See what i am with that bass that tears down my arms, i'm not a virtuoso, i press timidly the fat strings, guessing the notes, the rythm like a tide reaches me, a staccato anchored and my curved body begins to swell, until my fingers hurt;
I'm not a musical scholar, i don't keep no technical words about instruments and electronic devices i use, i don't even know how to balance the sound of mine, i feel every tones and for me they are all worthy to be;
When i play i love my part gritty, catching the air around into a swirl of chaotic energy, i'm playing the cosmic egg, if only i could rebuild the world with one rock song;
I'm not a poser, i don't play to be watched, there's no attitudes i snatch to raise a pitiful ego through the eyes of a bystander, i'm reversed in myself, i play in my own mind, selfishly, the pleasure is for me only, i bestow not even one cell to act for someone else, i'm not anything because music is not a business for me, it's my passion, it instils me life when it catches me in the curls, here i nest and at one point my senses shut, i'm not a prisoner anymore, easily swaying, i'm sitting on a gust of wind, the music is in me, no one will ever steal me that breath, watch me and find for yourself the stream leading to the best of all pleasure, feel free;
I'm nothing more than this awkward boy when i play... but hell knows i love the music i hear, with a bass or a guitar tearing down my arms.
I invite you.
In this dance.
And i thank Satan for the inspiration. (ah ah running joke around here)
You have real passion, when you play you become the bass. You are not forcing the strings on a musical instrument, you are the music...it comes from you, it's a part of you, it's real.
RépondreSupprimerI really like this post!