, though. I never used to have the male ego. If there was one thing I didn't have to think about, it was being a badass. Now I feel like I complicate things by thinking about it too much, and I should kick that habit soon. It's relatively new so I should be able to deal with it, I think. Also, the girl post will maybe come at a certain point, but so much of it so fleeting and/or cliche that I don't really care to post it. This isn't an ego thing, this is just a notreallyworthposting thing. Things are nice to get off your chest sometimes, even if they all amount to nothing anyway. Peace, Love, and Barq's Root Beer

(1 stranger with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Always Neglected, Never Insincere? [07 Oct 2008|11:51pm] [ mood | pensive ] [ music | Rilo Kiley - Under the Blacklight (credit Mary Getz) ] I kind of miss livejournal in this era of facebook. It's always been a place to passively get out some of the things that I need to get out. I don't think I've been consciously starving myself of it, but now that I think about it in the moment, I wish I could get some of the things I was feeling out better in some other outlets than whining. I constantly talk about how my ultimate goal in music is to get my true self out, but it's hard, and it's frustrating at times, and maybe I've been pulling my punches? I guess practice makes perfect and if I try hard enough things will come out. I only have one verse of one song I've been trying to write for the past few weeks. Maybe I can blame that on being sick, but more likely I'm just lazy. It's harder than I would have thought. When you sit down and try to pour your heart out, any number of things can go wrong. The obvious problem is that often I have nothing to say. Maybe I should stop trying to write in situations like this. In the past, an easy thing to do when I wanted to make music but didn't have anything to sort out was to work on songs I had already written. That way, I know the emotions I had going in, and it's just a matter of editing. Perhaps I should just get some writing out of the way so I can do some of that. The other problem is quite the opposite. There is something I definitely want to say. This problem is compound and difficult. What if the song doesn't fit or convey the message correctly? Then the ego comes in. Am I being too cute? Too cryptic? Not cryptic enough? Will anyone like the music? It's horrible and I wish I could worry less. I want to be sincere, but I also want to be liked. (Isn't that just my slogan?) Brief aside: I did NOT give Under the Blacklight nearly enough credit. Maybe it's just because I didn't have any strong moods. Sophomore year was nothing but strong moods and that made anything good seem great. Is there truly great music, that stands on its own without strong moods? I've grappled with that question for the better part of 4 years. There are so many things I'd like to say that need to get out. Some of them will be here, some of them will be written in stories, some in song, poetry, drawing? I'm so bad at so many of them, but I think I'm getting better at a select few. Stay tuned for updates on my disintegrating girl situations or lack thereof.

("come down now," they'll say) Recap of the Other Night [18 Dec 2007|12:29am] I was really feeling weird the other night. Because of that, I offered to walk around and pick up some checks for the house and get them to Rich. Schalte had some troubles, and Zack got backed up in winter traffic. Because of that, I played banjo in Kyle's room and watched the Beckisode of Futurama. He and I talked a bit about college so far. Now, there are two threads here, and they're kind of tough to watch, so I'll point them out now. There's what I wanted college to be academically, and there's what I wanted college to be spiritually. Kyle remarked that college was going pretty well, and I remarked that it was not. He said he came in not really expecting much and so he couldn't be let down. I realized that what I was expecting out of college spiritually was more or less what I would spiritually get by dropping out. Adventures, lack of luxury, that feeling of drifting without anywhere to go, but also that small sense of stability that makes you know that it's all going to turn out fine. I'm not getting any of that out of college, really. Adventure made way for routine, I'm either around rich people or constantly reminded that I've had every privilege one hundred percent of the time. Quick aside: Back around Sophomore year, I always felt like it was a horrible thing for me to be depressed or want to live without the luxuries afforded to me, for obvious reasons. But the question in my mind is did the obvious reason actually feel that way, or was it a construct of my own guilt? The obvious reason in question reads a lot of Salinger, and Catcher In The Rye was just one big depressed rich boy (also worth noting that I absolutely adored the book and intend to buy a copy whenever a used one shows up). So the spiritual side was feeling empty. Also, the academic side was feeling empty. It wasn't until I hit the road that both of these kind of came around. It was well past midnight on a Sunday, and it was freezing cold. For whatever reason, I had grabbed The Postal Service CD on my way out. Clark Gable was just about the best backdrop for a philosophical reevaluation that I could have hoped for. While I still regret that nothing these days smashes me like the old stuff does, there's plenty of time left ahead of me. So, as the snow filled up the cuffs of my brown corduroy, I thought to myself about everything. It was well past midnight on a Sunday, and it was freezing cold! I was running around on a wild goose chase to bring not even enough checks to sign the house to Rich. After that, I was going to go sneak into a dorm to sleep in my friend's bed. How was this not adventure, how was this not a lack of luxury? People have cars, people have MP3 players and real headphones. They don't walk around in the freezing cold with a CD and some headphones they spliced together out of refuse! It's all what you make of it. Sure, I'll probably never be homeless and destitute, but for a rich kid, I sure have a lot of hand-me-down crap. The only things on my body that had not gone through at least one other person were my underpants, my winter coat (the other one was small, and ripped winter jackets are bad for Michigan winter), and my scarf (a gift because I lost the other one). Then came the academic questions. I figured if I was on a roll and had figured out one thing about college, I may as well deal with the rest. Why the hell was I here? I don't know if I want to be an engineer. I don't even know if I want a steady career, and that's when it hit me. They had shot me from behind. Those Maize and Blue bastards had got me thinking about my life in terms of a career! I didn't come here for that! When I checked the box to go to the College of Engineering, I swore to myself that it wasn't just to be an engineer. That could be a perk, yes, but I came to college to learn. Of course I wasn't getting out of college what I wanted to get out. It was so hard to study because my only motivation was some shitty desk job fixing computers to deal with the next Y2K-esque hoax. Instead, I could have just been learning, for Pete's sake. At about that time I found Rich's apartment, fulfilled and somewhat euphoric. Call it hypomania, although I really doubt I'm bipolar, regardless of whether my moronic self-deprecating tendencies make me want to be. I really think I hit something. The theme? I thought to myself as I asked the smokers to let me into the building that I probably shouldn't have been in. Who knows what the fucking theme is. It's been a night that's given me hope, and if I try to make so many rules for myself to live by, it'll take out most of the fun that I had just got back. Over and Out Scott PS: Guitar part for the first couple of verses of a song on the demo is done, but something about the vocals isn't right. I might just slap them on there anyway and call it a day just because they're demos after all

("come down now," they'll say) 3:19 and I'm Feeling Fine [18 Nov 2007|03:19am] Or not. I'm actually feeling pretty bad, but it didn't make as good a title. There has to be something to add to this life. Some injection of romance. This isn't to say that I need a romantic relationship. It would certainly help, but it isn't necessary. I need the kind of romance that may potentially slip away with the years: the youthful sense that you can do anything even if you're fucked up through all of it. Things weren't always great, but there was always something there. Something that made everything extraordinary out of the real and mundane. Something that made lying on the floor wasting away an eternal connection between four people, joined in soul and joined in time. Whatever it is, it's absent at this moment in time. I'm alone and I need an intimate relationship. I need someone I can really talk to. Someone who sees through all of my bullshit to my core, because I'm not really that bad. Beneath the layers of defense mechanisms, beneath the part of me that spews nonsense when someone calls me on anything, there's a messed up little thing that's writing a ridiculous message on an internet journal wondering if anyone even cares. Geographic location is a bitch, and this isn't how it was supposed to go down. Part of me fucks with people and jokes about dropping out of college knowing that I'd never have the courage to do anything like that. Part of me wishes I could just drop out in the first place and search for what I need. The whole of me finds it scary that I can honestly want to drop out of college sometimes. I'm looking out the window next to me. It's night, it's Autumn, and there are no people on the road. I want to go out walking until everything I need is standing in front of me on the sidewalk and all I need to do is reach out and grab it. It's not out there, but the disturbing part is that even if it were, I know I wouldn't bother to make the trip. I'm kind of glad I found this again, though. It gives me some place to put feelings like this. Even if it's depressing, there's catharsis in letting everything out to the stream of consciousness and watching your fingers type your feelings. That's more than enough, have a good night.

(1 stranger with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) You Look So Pretty From Up High [15 Nov 2007|10:58am] So, I met a few new people yesterday, that was cool. Especially considering how bad I am at doing that. At the same time, I ditched a friend that I had told I would play a game with to do it (Sorry Paul!) but I apologized afterwards, and he didn't seem all that broken up about it. I always feel strange when I have so little to say but write anyway. It's fine, though, just trying to get back in the habit. I don't really consider livejournal a waste of time. It ends up being incredibly cathartic sometimes. Once I figure out where the hell to find XLR cable, I'm going to buy some and then go get an RCA to 1/8 inch jack converter. It's male RCA, female 1/8 inch jack, so it'll be weird. Anyway, once I get all of that crap, then I will start actually recording the album. I've got a few songs lined up and a few that need to be fleshed out. Once I can actually hear things and add things, though, the process gets much easier. Making songs without overdubbing is difficult because I can't quite imagine exactly what all of the parts are doing. I always know what I want, but it's tough to get right without experimentation. I think I'll burn a copy of Funeral for today. Reaffirm my faith in music. ~We can hide away / In Our Dreams

("come down now," they'll say) The Movements Were Beautiful, All In Your Ovaries? [12 Nov 2007|01:10am] [ music | The Postal Service - We Will Become Silhouettes ] Things are certainly strange these days. I'm getting to an age when nostalgia starts to hit hard. My problem is not necessarily a lack of energy but an occasional lack of motivation and a severe loss of the temporal schema of "now." As Spike Spiegel put it, "I've been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other. So, I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture. / I felt like I was watching a dream I could never wake up from. Before I knew it, the dream was all over." It's not really all that depressing at the moment, so it's perhaps not the best quote, but it sums it up pretty well. The lows are getting pretty low, though, and the highs certainly aren't getting any higher. I need to meet more people, to take more risks. Give the old Corpus Callosum some exercise (apparently people who take more risks have it more developed. I don't know if it's the cause or the effect) I did however, have some weird ideas. One would be a frame story about a party I went to. The first frame would be me telling someone about it, then it would be a flashback to the party. It would be dark without too much color. Then, when I describe all of the people, there would be flashbacks and flashforwards in very vibrant color describing what I knew of them. If anyone wants to hand me a contract, I feel like I could make it with $5,000 if I didn't have to pay too much for actors or a camera. I'll describe it to anyone in detail, because it's actually kind of a neat idea that I will somewhat purposefully never make into anything. Also, I have an idea for a novel about a Developmental Psychologist studying the first generation of adults that grew up in low gravity and the profound effects it had on them. Over and Out ~S

(2 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) YEAAARGH! [16 May 2007|10:16pm] Thank you so much everyone who supported me! Thank you Karl, Nick, Vicky, Brian, and Tim, for taking time out of your very very busy schedules to play with me! Thnak you Mr. Ferden for the constructive criticism and standing in for trombone! I'm on top of the world, still, and it's been at least an hour. I'll record it later.

(2 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Yes. [29 Nov 2006|07:20pm] arekmenner@gmail.com to steve@wcsx.com I was listening to what I believe to be your program around 9:00 Tuesday, November 28 on 94.7. You played Space Oddity and then immediately after played Ashes to Ashes, both by David Bowie. I would like to tell you that this is exactly why you are awesome. Ashes to Ashes is like the sequel to Space Oddity, and I thought I was the only person who would cue them up next to each other. Regardless, lo and behold, you put them right next to each other on the radio. It was phenomenal, thank you. Also, if you can remember this far back, it was actually your program, and you have a hand in picking what music is played (I would assume you do, but there are plenty of practices in radio today that disappoint me) you played a version of David Bowie's "Heroes" immediately after. The lyrics were all jumbled up, similar to a live cover by King Crimson I once saw. I looked on the WCSX website, and it had it listed as Bowie. I have only heard the single version of "Heroes", however, and the voice sounded kind of like Bowie. If you can remember, please tell me what version that one was. Really, though, you've made my day, and possibly the next couple of days with that little Space Oddity and Ashes to Ashes stunt. Thank you. Scott Walls steve@wcsx.com to arekmenner@gmail.com Scott-Thanks-That was the album version of Heroes. And YES i do have a different feature every night at 9:oopm. The line up is on our website at WCSX.com.Thanks- Steve

("come down now," they'll say) Thanksgiving Update [22 Nov 2006|12:13pm] Yeah, I really haven't had any free time at all, sorry chums. I have some pretty difficult classes. I understand that some other people have a heavier load than I do because I got most of the classes out of the way last year, but I'm really trying to do well this year. I got one A- on my first report card, which put a little kink in my plans to prove to myself that I am smart enough to get a four point at this school. I guess I'll just have to try a little harder. Anyway, I'm getting better at distributing my schoolwork so I can actually hang out with people, so you guys don't hesitate to call or anything. I've been hanging out with pretty much one person. It kind of skews the sense of proportion, and you start to forget that there are other people in the world hahah. Trust me, it's not exactly as it sounds, but you know, whatever. I've been getting back into Jet Set Radio, which made me want to start hanging out with Pat again, so I think I'll try and do that. I really haven't been having much fun at all recently, so I'd like to fix that. I'm also getting into some new music, Califone is looking pretty good. I think I'm going to go down to wherever and pick up their album and Michigan, because I really want both of them. Anyway, the quick summary: Call me up, don't get pissed off if I'm moody, please. I apologize in advance. All Is Full Of Love

(9 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Umm... What About Me? [23 Oct 2006|09:25pm] I haven't seen a yogurt commercial in about a billion years that didn't target women almost exclusively. Seriously? I dig yogurt. I'm eating some of it right now, and it is delicious. Men and women, alike, holler if you like yogurt or if you don't like silly advertising.

(3 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Fixed [11 Sep 2006|05:17am] I'm bloody invincible! Fixed two CD players in as many days.

("come down now," they'll say) Eh? [11 Sep 2006|04:51am] It's 4:51 right now, and I'm fixing a CD player with a set of precision screwdrivers. I fixed one yesterday, and I felt kind of invincible. This one might have a shot motor, though, we'll see. I think I'll write some things in my notebook today. That will make me feel good, too, or something.

(1 stranger with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Very Very Mad World [09 Sep 2006|07:40pm] I missed love stories. I'm reading this comic right now that makes me really long for things. It's a feeling that I hadn't had in a while. It's difficult to explain. It's very interesting, though. When I told some of my close friends about a rather strange little fantasy I had, they actually took it really well. Hah, it's good to feel like people know you well enough not to be surprised. In other news, I feel like writing stories. Lots of them. I wish I could make them into poetry and write songs, but that's tough for me, so I'll just write stories. I'll probably write them in here. See you all.

("come down now," they'll say) Can't Run Away [05 Sep 2006|06:40pm] Today was nice. I charged my batteries last night, so I had Sufjan Stevens playing when I walked to school. Black Hawk War got to the good part with the triumphant trumpets and thunderous bass drum bellowing when I looked at the clear sky and saw the stars. Then I marched along to school at 5:00 in the morning for the first time in a while. I skipped all of the songs that weren't fanfares until I got into the school, when I listened to Casimir Pulaski Day and danced to The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades while nobody was there but me and the janitor. Then I did some work for Mr. Taylor. I got to use the fabled long stapler and fold the packets that I knew were going for the lecture. Then I talked to Deyo and Domanski and lots of other teachers. Then there were a lot of people at school, and I came to grips with it. The summer spoiled me. When there were too many people around, I could hide in a cabinet, or in the shadows, or just leave. At school there is no such luxury. In other news, I'm getting chops back at trumpet. I'm sure I had something to say here, but it's not coming, so goodbye. PS: I never got into El Goonish Shive (webcomic) but the new story arc is all about genderbending. It's like it was made for me.

(3 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) When We Just Couldn't Close Our Eyes To Sleep [01 Sep 2006|10:23am] I've been feeling kind of inspired to do things recently, and school's starting up, and I can be productive in that way that I don't have to cut any corners. I know it's going to be different when school starts, but that's okay. I'm fine with what I have now. I think I should start writing poetry before I write songs. Whenever I try and fit words to songs, they just come out confusing or trite. Or maybe I should just try it again now that my muse is whispering in my ear. I couldn't stop crying in bed the other day. At first, I just told a couple of people very dear to me, but I guess something about the internet makes me feel like spilling my guts here. I was reading in bed, and when I stopped, I guess it gripped me that this is senior year, and in just one year I'm going to have to say goodbye to everything that made me who I am. I thought about what words I'd have to say, and realized that I'm just going to cry again in a year, which I think I'm fine with. I am, however, a headcase of identity crisis, and I wonder how I'm going to do when most of what I used to define myself is behind me. I guess I'll have to find new things, or worse, actually become my own person. All part of growing up, eh? Relax, this happens to everyone.

(2 strangers with your doorkey "come down now," they'll say) Isn't It Odd How You Are Your Friends? [16 Aug 2006|12:19am] [ music | The Benefits of Lying With Your Friends (It's In My Head) ] I walked the I think 5ish miles to Steve's house today on a whim. More to walk than for any other reason aside from not being home. Things tend to sort themselves out in your mind. Or at the very least unsort themselves if they were in the wrong order or whatnot. After a while you just kind of feel a little enlightened. The conclusions? It's just not worth it to hate myself for a long time, it's not like life or even the particular solution is ruined. I just have to be thankful for what I have and let the mood pass, na? (Not to say that the mood passing will be fun >_<)

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