Just me. Keri Anne (vox, guitboxes, tap shoes, cans, bowls, cups, sticks, round blown glass thingies, perfume canisters, tambourine, maracas, melodica). With guest vocals on Self-(Recon)struction by Chris, my far more talented roommate.
The debut self-recorded album is done (aka "The Album That Will Never Be").
It's now available as a free download.
***The download link is in my blog***
I'm currently working on self-recorded album number deux . . .
("1 lb. of Flesh for 40 oz. of Unrequited")
. . .unless things work out to record elsewhere.
*hint, hint* *wink, wink* *nudge, nudge*
I think it's all written. I'm just choosing songs and working on recordings at this point. Fun, fun, fun in the wintery lack of sun. The perfect time of year to geek out at home and get nit-picky about recordings. Mmmmm. Per usual, I'll test run things on here. Songs will come up and down in various phases of the process.
Hi Keri. I just read what happened to you...I'm SO sorry I don't know how I missed this blog at the time of the accident. I hope your benefit goes splendidly I'm sure it will...unfortunately I cannot attend though I share your 'what if' vision of us meeting in person believe me! After all these years it would be wonderful!
Thank you for your kind words on my music I'm glad you like it...if you'd like I can send you (via email or snail mail) my albums just let me know
Oh comely I will be with you when you lose your breath Chasing the only meaningful memory you thought you had left With some pretty bright and bubbly terrible scene That was doing her thing on your chest But oh comely It isn't as pretty as you'd like to guess Oh comely All of your friends are letting you blow Bristling and ugly Bursting with fruits falling out from the holes Of some pretty bright and bubbly friend You could need to say comforting things in your ear But oh comely There isn't such one friend that you could find here Standing next to me He's only my enemy I'll crush him with everything I own
Your father made fetuses With flesh licking ladies While you and your mother Were asleep in the trailer park Thunderous sparks from the dark of the stadiums The music and medicine you needed for comforting So make all your fat fleshy fingers to moving And pluck all your silly strings And bend all your notes for me Soft silly music is meaningful magical The movements were beautiful All in your ovaries All of them milking with green fleshy flowers While powerful pistons were sugary sweet machines Smelling of semen all under the garden Was all you were needing when you still believed in me
And I know they buried her body with others Her sister and mother and 500 families And will she remember me 50 years later I wished I could save her in some sort of time machine Know all your enemies We know who are enemies are
Goldaline my dear We will fold and freeze together Far away from here There is sun and spring and green forever But now we move to feel For ourselves inside some stranger's stomach Place your body here Let your skin begin to blend itself with mine
-Will you post that shit already? it's really good
want to jam with you... we should totally start a band dude... omg it'd be so hot... then we won't have to worry about real life because we'll be rock stars...
think about it... i mean you'll always have yr law degree to like fall back on..
Keep up the pouring of emotion into sound... live just moves this way and that... music helps us grow into the beings we are and will be in the future that is now and the past that wont repeat... let it flow...
Keri...I'm excited for you...these are solid songs...blue eyed record king is wonderful...I like the use of the backing vocals in 2nd...very Cognition! haha! Good now you have no excuse to be featured on a track of mine =)
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