the lady and the anchor

"i wasn't made for farmland but for bilge water and sails 

i long to see such foreign lands and drink exotic ales"

a while ago, i did a post in which i explained how nice it is when a work of art can live past its inspiration and begin being being more fluid in meaning (you can find it here). in this post, i present another song i wrote several years ago, though this one hasn't so much changed in meaning but been updated in application. it was written about, or at least inspired by, graduate school (you'll find in another post an explanation of my feelings about going on after my bachelor). i wrote it toying with the idea of taking a breather from school after i graduated. the song is basically about the fact that i wasn't made for school, but after i've lived a little more, i think i'll be ready for it. there were plenty of liberties taken once the song started taking shape, so don't read into it too much. still, i think it can offer some insight on what in the world i'm on about. the character speaking is indeed speaking to a girl, but the song was not inspired by a university. as a matter of interest, you may find it amusing to know that while writing it i always referred to the girl in question as 'washington.' i was pretty eager to get into uw. 


i share this now because i'm finally graduating, and off to sea, so to speak. perhaps you can relate in one way or another, or perhaps not, but hopefully you can enjoy it a bit either way.

the lady and the anchor
oh, i'm going to the sea
for it's been calling out to me
and i'll return as a man and not this boy that i have been
for my soul longs to be free
and on the waters it may be
and i'll be yours if you'll be mine when i am home again


i wasn't made for farmland but for bilge water and sails 
i long to see such foreign lands and drink exotic ales
but this shore has held me faster than a thousand earthly jails
but that freighter seems a file for these bars
and while some will scoff and doubt 
i tell you soon i will be out
and i'll trade in my old compass for a sextant and the stars 


for i'm going to the sea
for it's been calling out to me
and i'll return as a man and not this boy that i have been
for my soul longs to be free
and on the waters it may be
and i'll be yours if you'll be mine when i am home again


i feel it's only fate to wear an anchor on my arm
and a lady on the other to dance to my guitar
but rest assured there's no need for upset or for alarm
for i tell you my intentions still are true
for as we see her pouty lips and watch her saucy swaying hips
the men will dream of maidens past and i will think of you


my darling lover, dear, it breaks my heart to see you cry
but to say i wish i needn't go t'would truly be a lie
for i was meant to sail these seas as sure as birds are meant to fly
and as every bird must leave its nest i too must say goodbye


oh i wish that i could have you, i wish i could somehow
but the truth is that this boy i am, i cannot have you now
but when i return, a sailor, with beard and heavier brow
i pray then that these fickle gods our romance will allow


so i am going to the sea
for it's been calling out to me
and i'll return as a man and not this boy that i have been
for my soul longs to be free
and on the waters it may be
and i'll be yours if you'll be mine when i am home again


yes i'm going to the sea for i'm still longing to be free
these legs were never meant to stay on land
and when i come home to thee
i hope and pray i'll be
a lover and a sailor that is worthy of thy hand


here's to another six month gap til my next entry,
trace.

in silence find we meaning (includes episode three three in one project).

"silence is a source of great strength."

  --lao tzu

(that means this blog has grown very powerful.)

it's been a while. even by my standards. a lot has gone on since june twentieth, but not too much that you'll care about, so i'll streamline.

first of all, there are two musical projects that i need to get posted. the first was another three in one project. they're already on facebook, but in case you missed them (heaven forbid), here they are (there's more blog-vomit to read after the videos, if you're interested).

 three in one project, episode three:

"psyanky."

 

 "he's all ober this."

"two men, two kites."

the other musical project was my one in seven project. that is, one album in seven days. the whole thing is extremely rough, but at the end of the seven was a collection of thirteen tracks. i'll do another post for those soon, but if you want the album, just get a hold of me and i'll e-mail the whole thing to you in mp3. 

beyond the world of music, i've had a few entertaining experiences. i trained for and was able to finish a sprint length triathlon and a half marathon over the last few weekends. my times were unimpressive in comparison to most people in my age bracket, but for me and my habitually sedentary self, these are nice accomplishments. my right ankle didn't take as kindly to my half marathon, so i've been neglecting the running as of late. however, i'm taking a swimming class this semester which has been a great thing. it's basically a required bit of exercise every few days, and its helping improve my awful swim times. win win. i do have to use the locker room though... so win win lose, i suppose. just the same, it's a great time (the pool--not the locker room).

and the last bit of big news, i'm graduating in december. this is exciting, though also terrifying as i read dozens of articles noting that graduates are having a difficult time finding jobs, and likely will for some time. in case your graduating soon and would like some halloween reading:

college graduates unemployed.

no job for college graduates, so why go?

increase in unemployed graduates.

fresh out of college, slim hope for a job.

and the personal favorite:

jobs crisis could spark riots here

if i don't get a job, at least i can get tear gassed.

still, i'm really excited to graduate. i confess, worksheets are becoming a greater and greater challenge to complete. besides, we all know what happens after i graduate--the chops return and remain in triumph!

--trace.

tic tacs.

i remember once getting a box of orange tic tacs when i was about twelve years old. my brother worked at the vans shoes shop in the local outlet mall and i'd gone with my dad to pick him up, making a pit stop at a gas station along the way. my father was kind enough to let me grab a treat of some sort, and i bought the box of orange tic tacs.

for whatever reason, the wait was a little longer than my twelve year old self had planned on and by the time we had picked up my brother and made our way home, i'd gotten through more than half the container. when my mother found out she was none too pleased and informed me that "they're breath mints, not candy. you can't just eat them like skittles."

i've a box of tic tacs i've been working on for the last few days. i just barely hit half empty.

my mother would be proud.

dr. dohn m. denison secondary school.

"Dr. J.M. Denison S.S. is a public high school in the York Region District School Board located on 135 Bristol Rd, Newmarket, Ontario, Canada and it opened in 1989. Additions were built in 1991, and a new technological studies wing was completed in late 2009. The school is just south of the border between Newmarket and East Gwillimbury, but the school address is in Newmarket."

--wikipedia 

 
sometimes i'll commit to doing thing only because it'll make me do something i wouldn't do if i just had to say yes or no at the moment of the opportunity. such is the case with a local music venue's singer/songwriter competition. i received an e-mail last monday saying that they were having a week long equivalent to a battle of the bands where five (i think) people will play a twenty minute set of their original stuff. winner for audience and judge's choice. realizing it was an interesting opportunity, but i wouldn't do it if i got there and didn't have to, i immediately wrote back and signed up. so now i have to, which is a good thing. it's intimidating, but i'll survive at any rate.

the predicament this puts me in now is what songs to play. my current game plan is to do two songs on guitar and then two to three (depending on time) on the ukelele. i'm deciding on my guitar ones, as i've a few i can readily use. however, my ukelele ones present an opportunity to spew some creativity as i've got two songs with the music laid out that i would love to use, but no lyrics as of yet for either. so i'm looking for things to write about. wikipedia's random article generator (a favorite passtime)has been helpful for this sort of thing in the past (and is the source of the article at the top of the page), but it's still not proving very helpful. 

so. here's the scoop. i'm posting two songs up with their working titles i had pertaining to where they might go. it would be very helpful for me if you could post a comment stating what each, or one of the songs make you think of so i can possibly use it as a basis for writing the lyrics. you can feel free to use the working titles as a basis for your ideas, or forget the titles altogether. if i choose yours, you won't get much out of it... but i'll mention your name and buy you a soda sometime. 

the songs.

(oh, and as a sidenote, these aren't the whole of the songs, just the gist so you get the general feeling. also, i look angry in both videos. i'm not sure why that is.)

good day to grow a beard.

peruvian tracy. 

thanks again in advance.

flourescent gore.

poetry is a habit of mine that fluctuates in its frequency. typically it comes when i've a few minutes to spare or my mind is wandering. because of this, bedside scraps of paper and math notebooks tend to attract a lot of it. 

i think i'm going to start posting some of it from time to time (starting with this post) to help keep them somewhere that isn't as readily lost or thrown away. also, it may help flesh out the blog with some more regular posts. or perhaps just flood it with garbage. but if i was afraid of posting garbage, i wouldn't both posting anymore. 




1:07

in less than a minute you will change--
color soon will rearrange
from the red shapes on black i saw before
and again you'll adjust in a minute more. 
electric black and florescent gore,
the devil's cattle on on a midnight range.
    yes, you've no hands to tell of time.
    you need them not, small clock of mine. 




bean of light


kidney bean on my wall,
what's your point in being?
have you a goal you're chasing?
have you a fear you're fleeing?
or is fate with you agreeing
and softening you with good intentions?
or do i label you with my own fears and contentions?
you're likely just another false projection i am seeing.
     i confess, the latter smacks more true,
     but i feel less concern for me than you.


p.s.--a quick note: though i love poetry, i've never been able to take it very seriously. feel free to read anything you like into this stuff, but know that what i put into it is of consistently shallow substance.

captain ahab.

over break, i had the pleasure of not shaving for a length of time. when i did shave, i had the pleasure of leaving a set of chops. more particularly, "whaler's chops," "1800's banker chops," "amish chops," or "leprechaun chops" depending on which term you fancy using.

it was a pleasure.

in order to remember the good times before i began school once more and had to shave them off, i decided while in the parking lot of big lots to get a photo or two of me with them. the shot i share with you now is the combination of an afternoon sun, quickshot autofocus, and a car to the side of me squeeling; all at the perfect moment to make this photo look like an abercrombie ad. it doesn't really even show the chops because of the extreme lighting, but oh well. it's for me to remember the good times, and that it does effectively.

the chair.

"and if by my efforts
i become someone i like,
maybe that someone will be a somebody
in time and history's sight."
--terrance long

a chair is a delightful thing. chairs come in a remarkable variety of styles, colors, shapes, sizes, and aesthetics. a good chair can be practical or frivolous, large or small, ornate or homely, and belong to one or many persons. if we're thinking in terms of plato's theory of forms, any chair could be the chair given that it suits the role its been assigned.

as i've recently read many a text on world issues, global struggles of various sorts, local problems and those plaguing distant lands, i've wondered what role i've to play in being a positive force in relation to any of them. i find hope in the chair. some of the best chairs i've encountered in my life have been modest in appearance, upkeep, or even comfort--but suit their opportunities to play their parts blissfully.

my goal in life is to suit my part blissfully.

blogging about paper.

*important*
to read this post, click on the giant notebook. feel free to scroll down after you read it.

now feel free to scroll down.

in case you were curious, this is what it looks like without the flip--with matchbook authenticity check even! just click on this notebook to see it in a better, more glorious resolution.

illusory correlations.

"of course i failed--i forgot to wear my lucky trousers."

the most clear and concise explanation of illusory correlation that i've found comes from wikipedia: "the phenomenon of seeing the relationship one expects in a set of data even when no such relationship exists." data here can be taken as traditional data (statistics, reports, etc.), and can also be applied to a broader scope in understanding it as events, experiences, perceptions, and so on.

this is a common phenomenon and examples of it can be found in most any context. stereotypes are an extremely common example, studies claiming correlation between environmental factors and personal effects can readily fall victim to it, and people simply seeking explanations will typically find them, though they may be completely irrelevant and utterly incorrect (conveniently animating this principle). this is why someone may think that people named trace are not as handsome as neils or rogers(after people meet me, neil, and roger), that pot roasts cure colds (after an ill child pips up after a bit of beef), or that a pair of trousers dictates his or her academic fate (after a success or failure in a pair of 501s).

i've not failed any tests as of recent, but illusory correlations have certainly seemed to have played a role in many of my recent actions. both in the way i make decisions and in the way i explain the reasons of their successes or failures, retrospect and further experience seems to be showing where various correlations were indeed illusory.

from merriam-webster:
illusory: based on or producing illusion.
correlation: the state or relation of correlated. specifically : a relationship existing between phenomena or things.

conversations with sheila.

"good mornin' starshine, the earth says hello.
you twinkle above us, we twinkle below.
good mornin' starshine, you lead us along
my love and me as we sing our early mornin' singin' song.

glibby gloop gloopy, nibby nabby noopy, la la la lo lo.
sabba sibby sabba, nooby abba nabba, le le lo lo.
tooby ooby walla, nooby abba nabba,
early mornin' singin' song."

--sheila (hair, 1967)

the preceding selection contains one of the most unappealing bits of lyricism i've ever heard or would care to imagine. i find them such for the two main reasons of one) them being nonsensical, cheap rhymes and two) failing to make up for that by not even being pleasing to the ear. they don't roll off the tongue, and they don't flow to the ear, and they don't drive to the heart--or anywhere else in the body for that matter. now don't get up in arms--i do like this song. i hate the "early morning singin' song," but do enjoy the bulk and presentation of it. and besides, to a degree i can appreciate the fact that though sheila sounds ridiculous (not in an entertaining or mutually enjoyable way, but in an "it hurts to watch" kind of way) she very well may be trying to say something very reasonable--maybe even important.

i can relate to that at times. i've something relevant or important to say and all i can do is speak the early mornin' singin' song. it's rather frustrating, as i'm sure at least one of you two readers can relate. but oh, the things i would be saying if i could be saying it. what secrets are being held hostage by sheila's inability to escape the early mornin' singin' song? maybe many, maybe few, but the tragedy is that we'll never know. at least until the sequel to hair comes out...

--trace

fluid inspirations.

there are several years between the writing of stephen king's "pet semetary" and its being published. this is, in part, because of its inspiration. the book was inspired by a series of events taken place in his rented home in maine. the house was just alongside a major truck route which would be the cause of death for man local pets. because of this, there had been established a pet cemetery on the other side of the freeway. after burying his daughter's cat (a victim of the busy road), the principle of 'the cat came back' came to mind. the idea of this dead cat being buried and coming back, as he puts it, "alive but fundamentally different." a zombie cat, if you will. the question was then, what would happen if a person were to be buried there? it was this, in combination with a recent experience of narrowly stopping his son from being struck by a car that gave inspiration to the feelings, ideas, and story of semetary. however, when king had finished the book, he didn't review or submit it for publication for several years. he saw the inspirations of the work, and he simply wasn't ready to touch something with roots in the idea of a loved child coming back from the grave to kill--particularly as that idea was at least partially rooted in the experience of his own son nearly being killed. not for a period of time, anyway. eventually it was published, of course, and gained great popularity.

i'm not writing a novel, and nothing that i'm working on has near as deep or upsetting roots. however, to a degree, i can appreciate the idea of creating something and whether in the act or ex post facto, having some serious misgivings about it because of what inspired it. i think that's why i tend to take the more liberal feeling towards art and say that art's inspiration and meaning are flexible according to the environment surrounding it.

i don't normally post stuff i write--mainly because i feel if i'm going to share it at all, i'll play it. but, for this once, i'll break that rule. this is a song i wrote on my mission while in boston, england. we drove by a fish and chips shop called "queen of the sea" with the word "fish" before it and the word "chips" after it. i scrapped the "chips" and stole the remaining words to make the title of a very simple song. at the time, it had some loose inspirations. about two years later, the meaning would change, affecting my perception of the inspirations, happened again about a year after that, and is still changing today. anyway, i thought i'd share it. and as a sidenote--this is a sad song, but it's played with cheer. so as you read it, don't let it sound too tragic.

"fish, queen of the sea."
so swim, oh swim away. swim away oh sea queen.
you know i love you dear, but we know you're no ruler here.
you off and heading home, with and among your own,
means more than you being mine.

so swim, oh swim away. swim away oh darling.
both families wondering now why we are even bothering.
i wish that we could be, a royal family.
you know i'd walk and swim the line.

but you are a sea queen, and i'm a man king.
we fell into love's trap, now we have to mind the gap.
the problems we're to face aren't solved by being in love.
where could we even live--what place is neither underwater nor above?

and my people say of me, "our king is crazy.
he sees her fleeting whim, he sees it as her loving him.
he sacrificed and sought her, old retired triton's daughter--
did he think fate would care?"

but please my lady, do be pleased to know
it's i that's over them, and i still love you so.
put water out of thought, still if you i'd caught
you're optimistic dreams i would share.

but you are a sea queen, and i'm a man king.
we fell into love's trap, now we have to mind the gap.
the problems we're to face aren't solved by being in love.
where could we even live--what place is neither underwater nor above?

sea queen, oh sea queen. stranger love old time has seen--
but no doubt we're the strongest love that's been all as strange.
cruelest of jokes it seems. tinkering with our hearts and dreams.
no doubt we're the pride or shame of all the loves time has arranged.

you know i love you but farewell.
me to the sea, you to the land.
we do not match though we belong.
i hope our hearts will understand.


was this song originally written with a girl in mind? why yes, yes it was. over the years, has this been about the same girl? no. has it always been about girls? no. in fact, for quite a while it was about my not being a theater major. long story short, at this point, the inspiration (though sentimental) has given way to application. i apply this song to my current situations when i play it, as i do with everything i've ever written. i like it that way.

so. why was stephen king able to publish this story? i think, in part, because there comes a point that you can stand apart from your own work and its inspirations and at least begin to appreciate and view it objectively. when that happens, you can enjoy what you made without having to enjoy where it came from.

wow... this post has gotten long winded. i'll try to wrap it up.

i started a song on monday and finished it wednesday. its inspirations and implications are already changing. that fluidity is greatly appreciated. so what's the moral of this post? could be that some things are changing, could be that i'm a non-linearist when it comes to time, could be that whatever is causing a person upset can be altered by perception, or it could be that i've a motive i won't bother sharing.

ironic as it may be, its changed a few time while writing it.

--trace.

george michael.

my friend laura is currently undertaking a project having to do with grief, made up of visual and written components. whilst discussing it, one thing she pointed out is the fact that often grief is sourced in the death, not of people, but of relationships or opportunities. and that made me think of george michael.

i should have thought of wham, but i thought of george michael. forgive me, andrew.

this is one of my top ten songs of all time. possibly my top five, depending on when you ask me. this is the song i listen to when i'm grieving, so to speak. not death related grief, but for grief related to everything else. end of a relationship? missed internship opportunity? red head didn't return my flirtatious advance? time for some wham.

i could go into an in-depth analysis of why this is. but i shan't. suffice it to say that this song is perfect for it. this song is a lament of the loss of something loved, the acceptance of a loss, the celebration of the future. i can dig that.

that being said, i don't want you, two readers, to think that things are bad right now. things are going well for me, and i'm enjoying them at that. this conversation just sparked this thought and i thought i'd share it in case either of you needed a good break up/grief song. it is, in my opinion, the best of its breed.

and in case you need a pick-me-up more than a break up song, don't worry--we're still covered. enjoy!

check a box, before you go go.

--trace.

p.s.--one of these days i'll have a reason to post the best "things are great" songs. i guess... i gotta have faith.

negligence.

blog--
four months is a long time to neglect a blog. i don't feel guilty for the months i was at scout camp. i only had the twenty cents a minute kiosk from kinkos in logan to access the internet, and only on saturdays at that. i do, however, feel i owe you an apology for the weeks since i returned that i spent not writing to you. you understand it wasn't an issue of not wanting to do--but simply not doing. it doesn't excuse it, but perhaps it can help you understand that i meant you no ill.

things have been good for the last while. school is busy and my reappearing social life is treating me well. i'll spare you the slur of more detailed updates and assume that you'll be content to know that things are mostly good with enough bad to keep things interesting. it's a balance i'm comfortable with for the time being and will be enjoying until the equilibrium changes. i've been following the epicurean ideals in my own way for a while, and plan on straying from that soon. we'll see if the wave goes up or down after that.

sorry i've not a lot that's especially exciting to share with you. hopefully i will soon. i hope that if nothing else the break has been a time for you to relax, enjoy the slow pace of the summer, and that my returning to you will be a welcome back and not a 'let's have one more month' sort of situation... either way, you know we were made for each other. and i appreciate that.

with love,
trace.

respectowiggles and drinks.

"good morning, guests. though when i say good i don't mean it won't turn to rain or it might be snow, or fog, or thunder. you didn't get any sleep, i dare say."

there's something innately good and wholesome about reading in public spaces. i think the stereotypical yuppie reading in a coffee shop is onto something.

today i finished the silver chair from the chronicles of narnia. it's my third time reading through the series, and it's been quite enjoyable rereading and finding the stuff i'd missed in the readings prior. i've been reading through the series at work on break and when the cleanings done at the end of shift. today at work's end i had just short seventy pages left, and on the way home stopped at a local burger place and finished the book over a 'stubby double with cheese' and an order of fries. i'm not sure why it is, but for some reason reading a book in my room is completely different from reading somewhere outside the door of my apartment. i think it's the fact that you're going out of the way for leisure. you're not bored at home so you read. you're not going out to take care of business. you're going somewhere with a book for the purpose of doing something you don't need to do, you just want to do it. and there's something very freeing about that.

tonight, keeping with typical habit, i picked up a soda with the meal and enjoyed about a can's worth of dr. pepper and coke (a lovely little pop cocktail, or poptail, called 'black gold' according to the burger king soda charts). it's interesting. i used to get medium drinks. i don't anymore as i made the realization that my satisfaction with my drink has nothing to do with the size and everything to do with simply having that annoying, but nonetheless satisfying sort of growling noise you get when there isn't enough soda left to fill the straw. this started as i realized that a medium drink is often double or double plus the size of a can of soda, yet i'm as satisfied finishing one as the other, and the can typically doesn't end in the same digestive unease. so i started getting sodas that are closer in size to cans than kegs. i'm now actually enjoying the meals more. just an interesting little observation. if you're big on big sodas, i might recommend giving this a try.

and that's about it for now. thrilling business, no?

quando quando quando.

"do one thing everyday that scares you."
-eleanor roosevelt

in other words, you should be going out of your way to do frightening things everyday. i think eleanor was on to something. as of recent, i've been trying to implement this little gem. in lots of ways.

we'll assume that 'to scare' can be defined as instilling fear. the merriam-webster dictionary defines fear as "an unpleasant, often strong, emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger." danger is defined by the same source as "exposure or liability to injury, pain, harm, or loss." therefore, in order to fulfill this advice, i need to do something that the excites anticipation or awareness of potential injury, pain, harm, or loss. when i map it out like that, it's not so hard.

using the preceding as our jumping point, if i do one of the following things a day, then i'll be following eleanor's words of wisdom.

• correcting people.
  
• cooking something that i'm not experienced at cooking.
  
• doing most anything in front of large crowds.
• doing things i've claimed to be good at.
  
• submitting applications.
• participating in competitions.
• dancing.
• looking down from heights.
• trying particularly foreign foods.
  
• giving presentations.
• showing people personal works (music, writing, etc).
• going into particularly dark places.

now, of course there are many things on this list where saying they scare me is a bit of a stretch whereas others are a bit more unnerving. eating a somewhat frightening foreign food is nothing close to looking down from heights. and heights aren't near what other things may be. however, everything on that list at the very least make me uncomfortable. and at that, many of them are things are things i do pretty often, and even enjoy doing. again, foreign foods are always fun. they still can make me a bit uncomfortable. that's the whole point, though.

it is my belief that eleanor advised this because we're simply a big bunch of sissies in far too many ways. indeed, i am often nothing but a big sissy. and how does one cure one's self of sissiness? by making his or her sissy self face the music. eat a bug, sing to a crowd, and go cliff diving.

and so i shall. sooner or later.

dear blog.

"it's a butterfly. or maybe a fella in glasses... hey everybody, hold on a second... i know, i know, it'll only take a second. come check this out. it's pretty cool."

dear blog.
how are you? hope things are going well.
it's interesting. sometimes i wonder who's reading you, and imagine people in far off lands wondering what an american psychology student does with his time. it's pretty exciting. maybe a bit frightening. maybe you've a reader who's a friendly herb doctor in the southwestern united states reading about my new album. perhaps another is a small pakistani boy from islamabad wondering about what i asked santa for christmas (and let the record show, you really did have a hit from islamabad reading your "dear santa" post). maybe a swedish hacker who's ip address is traced to singapore, but who is really in ireland. or perhaps another psychology student in russia, comparing his own blog to you and thinking his is much better. if he's right, i apologize.

at any rate, i'm glad we can see at least where in the world people are that are reading via the geo-traffic link on the right side of the screen, even if we can't see who it is. then again, if i knew who it was, it may weird me out... maybe that's for the best. either way, it's good fun.

well blog, need to finish a paper for psychology now. but i just wanted to write and say hi. hope all is well. i'll do what i can to get you some new readers, but i think we've already a few all stars in our fanbase. see you next later!

--the little lund that writes you.

freshman year.

hey friends and others.
so, about four years ago now, i was a freshman in college living in helaman halls on byu campus and living the dream. part of said dream was to make beautiful music. what instead was realized was the creation of noise loosely described as music. that being said, over time it's been fun to share my wastes of time, and am finally putting forth the effort to do so. these tracks were done with the blessed hammerhead rhythm station and windows sound recorder along with film quotes as you'll hear. at any rate, it was a monster pain editing all of them, so it makes me all the more proud of them.

also worth noting before we get started are two things of practical application. one, i'm still unaware of a way to simply post these tracks as wav or mp3 files, so they're still being posted as movies(yes, the visuals are boring, but i can't be bothered to actually do anything visually for stuff i made four years ago). if you want to be able to download any of them, just get a hold of me or leave a comment and i'll just e-mail them to you. and second, while some i'm quite proud of, others were more me just playing around and trying to figure out how to work. for this reason, i'll only be posting the worthwhile ones, which are few, but there just the same.

so, here are the tracks, loosely in the order of which i favor them. i wrote these under the name "coat hat and cutlass" in case any of you burn these on mix cds and distribute them among friends. then when they ask who they're by, you can express that it's by coat hat and cutlass but they stopped putting out tracks a few years ago and sound very hip and knowledgeable.

as you mixed.

super micro fun.

frankly reanimixed.



your one unheard message.

try to enjoy.

the learning machine.

as you may have read in last month's issue of alternative press, there have been rumors of me finally recording an album after years of playing shows to audiences of anywhere from one to six people. while some of you may have been spreading these rumors, and many more of you hoping they were true, up to this point they have indeed been nothing but rumors. with this in mind, i'm happy to announce that such is no longer that case, and in fact, you'll be able to have a copy of my debut 'the learning machine' for your household come this summer.

that being said, things are very much still in development. the eleven track album currently has seven songs guaranteed their respective slots and the remaining four slots have a few potential tracks to fill them. i won't bother telling you what's included as the song titles will unfamiliar to everyone, but eleven tracks it will have. also, though the seven certain ones are fully written, there has been no recording as of yet. that and then deciding what to do with the tracks once i have the album assembled. while i would love to actually have a proper album produced, i may just wind up burning my own and selling them for two dollars. that being said, if any of you have any insight on producing an indie album, do tell.

anyway, shortly put, look for 'the learning machine' in some format this summer, and you'll find it. i'll keep relevant updates coming on here. until next time,
trace.

rockin' in the treetops.

for those of you who don't know me as well, you may or may not be aware of the fact that i enjoy making up stupid little songs typically narrative or first person in nature. and good news to fans of stupid little songs typically narrative or first person in nature, it would seem the typically narrative or first person in nature spark is back. whether this "good news" is actually good is of course debatable. however, it is nice for me.

when i first started playing music (on a conventional instrument) i was taking piano lessons in elementary school. i was going to play the trumpet in school band, but thankfully my mother offered the piano lessons as another option, and with liberace dreams in tow, i accepted them. now, i only kept these lessons up for so long, and today, i am admittedly no expert on the piano now, but two very valuable things came as a result. one. i can still remember several songs i learned to play including "money can't buy everything," "magic man," "money can't buy everything," and one i'm particularly fond of, "oom-pa-pa." two. to this day, most of my understanding of music today remains based in what i learned during this time. after said lessons, i tinkered around with the piano off and on, never really taking it too seriously, and talking about how much i'd love to play the drums.

key in a few years listening to weird al and whatever my brother listened to. mainly fat wreck chords and moon ska. thanks, sky. twas a good time.

then onto my high school years. desperately trying to fit in as a punker with my bleached, twisted-spike hair and cut off cargo paints my parents were kind enough to simultaneously give themselves perpetual headaches and me great happiness when they purchase me a drumset for a birthday. with saturday morning lessons, and constant noise in the house, i can honestly say that i learned to love creating music ("music" being used liberally here) and my piano lessons started showing how helpful they really were as i got more curious about other instruments as i began to actually gain some ability with a drumset. it was a long process going from trying to play the tune of the a-team theme song to actually playing drum like i was "supposed to," but it was a lot of fun. also fun was having a bassist and a guitarist ask me to be a drummer. before you ask, no. we never did anything but school talent shows. but i'm fine with that. it was a delight, even if it wasn't for the audience.

also, my later years of high school offered me the opportunity to try my throat at singing. it was... entertaining, if not a bit painful for everyone else. still, between the kindness of a good drama teacher and a remarkably patient choir director, i was able to survive and enjoy performing in musical theater, the audience was able to survive my performance, and anyone in my car was able to survive the ride home in my jeep. and by "survive the ride home in my jeep," i mean listen to me singing west side story all the way home. passengers were allowed--nay, expected--to join. it was wonderful and i to this day have a soft spot for show tunes because of these experiences and my theater friends. and i'd imagine you can sometimes hear some broadway influence in what i sing now.

as high school went on, my parents were again kind enough to humor my musical annoyances and i was able to try my hands at both guitar and bass guitar. between lessons for both from various sources and my brother's humoring me, i really grew to enjoy them. there are still a few very basic melodies i wrote on both instruments that i'll still play when i pick one of them up. it's usually a little embarrassing, but very nostalgic, so i still do it. same with a few i made up on the piano, including the sea-sick saloon number that my mother still may have nightmares about. you probably would too with the number of times i played it on the house piano.

cut to high school graduation. upon ending high school, i leave my home, guitar and drumset to go to my freshman year at byu. i buy a djembe hand drum and exist for a while doing nothing musically other than "bang on my drum all day." well, that and making amateur tracks with hammerhead rhythm station and windows sound recorder. they were good days... i really should post some of them. they're very much amateur, but entertaining just the same. and i can say that because i'm at least somewhat subjective now thanks to the fact that i put them together about six years ago.

cut from college to the mission ("the mission" being a two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). lots of work and not a lot of anything else for some reason spark a lot of ideas and many lyrics were written in a two-pound tesco notebook at night when we had half an hour of free time.

then back home. for the first few months back i had the opportunity of finally finishing/polishing the songs i had started on the mish and was able to put the words to some acoustic guitar and was able to reacquaint myself with my drum set which was delightful. after that, i returned to byu, school started again, and i essentially have spent the time since then playing the same four songs over and over and over again... and wishing i had something more interesting to play.

last year for a few months i was able to play with some computer software and write some digital music which was great, but the analog half of my musical self was still unexercised and flabby with neglect.

but finally, it feels like i've the drive to actually have something more interesting to play. two big reasons i think. first, it's just been so long since i've done much of anything creative that hasn't involved a computer that my desire to finally peaked high enough and it's gotten me out of my creation slump. second, for the first time in ages i've found people to play with, which is a huge boost. this vague shape of a band is a wonderful excuse to start creating again. and funny enough, i find myself being willing to sing in the thing.

that's really what the whole post comes to. i don't consider myself a singer. to be honest, i don't really consider myself a musician. save the drums, my competence on any of the instruments i profess to play is really quite sub-par. i hesitate to consider myself any sort of artist, but if put to the rack over it, i'd consider myself a writer. if you were to take the time (as i admittedly have, and you'd rather not) to look trough my old class notebooks from high school through college you'll see notes sided by countless poems i'd written about anything from my loathing of math to royalty lamenting the need to marry outside of the family. if you look at other sources you can find pieces for the stage including monologues about self confidence and witch burning, and a one-act about story-telling elevator boys. look at even more obscure word files and you can find dozens of unfinished short stories and who knows what that i started and abandoned for whatever reason. after all of my experiences, i still find myself most comfortable with a pen and paper in a desk or performing something that was written there. or eating a grilled cheese. that's also very comfortable. anyway, i guess after ten years of pretending to be an artist, i'm ready to forget the fact that i'm not a singer and sing anyway.

and so faithful reader, you just read twelve paragraphs of lund history so you could read the that last sentence and finally realize what this post is even about. and really, that's the entire post. i think i'll put that line at the bottom in fancy text to make up for making you read all of this for one line... i'm now writing stuff and putting it to use. as in, acting like they're viable works and having people play along with me. should be fun.

goodbye. sorry for being so long-winded and unentertaining. and much thanks to my parents for being supportive in my many worthless and musical pursuits, especially when they were the same ones. goodnight all!

owain phyfe.

hey friends. it's been a while.

this is a quick post to share a bit of writing I did in one of my psychology classes. we were asked to write a quick paragraph or two about ourselves to help other people remember us. did i get a bit carried away? perhaps. on the other hand, they'll probably remember better for it. and as many of you may not really know me very well, i thought i'd post it to help introduce myself.

About... me.

The name is Trace Lund. Trace as in a synonym for residue; Lund as in the Swedish university. I’m a junior or senior depending on how you view my credits, as many psych majors are. My main interests in psychology are abnormal and developmental psych. Hopefully by the end of my academic journey I’ll be able to obtain a doctorate. But how knows? Maybe I’ll wind up being a traveling minstrel instead. Ideally, I’d be able to do both. I play a few stringed instruments, as well as general percussion, so it’s a fair possibility, really. I could travel the nation—nay, the world—spreading delightful music and programs designed to help all those willing to hear my words on psychology.

So. Hopefully you weren’t looking for anything to profound. I think the mental image of a mandolin-playing psychologist with a monocle (and possibly a traditional Victorian garb) may prove to be more helpful in remembering this than my age or town of origin.

i'm sure they'll all want to be in my group now. and no doubt this was very insightful for you. hopefully your new year is going well. maybe i'll post something worthwhile in the near future. maybe.

and here's the link to explain the title.