truth
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I was in Walmart the other night, where the floor tiles are always kind of sticky and the lights make you look like you haven’t slept in days, grabbing Oreos and a half gallon of milk. the air smelled like popcorn, rubber flip-flops, and Subway bread. somebody was arguing with the self-checkout. carts squeaking, price…
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sometimes I think the only place I can make a song is when I’m at the grocery store, listening to the sound of people while waiting in the checkout line. I keep an eye and ear open for what people cast off: half-sentences. corner store English. if the timing’s right, I’ll catch a major blowout between…
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playing notes is the basic idea of music. but it’s an impression, and just a shallow one. it’s not enough to play the notes. what I really have to do as a musician is everything that is not in the notation (which by the way I can’t read anyway). the same way I need time…
cookie nieves 