Bugolgi Apparatus

You're an intelligent person With a nice record collection Yet when you make music Something happens It's not a question  Of talent- Something meaner and stupider  Comes out of you I don't care if you're successful  So was hitler. When you put out a dumb vibration Life catches up to you You do a bad thing Like a corporation eating the planet And it becomes your thing  Against the world, beyond ridiculous Because your music Doesn't make something interesting It doesn't make  something curious  It confirms the worst in everything And it's very successful  You don't need the money You don't need success  You need to be able To live with yourself  because I can't ...

Amongst poorly  designed things We construct  relationships the world does  its thing we go about  our business all I ever need is you to be here nothing else matters take my passwords climates change rains cleanse left to your own devices and dreaming nights slow dancing  on broken glass  on the surface of a planet  entirely made of gas

I've played with a number of musicians in bands and as a solo performer. I know very little theory so I often rely on a more learned musician to be my musical director and inform me when changing a note or two in a chord would make more sense for an arrangement. I should be the worst musician in any ensemble I play with because I'm a songwriter, fuckface, not a musician. I had a recent experience where I started to recycle some old rhythm tracks àla Lee Scratch Perry, (never released band recordings of aborted songs), working with Marcos Cunha. Marcos is a damn fine multi-instrumentalists who's played with many A-list Brazilian talents. I've had the honor of having him on bass ukelele in my group, but here he was jamming on an assortment of synthesizers and it was nothing short of magical. We have very similar tastes in music and honestly, it's been a while since of played with someone of his caliber with his TASTES. Tastes matter. The lines he created were alive,...

close up of a mouth eating breakfast long shot of cars stuck in traffic cut to a man on a train scratching the scab on his face zoom in on you in the mirror putting on your makeup it’s serious pan to your ancestors tilling the soil  forward a millennia they’re sold as toys follow a conversation of a middle aged couple struggling with a handle  on a world they can’t control trying to feel romantic without a sense of desperation surrounded by advertisements for electric cars wide shot of a crowd leaving the subway  armies of phones glowing like insects we track a girl of nineteen texting her parents for money at this point in the action I do my walk on  evoking kitsch Russian ads for tampons I smile then I look in your face you scream and run away ( I give chase on my Segway ) zoom out as this song plays in the background life looks beautiful the world is cruel all captured in  ...