I posted a rough mix yesterday, this is the final mix. It’s about 95% of what it should be. Project died and unrecoverable, so went with what should technically be the penultimate mix. Better than yesterday’s though, and close enough to right to foist it on the world.
First 30 seconds of this is not xenharmonic. Rest is.
I’m finished forever with Cubase, too many headaches, am learning Reaper. Loving it.
and a little bit of 12edo.
Music: Michael W. Dean
Words and voice: Phil Wormuth
Check out our other xenharmonic / microtonal songs, HERE.
If you want some BipTunia stickers, and some promo cards to hand out, email us here, send us your address, and tell us how many you want and where you’ll hand ’em out. Will send 1 to 10 stickers, and 10 to 300 cards.
Phil’s lyrics (I’ll type all mine up tomorrow. Must sleep….):
Had plans to invest a large part of my assets into combating things like…
“dysfunctional fixedness” and “epistemological disequilibrium”
(you know, real issues facing everyday Americans, like Uncle Fred –
considered to be imperfect but semi-competent.)
Didn’t have the streetwise flair to pull off a random armed robbery
(too much blatant surveillance and I’m not patient.)
It was either the soon-to-be reconvened card game
or… I don’t know what.
Could an evening of fifteen-dollar pots, flat beer, and hot brats
(that fed my anxiety and caused me moderate abdominal pain and excessive gas) cure his defaulted, collateralized debt obligations
largely incurred due to repeated, imaginary, unreimbursable business trips
across, over, and thru the recessive asset gap threshold?
In the years immediately before the crash,
Uncle Fred’s tires got slashed; he heavily invested
any incidental windfalls in lopsided interests
exhibiting the ambitious and risky practice of defying the experts
and overambitious, pragmatic economists and mechanics
(which led to financial chaos, extreme mental distress,
and the purchase of a used .20 gauge for cheaper than dirt.)
Well, Hemingway killed himself with a 10,000 dollar Italian shotgun from
Abercromby & Fitch, a double barrel ten gauge.
Although there’s a discrepancy that it was some other expensive
weapon that ended up cut up by a welder and thrown into a field;
remnants of it remained in a matchbox.
Kurt Cobain, on the other hand, killed himself with a 75 dollar pawn shop Remington shotgun,
Still both career-ending moves and,
and probably ended the voices.
Naw, I love those guys.
Just, ya gotta stick around
and see how it ends.
I kinda wanted to see where this goes
and where we end up on the spectrum.
Because we are on the spectrum.
At least I am.
I don’t think she is.
Are you on the spectrum, baby?
Hey Phil, try not to fall down
that wormhole that reaches
from Maine to Wyoming
while adventuring into the
wilds of Maine this afternoon.