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So that you can browse my works more effortlessly, I have gathered everything into three albums: 

1. My Musicbox - for all my musical and audio works.

2. May's text records- for my pros, poems, tiny stories, ,etc...

3. May's visual records - my less frequent attempts at photography and drawing.

ATTENTION: With the new layout here, you have to open this record in a new page in order to access these three albums.  Just click again on the title at the top that says "MY RECORDS (music, art, & text)".  

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DRUMMERS:  thinky sexy and creepy. I know that might seem ironic, but the two go together well. Use 60's retro tones.  Put the swing of a woman's hips in your groove.

Come in on the first chorus (don't touch the first verse). remember to hit that musical break on the last bar of the chorus and the verses- hit the one and then pause for three counts. Feel free to do a quick pick up back into the beat. During the musical interlude at the end go crazy.  Build that section up with fills and symbols. Then let it collapse on the 5th progression's end, so that that last progression shrinks back down to a more tranquil sound. ALSO.  Please record to this track but do not mix your drums into the track... just upload your stems solo style.


BASSISTS:  sexy creepy stalky bass. Hit the root notes and creep around sparsely between them.  Come in on the first chorus (don't touch the 1st verse). Remember to hit that musical break on the last bar of the chorus and the verses. During the musical interlude at the end run a little more. This is where the song explodes and all the wolves come out to play.  ALSO.  Please record to this track but do not mix your bass into the track... just upload your stems solo style.


HOWLERS:  We need more howls!  Record yourself howling, snarling, etc and add it to the collab!


Chords:  Gm, Cm, D7, Cm, G#, Gm


Tempo:  Largo.  55 Bpm.  


Please contribute your records to the wolves in the woods collab, and source this 7.0 record.  (i.e. don't source Wolves in the Woods 4.0)  Can't wait! 

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I recently retracked this song to a click to make it more easy to remix.  That version is here: Stick To Mu Guns (tracked to click).  And you can get the stems to the retracked version here: Stick To Mu Guns STEMS to click. Or if you prefer the loosely timed originals, you can get those below.

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Second track off of 'Spilt Milk'.  Have at it!


Nothing like a good ol' beating

to make a proper fool out of me

I've taken a torch to everything i own

and shamed my family.

I keep a will in my back pocket.

Another one is tucked in my boot.

And if you're lucky enough to see me coming,

don't hesitate before you shoot.

But I'm gonna go to church on sunday.

Make a proper fool out of me.

Lord, let me make it to sunday.

To wash all of my sins clean.

I'm gonna disappear in the evening.

Take flight before the sun bleeds.

And don't ask the sky for no reason,

or shake me down by my trail of rosary beads.

There's nothing you can pray I aint prayed for

nothing you can say I aint heard

no morning I don't wake up shaking

God damn I hate that mocking bird.

But I'm gonna go to church on Sunday

-make a proper fool out of me.

Lord, let me make it to Sunday

to wash all of my sins clean.

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Eleven Years With Gloam

Part I

Years ago, if I can remember time at all, I made a mistake.  One fickle mistake.  One flippant momentary lapse of judgment that any ordinary day-walking, earth-turning, time-fumbling person might callously allow themselves.  Yet I, and I alone in my stupidity, unwittingly and unknowingly was the one to make it.  But let me say here and now, while I have any last grasp of human consciousness that it was a mistake- a terrible and irreversible mistake.

You see, I was like you once.  A sun-kissed, womb-nurtured, hat-wearing, key-toting, nine-to-five average.  I sat up every morning to an unforgiving sun baking my flushed skin through my bedroom window.  I lathered myself with doses upon doses of foams and oils.  I fitted myself in bright seasonal garbs- in yellows, and greens, and ceruleans, and crimsons.  Oh how I miss those crimsons!  But something dim happened to me, or I happened upon something dim. 


Part II

                There was a time when I would give anything for a nights rest.  For a pillow that didn’t pull at my cheek like a cat’s tongue.  For a body that could lie horizontal with steady slumber.  For a few hours where I retreated easily into my bed’s horizon- where I could peer out of my window, salute the sunset, and nod knowingly.  But my body and I were always in disagreement.  My body always seemed at odds with the general way of things. Human nature was running on a clock that ticked too slowly for me, and I was always left waiting for the hour hand to come round again.   Somewhere in time, man and the world shook hands on a deal, and I was the unqualified wager. 

                Then, one casual evening, I changed.  As the neighborhood people retired to their cozy bundles, yawning out their nightly affirmations, and shut their lids to block out what they were not meant to see, I surrendered to my devastating consciousness and stood peering- wide eyed and fixated.  I wouldn’t protest any longer.  I wouldn’t return to the pressing hours of linen turmoil.  There would be no more struggle from me.  If twilight’s nightly lullaby failed to sedate me, then I would harness the night- my very worst idea... in retrospect. But insomnia... it's a real thing, you know.

Take the utmost heed of my words now, so that you never fall prey to my mistake.  If you find yourself struggling with the ways of human living, no matter how painful, no matter how futile, never stop struggling.  Fight to obey the laws of human nature.  Fight to function like your brothers and sisters.  Fight your insomnia, your apnea, your restlessness.  Because it is in that struggle that you straddle the line between your world and this one.  It is when you surrender that you open the door to Umbra. 

I should mention that the name ‘Umbra’ is as closely as I can dictate in human English the word that the Shadow Beings use to call this place.  Language here is aloof for a former daywalker like me.  Shadow Beings, especially Gloam, haven’t the very parts necessary to make human consonants and vowels.  Instead, they use the sorts of sounds that human beings would find very difficult to emulate.- the kind that at human’s very best attempts, are only onomatopoeias.  The shadow language is like a heavy gust of wind laden with rusted machinery, settling houses, and polished glass.  Even my name here, my new name, sounds something like the swing of swollen door.  I should think that every letter in Umbre was manifested out of some dark corner, some deep crevice, or some long hollow place where sound wafts between  something hard and something harder. It's almost as though the whole of Umbra is one endless tunnel.

Intuitively, I would guess that I’ve been stuck here in the darkest corner of Umbre about eleven human years.  Time is nearly inconceivable here.  The occupants of this territory, the Gloam, have spent much energy trying to explain to me qualitatively and quantitatively just how they measure time.  From what I can gather, one human year here is the equivalent of one half of what they call a ‘blink’, which is the third smallest significant measurement of time they have ever bothered to name.  So you see, Umbre is consumed with a certain slowness that makes cognitive thought rather impossible for me.  This part of Umbra, which I have never found the borders of, is completely seeped through with a sort of exhaustion.  This world is thick with a sort of languid lucidity, which makes moving inside of it much like moving inside of a dream.  The beings of Umbra function in what is almost a waking sleep. 



 I am still writing this short story.  I just wanted to get some of these basic concepts out first.   Now that I've estalished a bit of the logistics, I can begin getting into the plot.  Ive figured out how economy and currency works in Umbra, as well as how the Gloam plan to revolt against the current class system and why.  But I'm also trying to contain this story to somethingreasonably brief enough to be used in an hr format.  I think this could become a great voice over for an animated short.


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if this were my song, i would keep it this simple.  Tambourine, backup vocals, a little extra guitar.  Specially in scoring a film.  However since I posted this, I have posted a newer version with better mix.  here:

lovely song.

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first track on album 'spilt milk', but copyright shmoppyrights. right? rights.

and someone asked for the lyrics:  

drag your feet, keep your life strapped to your shoulders.

if you don't carve your age into your belt, you wont get any older

it's a mixed up masquerade, a penniless arcade

every face a frown, oh what a crazy town

hang your head, they'll steal the toes right off of your feet

you're lucky to count all ten, when you're living on the street

its a story thats been told, a body thats been sold

'round and around and around. oh what a crazy town

(see) joy around here comes in a little pink balloon

and if you got out of here yesterday it wouldn't be too soon

it's a cardboard palisade, a pocket change brigade

every way is down. oh what a crazy town

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 Added some instruments to my piece; mostly bell hits to emphasize certain moments.

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I fixed the levels from my first mix and added a slight extra guitar pattern atop the background vocals and tambourine.

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This collab got me thinking that patterns are the layering or webbing of the singular.  Every pattern consists of juxtaposing individuals.  What could better illustrate the beauty of that, then a song- a song that begins with a single pattern, via a single note, via a single word in repetition... but gradually burgeoning into a melodrama of infinite patterns!

possibly useable for the One collab & the Patterns collab.

This version of the song has different vocal lines and is panned in surround sound so if you got a 5.1 system, enjoy the stereo.  The idea here is to begin with a single pattern (the very first vocal line) and expand infinitely!  Pick a pattern that you don't all ready hear, and record your voice into the song.  

Guidelines: 1. only use the word 'one'  2. I'm thinking only quarter notes and smaller (so no holding the note out long), but if you disagree go right ahead.


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My newest version of my score for First Star I see Tonight.  I added some nwe instruments and edited some timing kinks.  

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The new version of my Stars Score synced to video.  I added some bells and some extra little elements to emphasize certain moments better.  

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