RPM 2011 I sail northward against the wind My hope erased by the wages of sin I have no way to break the ice I’m frozen with chains of tomorrow I have no fear of getting through The feelings I lost without starting It’s our little game not…

RPM 2011 Wait for the room to focus Feeling around for closure The whiteness of my skin The pale reflecting eyes The beaty of total darkness Move to the door and open Room after room of sorrow Breathing through your mouth Flooding from your eyes…

Covers of some of my favorite songs

I'm going to get all pretentious again and say this one is about the concerning strain of what I might call "religious modernist traditionalism" espoused by technological singularity fanatics (Ray Kurzweil) and authors like Neil Stephenson.

I am concerned with the values of my generation.

Original working title was something like, "And after six years I finally understood why they sing in the streets here, and could go home." It's sort of about anonymity in the modern city. If that sounds pretentious, that's because it is.

Previously uploaded under the working title of "squiggle," but pretty much unchanged. 4 tracks feedback guitar, 1 drum machine 1 vocal (whistling) track -- not sure if the really out-of-tune parts are cool or awful. Sorry for killing the comments…