Wednesday, April 12, 2006

am i crazy!?

something is wrong...something is has been eating away at me for a long long time, and i dont know how else to deal with it be homeless.

six years ago, i was an idealistic, street busking, wind controller player. my life revolved around a street corner. i got paid from playing this street corner everyday. i got laid!! my friends would alway come by and visit me there. it was in san francisco, so it was sunny most days. it was beauty exemplified. my life revolved around a simple yet hectic schedule of writing music, playing music, selling CDs, and partying. it was pure. got boring. there is such a huge world out there that i'd only heard about from my little corner, so i set out to see this world.

i had brief layovers in amsterdam and stockholm, but it was london which changed me more profoundly than any place i had ever lived before. upon arrival, i was broke, and eventually started living in a squat with a dozen or so squatters. for better or for worse, it changed me. without the ever present spectre of couch surfing or rent paying, i was [briefly] able to exist, purely, to examine my surrounding world, and channel that into music. whole weeks and months were spent doing various drugs and playing 3-4 day long acid techno parties each week.
eventually, i started to get a tiny amount of noteriety for my playing style and started playing with DJs in and aound london, including soul II soul. now, my whole life was dedicated to designing sounds that would make a party go off.strange, multi-layered, aural-contextual art pieces disguised as improv. but as time went on i didnt even realize that i had not really been writing any songs. i didnt even look back to see where i had left my sense of self. onstage it became a battle of who would be in the spotlight. whereas at first, i was a major focal point, i was increasingly novetalized[sic] to the point of being redundant. i had spent 4 years doing my self titled "beatjazz" only to be marginalized repeatedly, no more so than here in NYC, where the level of ego in the club scene is ob-scene! what do i do with this depression i've dealt with for the last 2 years? how do i snap out of it. when ever i would go home, i'd usually just sleep, and when i go out, i usually fall back into to the easy gig of playing with DJs for th money...and get even more depressed, so....

when my landlady came to me and told me that she wanted me to move out because my closet smelled funny [no joke] i could only comprehend one option; work and write as close to 24 hours a day as possiblea and dont worry about a place to live. i stored all of my shit at a friends crib and have a membership to a 24 hour gym. to me, a home is, at it least, a place to lay ones head and store ones shit. well, the trains here run 24 hours a day, so there is the sleep thing sortd. I just need purity again. i need to feel real, raw passion for my art form again. in a way i havent felt in years. i dont care where i sleep, as long as i have my equipment [which consistes of an unbelievably heavy gell cell battery, car amp, and a lot of cables, and a couple of synths and a laptop, all carted around in a rolling metal toolbox] and access to food [had to go on food stamps a few weeks ago, so thats, that sortd]. now, i live nowhere and everywhere, at once. it's pretty cool right now, but we'll see how soon that shit wears off.


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