Electric Fugue
2022
This EP demonstrates a solidifying of my musical direction, after the effect getting a bachelor’s in music from a liberal arts college had on me. I had fallen in love with opera, learned what the classical forms are, learned all about formal counterpoint, and started studying orchestration. I had a lot to synthesize into my old musical voice. I also got to see some of the elitism and gatekeeping in the academic music community, so there was some figuring out that I had to do regarding how not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. This represents all of that, as well as the changes in my personal life: I got married in 2019.
These are the first songs I’ve written that employ a full orchestra—or at least that employ it with its instruments’ ranges and characters in mind. I did write a short little experiment back in the Aughts that used a complement of woodwinds, brass, percussion, and strings, but it felt like more trouble than the result was worth back then, and I didn’t know any of the rules of orchestration. Although I’ve always felt that following rules to the letter isn’t conducive to good artistry, you can’t bend or break them deliberately if you don’t know them, and the best art, in my opinion, is the art in which everything is deliberate, even the acceptance of the inevitable accidents.
There is a cover song on here: “Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre,” from Georges Bizet’s opera, Carmen, with a digital orchestral arrangement I made using the 1877 Choudens Pére et Fils score as reference. The great thing about classical music (at least classical music from before the 1930s) is that it’s public domain, so covering it requires no mechanical license.
The artwork in this EP is a series of manipulations I did to a picture my brother accidentally took. We were doing a promo photoshoot when he almost dropped his camera. He caught it, thankfully, and it took a blurry picture of the glare from the cymbals of my drum kit, a green screen floor, and a black curtain. I put some digital emphasis on the colors, bumping up the brightness and the contrast and playing with the exposure until it looked just right. I then made several other iterations, throwing the color balance way off to reflect the character of the songs I would attach those iterations to as singles. As implied above, accidents are a part of art, and it’s up to artists to either reject them or to work them into their intentions.
no control
Lost and bewildered | And so far from home | You realize that you’re all alone
You won’t admit you | Need a helping hand | You deny that control is gone
Screaming for any who hear | Just so that they will know | There’s nothing to see here | Everything’s under control
But nobody listens | No one understands | They all think they have good advice | They won’t make a difference | Nobody can | Because they can’t see through your eyes
Letting the chaos ensue | Lashing out at the world | There must be something you can do | Order to restore
You go through the motions | And wait for the change | Maybe this time you’ll get it right
Avoiding the different | Afraid of the strange | Afraid to see yourself in the light
Keeping yourself on a leash | Hiding safe in your hole | Stasis is sanctuary | How you maintain control
electric fugue
[Instrumental]
votre toast, je peux vous le rendre
Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre,
Señors, señors, car avec les soldats,
oui, les toréros peuvent s’entendre:
pour plaisirs, pour plaisirs, ils ont les combats!
Le cirque est plein; c’est jour de fête!
Le cirque est plein du haut en bas.
Les spectateurs, perdant la tête,
les spectateurs s’interpellent á grand fracas!
Apostrophes, cris, et tapage
poussés jusques á la fureur!
Car c’est la fête du courage!
C’est la fête de gens de coeur!
Allons! en garde! allons! allons! Ah!
Torèador, en garde!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combatant
qu’un oeil noir te regarde
et que l’amour t’attend!
Torèador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend!
Tout d’un coup on fait silence,
Ah! que se passe-t-il?
Plus de cris, c’est l’instant!
Le taureau s’élance
en bondissant hors du toril!
Il s’élance! il entre, il frappe!
Un cheval roule, entraînant un picador.
<Ah, bravo, toro!> hurle la foule!
Le taureau va, il vient, il vient, et frappe encor!
En secouant ses banderilles,
plein de fureur, il court!
Le cirque est plein de sang!
On se sauve, on franchit les grilles!
C’est ton tour maintenant!
Allons! en garde! allons! allons! Ah!
Music by Georges Bizet
Lyrics by Henri Meilhac & Ludovic Halévy
translation of “Votre Toast”
Your toast, to you, I do return,
Gentlemen, for just like soldiers,
Yes: bullfighters can understand
The thrill, the thrill of the fight!
The stadium’s packed: it’s a holiday!
The stadium’s packed from top to bottom.
All of the crowd have lost their heads;
All of the crowd erupts in a wild roar!
Insults, screams, and utter chaos...
They’re stirred into a fury!
For this is the festival of courage!
It’s the feast for the stout of heart!
Let’s go! Get ready! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah!
Ready yourself, bullfighter!
And bear in mind; Remember, in the fight:
A dark eye watches you,
And that love awaits.
Bullfighter, love waits for you!
Suddenly the crowd is silent,
Ah! what is going on?
They roar again— this is it!
Bounding from his pen,
The bull erupts into the fray!
On he charges, draws in, strikes!
A horse is thrown on top of the picador.
“Ah! Bravo! Toro!” screams the crowd!
The bull retreats, returns, returns, and strikes again!
Shaking the banderillas,
Filled with fury, he attacks!
The stadium’s soaked in blood!
Now we flee, Leaping over the gates!
Bullfighter, it’s up to you!
Let’s go! Get ready! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah!
Translated by Tony Cordes
the door
The day, the day will never fade | From the chambers of my memory | When I found the door to the other side | It followed anywhere she dared to lead.
We walked for miles, and miles, and miles | Wondering at the world in this new state | We could speak to others at our leisure | But not a soul could our world infiltrate.
The rules changed | Time took on a different meaning | Beauty strange | And it shook me to the core | Through it all | My sense of self persisted, yet | But she changed it evermore.
Out of body, in a different mind | I saw time and space through another’s eyes | We saw ourselves through each other’s eyes | I was exhilarated and terrified.
No more, no more, no more, no more | Will that door be opened for all time | The real world called me back
And I answered
the other side
Once upon a time | There was I, just getting by | On routine, every day | Only living life | Content, but never satisfied | Resigned to find no other way.
Then a door flew open wide | And I was pushed | To the other side.
How can this be? Can I believe the things I see? I could never have dreamed up how I am | I’m scared, but somehow I know that I was made for this | And I could never go back again.
Acceptance takes a while | Though every sense says this is real | I couldn’t make this up, oh, no.
It’s all so strange, but now | Alive is how I really feel | Each day my sense of purpose grows.
Since that door flew open wide | And I was pushed | To the other side.
our brothers’ blood
I hear your brother’s blood
Crying out for justice
From the street where it was
Spilled beneath his keeper’s feet
Justice is slow, and deaf,
And dumb, and blind, and often
It’s not done, and owed with
Interest, after all these years.
Blows for the fool, it’s said:
Foolishness dismisses,
Looks away; pretends that
It sees no atrocity.
Call me the spirit of
Revenge, but we are legion,
And demand a
Restitutionary offering.
Our brothers’ blood lies as
A signpost in the road,
Pointing the way towards
Tomorrow, and towards yesterday.
One cannot walk to
Yesterday, but one could simply
Walk away, and hope that
Ignorance his choice explains.
Despite the fervent fears
Of some, yesterday can’t be
Undone, but tomorrow
Could be changed.
home
When the sun grows cold | And the nights grow long | And the world weighs more every day
And everything seems | Bent on going wrong | And I feel I’m losing my way
When the hour is late | And my nerves are frayed | But my weary way home’s finally through
A warm heart awaits | Where my rest is made
It’s so good to be home with you.
When the money’s dear | And the bills arrive | And the world seems falling apart
And all of its slings | And arrows fly | And wounds pollute the heart
When eyes run dry | And blood runs cold | And some comfort is long overdue
There’s a haven for body, mind, and sou
It’s so good to be home with you.
And oh, there were so many lonely nights | When my empty heart kept me awake.
I’d given up believing there was someone | Made to fit in this aching space.
When dreams foreclose | On tired, old bones | And the pilgrimage nearly is through
When the heavens clamor for kingdom come
It’s so good to be home with you.