Briliant Weeks will have a Dumb Shit Day

So this week has been filled with new music. I've written a few tunes, revamped some old songs, and started a recording project. Kenny brought us one of his tunes that he's been working on and that's where the fun begins.

So one night when us boys got together, Kenny started playing some real groovy riff on bass and it immediately catches my ear. I ask him to show it to me and we start playing it and it's just got a great feel to it and I can already hear a melody behind it. So I ask him if we can use it in the group and the next thing I know I've a rough acoustic version of in my inbox. A few days later Dillon joins us. He missed the previous get together due to the day job so now he gets to throw in his two cents. Everything starts out fine. For those of you who are involved with music or have been to a friends band practice, you know that some days are better than others. This particular day was not going to be ours.

So we start going over the changes and working out transitions and things of that nature we start adding in the lyrics. What I thought was the verse riff turns out to be part of the intro, the chorus was all fucked up on my end, and after that, it growing increasingly evident that I had no idea what was going on. Dillon was just as bad as me. He was calling verses bridges and choruses green and between the two of us and our shovels of disillusion, rehearsal seemed more like a stay in an asylum. Dillon is talking about rearranging the tune and he's singing the different parts to us and we're just sitting there like what in the fuck is going on. Kenny is doing his best to keep us from going under and the whole time this shit is going on, Darious is behind the kit just looking at us like what in the fuck is going on. At some point, we decide on the "Coheed song structure" (ABABCBC) and try the shit out. Some how, it fucking worked and we all just look at each other like what in the fuck is going on. I check the time to see how many more songs we can do and it's five to closing.

Shut that shit down and get the fuck out my house!

I guess it could've been worse. No one's amp blew up, no broken drum heads, no coughing up blood. It wasn't particularly productive but we had fun and no one ended up in the fetal position.

The next night, my dude Kevin comes over. He brings some shitty booze and we get a good kind of drunk going on and at 4am Eastern we gave birth a bouncing baby electronic song.

It was also Dillon's 21st the other night. Another good kind of drunk going on.

Well I guess that's that.

Now shut up and listen to our shit

Stammerings