this is not an EP starter
but I don’t think it’s a throw-a-way either.
to the ironing board!
Fugitive (samplitude mix) | thecolortwo
early digital mix. last EP song (although I’ll probably add another just to round it out.) Pro-tools-ing it out tomorrow. Samplitude is ok, but seems to futz with the quality a bit.
look. we’ve got to get it straight from the mouth before it complicates the sounds and disobeys the brain. sabotage is just a little game. A bored bolt of lightning sparks an open plain. As innocent as the ensuing fires that will rage, all over the tracks you made. So it waits, for the best kind of opening to strike before it’s on it’s way. Without any trace, of the troubles you think that you don’t save
while you harbor them away
It’s your own damn fault for letting them underneath your skin. Watch those monsters crawl through the trapdoor you’ve left open.
and that’s what I don’t get…whilst discovering your purpose, will we ever intersect? or does everything go in circles?
so.
fuck the next five words. and everything you think you heard. or do you only entertain the absurd?
It’s your own damn fault for letting them underneath your skin. as you let them make your calls so you can live like a fugitive. Watch those monsters crawl through the doors that you leave open.
and that’s what I don’t get…whilst discovering your purpose, will we ever intersect? or does everything go in circles?
early analog mix. Probably going to switch to digital because methinks this one needs lots of little twinking.
Although right now I have to get lunch and throw together a last minute panic costume for the Thriller themed party I will be attempting to motivate myself to be social and attend this evening.
(my hope’s on some sort of zombie/back to the future hybrid, but we’ll see. oh we’ll see.)
Fugitive 20/52 (albeit not officially.) p.s tumblr hates text formatting
look. we’ve got to get it straight from the mouth before it complicates the sounds and disobeys the brain. sabotage is just a little game. A bored bolt of lightning sparks an open plain. As innocent as the ensuing fires that will rage, all over the tracks you made. So it waits, for the best kind of opening to strike before it’s on it’s way. Without any trace, of the troubles you think that you don’t save
while you harbor them away
It’s your own damn fault for letting them underneath your skin. Watch those monsters crawl through the trapdoor you’ve left open.
and that’s what I don’t get…whilst discovering your purpose, will we ever intersect? or does everything go in circles?
so.
fuck the next five words. and everything you think you heard. or do you only entertain the absurd?
It’s your own damn fault for letting them underneath your skin. as you let them make your calls so you can live like a fugitive. Watch those monsters crawl through the doors that you leave open.
and that’s what I don’t get…whilst discovering your purpose, will we ever intersect? or does everything go in circles?
this is a pledge to take a break from “strumm-ier” songs. (in an area that shall be henceforth designated as THE FUTURE)
how they ended up being arranged today. we’ll see if I love/hate it in the morning.
Fugitive
look
we’ve got to get it straight
from the mouth
before it complicates
^the sounds
and disobeys the brain
sabotage
is just a little game
a bored bolt of lightning sparks an open plain
as innocent
as the ensuing fires that will rage
all over the tracks you’ve made
so it waits
for the best kind of opening to strike
before it’s on its way with
out any trace
of the troubles you think that you don’t save
while you harbor them away
it’s your own damn fault for letting
them underneath your skin
watch those monsters crawl
through the trapdoor you’ve left open
and that’s what I don’t get
(whilst discovering your purpose)
will we ever intersect
does everything go in circles?
so
fuck the next five words
and everything that you think you heard
or do you only entertain the absurd?
and that’s what I don’t get
(whilst discovering your purpose)
will we ever intersect
does everything just go in circles?
occidental romance | thecolortwo
new stuff & things. still stuck in my head.
do we all look the same effort you caught yourself between rinse, lather, repeat
just another
constant to interchange
a new toy to discover
has disconcerted me
if I don’t work
I must’ve
sprung a leak
a rock
and every troubling thing
(that hovers over me) - replace
this feigned shock and disbelief
as your patterns find a similar wave
and travel back out to
see if there’s a reason to stay
I’m waking up asleep
please circulate my veins for a while
and i’ll guide you through these streams.
I’ll even show the holdings you claim.
I can’t remember dreams
but still I know you were there
apply till you get it right
Anonymous #4 (louder) - Early version | thecolortwo 19.out.of.52.
(now featuring key changes. I think.)
it must’ve been
in something I said
a tag-along
come to collect
all the debts you bore on
instead of digging their graves
did you think they’d be saved?
you’ll want to get away
before I
there’s irony
to appreciate
it’s not possible
to openly say
what we reciprocate
without giving away
the little monsters we have made
they’ll pull you down till you’re mute to the sound
till the ramparts you march come tumbling down
and the dust clears your head and you’ve checked you’re not dead
or alone
you’ll want to get away
before I
work in progress. 18.out.of.52.
do we all look the same
just another
constant to interchange
a new toy to discover
effort
has disconcerted me
if I don’t work
I must’ve
sprung a leak
you caught yourself between
a rock
and every troubling thing
(that hovers over me) - replace
this feigned shock and disbelief
as your patterns find a similar wave
and travel back out to
see if there’s a reason to stay
I’m waking up asleep
please circulate my veins for a while
and i’ll guide you through these streams.
I’ll even show the holdings you claim.
I can’t remember dreams
but still I know you were there
rinse, lather, repeat
apply till you get it right
probably the most “emo” thing I’ve written recently. hear hear for the 90s.
too late for shouting. still needs some dynamic ironing anyways methinks.
17.75.out.of.52.
and in reference to that anon that asked if I write songs about specific people, this one is about as specific as I’ve been in quite a while.
Tentative lyrics. Still waiting for my title to arrive.
3 to 4
is what you have in store
your masquerade was doomed from the start
a separate display kept safe from your heart
so the blood that it took
was pulling you on its tidal wave.
you always wanted more
than to heed a sequence of chemicals
but one little lie
came out the air
had occasion to pass
your false welcoming stare
“you son of a gun.
you thought you had got away
quick and clean?
you thought you could pick
the parts of your name
to brandish and twist and
as a sign you remain
an infallible list
to be worn like a badge
away from your shame
you were caught at your game
till you
get what comes to you
you can’t be improved
they won’t believe a word
till their voice has been heard
scream out through the crumbling ruins, smiling
“they know best.”
3 to 4
is what they have in store
a punishment and more
they need a need to keep score
till you
get what comes to you
the cracks are coming through
you can’t be improved
till you
get what comes to you
Anonymous asked: Are some of the songs you write about a certain person?
Sadly, all I have are complicated answers for you.
Yes, in some sense I tend to write about a specific circumstance or instance, (sometimes even just a particular phrase) and develop from there. But in terms of how that actually gets accomplished, it becomes a little messier.
Firstly, I generally don’t always have some sort of grand conscious direction that dictates what I get to write about. More often than not, I find myself struggling to interpret the melodies and words that pass through me into something I had a direct hand in. I may start off with a general idea but for the most part, whatever specificity I usually try to start out with, it rarely finishes out being solely about that one specific subject.
It doesn’t always succeed, and more often than not, as I’ve alluded to at times, these things tend to write themselves. At best, all I can hope to do is guide them to where they actually belong and hope that they convey half as much to someone else as they do to me.
Secondly, as a result of that kind of unconscious writing, I actually tend to find myself writing a bit more from my internal voice. Which seems to lead to bits of degree or insight that I wasn’t even considering going into it. I kind of like that. If I manage to pull off anything as I go along this process, I’d hope that it can be creating pieces that work not simply on the individual level of this girl I dated named Q, and we did x y and z together, but in a much more broadly ethereal sense. Like that little whispering voice that never shuts off that we all seem to possess but rarely openly discuss. I want to capture that. I don’t think i’m there yet, but that’s at least where i’m aiming.
I try as hard as possible not to edit myself, but occasionally do to either to take an active role in trying to reign in my chaos to make sure they operate as songs and don’t just wind off into non-listenability, or to protect the innocent. And not-so-innocent, although I’m a bit more prone to call them out directly.
And finally, some things I write are simply based off of fictional stories or interactions in my head that I think have a very universal reality for most folks, myself included. I tend to live in my head a bit, so I’m usually always inventing potentials for nearly everyone I meet.
So, to sum up in short-and-much-less-complicated-answer form; Yes, some things (especially some lines) are very specific to a person or my experiences with them. But no, I really haven’t written that much about this one specific person or that one immaculate moment in luridly, specific detail.
(…at least, not yet. )
(..muahaha?)
ideas keep coming in two’s. 17.5.out.of.52.
1 of 2 unfinished ideas from this morning.
brb | thecolortwo. 17.out.of.52. Photograph by Rachel Winslow.
I must hate genres because I never know what to put for an answer. This for example. What the hell is this. Post lo-fi folk? pre-acoustic indie dream rock? pre-hipster flannel/beard-core? Beck-core? music to do heroin to? I’ve never partook, so I can only imagine. Not that’d i’d mind writing a series of music that serves as a soundtrack to the heroin generation, it’d just seem a bit strange given my complete lack of relative experience is all.
sparse recording, may leave relatively as-is aside from getting cleaner tracks.
hey
I can feel your want to break away
i’d suggest a quick escape
but we’re playing the same damn video game
I get
your masks have got their weight
I thought we’d get around our walls for a change
it seems an impossible dream
you’re just floating on the surface
caught between the waves
you make a perfect postcard
with your disconnected face
I can’t wait
for you to realize you’re running in place
catapult this uncomfortable mess that you
hate from afar but hold tight to your chest
and be just what you happen to be
we’re hearing the same voices
counting back from one
you’re all reactive choices
it’s never what you want
they’ll call you an exception
but they won’t return your calls
as they leave you on the doorstep
with their compliments for lunch
I just don’t get what you see
with your head buried underneath
I no longer understand the music that I’m trying to write. it’s writing itself
It’s a strange feeling.
early contender for the aforementioned project.
like parts and lyrical concept, still need to settle on a tempo and timing and finagle the melody.
love the fact that finagle doesn’t set off any spell check alarms. 15.5/52.
one missed december
walking with the tracks of all who came before
a brand new adventure
and i’m in black and white
after all this time
you’d think you’d have some better ways to broach this line
and while you’re waiting for a window
she sets her sights on someone else
she thinks
“sure, he’s probably an asshole
or better yet, incomplete
the penalties of finding one who looks so sweet”
and as he grabs your hand
you envision the excitement of the next few weeks
and he’ll look so pretty beneath your sheets
so you pour yourself a drink
and mutter as that comet speeds away
to crash another day
but it’s not what you think
not like you’d care
you’ll hold your breath until you sink
your ends justify your means
and you’d have the world if you could just get off your
knees
one missed december
caught up in potentials and places we could be
a brand new adventure
and i’m in technicolor now
and it’s just loud.
Snow2 | thecolortwo 16/52.
kind of a rushing recording (which i’ll fix tomorrow), but kind of like how this turned out. part one of my wintry themed project for creative process.
I wonder if you know
that I can’t let you go
time might make sense to me
if
you’d go and take your leave
with
all the machinery you left in me
a failure to resolve
that haunts your very bones
so cover me in snow
everything must go
you won’t know what this means
until you see their number repeat
so cover me in snow
everything must go
