thump step thumb ththum pstept hump
It doesn't bode well when your rhythm-keeping foot thumping on the floor is wholly out of synch with your already arhythmic bongoing.
Brothers! Sisters! Labels!
Not born to pay bills... something about will... a bunch more that rhymes with ill. This is the least free styling I have ever heard: Songs of the Northeast, the little known Disney rip-off of traditional slame culture and music. O God I hope they find a way to drown on their own bongwater.
I've had friends
like my friend Steve
he used to be chill then
O wait, he's just talking now. It's hard to tell, except his speaking voice I guess flows a little more naturally. O God it's been like half an hour; don't they need a chokesmokebreak on the porch yet? On the porch away from the drums. One of these nights- I like to imagine them singing Redemption Song when- I'm going to walk in there and casually stab the membranes of the drums and walk right on out. I'm not sure they'd notice right away. It's not about trying to piss them off or hurt them, mind- I just think the god damned things would be quieter with slashed 'branes, even if the hippies aren't.
Now the guy with the guitar. They play a fraction of or a whole verse, endlessly ceasing abruptly to talk for a minute. Are they discussing what they're doing wrong? No, no, not like that. Like this- no, wait like th- Wait- Maybe I'm just too corporatized and, like, betrayed my native roots and, like, can't see any more the ways of nat, I mean Nature and her glacially slow progress. 'Cause Mother Earth, man, she's made of dirt, and so she's like really slow, you know? But, you know, Nature like finds a way, I you know A Way.
I wish Nature would work, like, her entropic way on them a little quicker. Wait, maybe that's it- What I'm hearing might be a latterday music of the spheres, the DS > 0, the Cosmic like Symphony of increasing universal entropy, right over my head. I think I just blew my mind. I'd better go drink more.
No, no, not like that, man- your fingers are totally all on the fret. Yeah, well you're the one who was keeping time! I mean, I'm like trying to go like with your rhythm, but your foot and your hands are banging like shit at the same time, so like which one am I like supposed to listen to?
The best part is that every now and then I can make out the sound of the (totally fake) hippie broad up there's A.I.M. messages coming and going. Blidaloo. Bloo-dali. At least there's some type of harmony going on up there.
Brothers! Sisters! Labels!
Not born to pay bills... something about will... a bunch more that rhymes with ill. This is the least free styling I have ever heard: Songs of the Northeast, the little known Disney rip-off of traditional slame culture and music. O God I hope they find a way to drown on their own bongwater.
I've had friends
like my friend Steve
he used to be chill then
O wait, he's just talking now. It's hard to tell, except his speaking voice I guess flows a little more naturally. O God it's been like half an hour; don't they need a chokesmokebreak on the porch yet? On the porch away from the drums. One of these nights- I like to imagine them singing Redemption Song when- I'm going to walk in there and casually stab the membranes of the drums and walk right on out. I'm not sure they'd notice right away. It's not about trying to piss them off or hurt them, mind- I just think the god damned things would be quieter with slashed 'branes, even if the hippies aren't.
Now the guy with the guitar. They play a fraction of or a whole verse, endlessly ceasing abruptly to talk for a minute. Are they discussing what they're doing wrong? No, no, not like that. Like this- no, wait like th- Wait- Maybe I'm just too corporatized and, like, betrayed my native roots and, like, can't see any more the ways of nat, I mean Nature and her glacially slow progress. 'Cause Mother Earth, man, she's made of dirt, and so she's like really slow, you know? But, you know, Nature like finds a way, I you know A Way.
I wish Nature would work, like, her entropic way on them a little quicker. Wait, maybe that's it- What I'm hearing might be a latterday music of the spheres, the DS > 0, the Cosmic like Symphony of increasing universal entropy, right over my head. I think I just blew my mind. I'd better go drink more.
No, no, not like that, man- your fingers are totally all on the fret. Yeah, well you're the one who was keeping time! I mean, I'm like trying to go like with your rhythm, but your foot and your hands are banging like shit at the same time, so like which one am I like supposed to listen to?
The best part is that every now and then I can make out the sound of the (totally fake) hippie broad up there's A.I.M. messages coming and going. Blidaloo. Bloo-dali. At least there's some type of harmony going on up there.
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