In the winter of 2014 I was in Melbourne, Australia, where it was summer. I'd been hanging out with some of the first people I met after arriving a month or so earlier because they were the only people I knew, and I wasn't especially confident in meeting new people. Our friendship had all but run its course and in hindsight I should have just moved on and met some new people or just hung out on my own, but instead I sulked about it. A few months later I would come to this realisation after wasting a lot of time with people who weren't good for me (though we did have some good times), but for now I was sulking.
I went for a long walk on my own and walking back to the centre of Melbourne along the beach front I devised a song. The tale of a man walking into the ocean and encountering a shark. Each line of the song would consist of four syllables. I wrote almost all the lyrics on that walk, and when I got back to the hostel, to the room I was sharing with three people I hadn't realised I didn't enjoy hanging out with anymore, I got my laptop out and started writing the music to accompany the lyrics. It would be entirely orchestral, and I had a great plug-in for that. Over the next couple of days, I wrote the full song and over the next nine years I would make changes to the instrumentation and the vocals, but the structure and the lyrics would remain the same.
I've gone through four different orchestra sample libraries and added instruments, as well as changing the notation to add more depth. What I thought was amazing back then would probably sound quite pedestrian to me now. Though the structure of the song has remained the same since the beginning, there is a lot more rhythm and melody, more harmony, and more dynamics. After trying different vocal styles and never getting it right, even considering hiring a voice-over artist to perform it, I finally found that all I needed to do was record the vocals fairly tonelessly and the day after I'd been pissed and watching a band that I was familiar enough with that I could scream along to most of the songs they played. The combination of dehydration and the effects of shouting all night gave my voice a perfect deep, raspy quality (which I'm sure there are better ways of achieving but I haven't figured that out yet).
I'm sure I could continue working on this song for another nine years and it would probably be better still, but at some point, you've got to cut the cord and move on.
For nine years this song was called "Shark Attack". I always thought that was boring but couldn't think of anything better. I think this is better.
Also the person in the photo is a woman, so I was conflicted about calling it "A Man Gets Eaten by a Shark", but in my head it was always a man and I have a man's voice because I'm a man, and I took that photo of someone free-diving when I was learning to scuba dive in Thailand and I always thought it was cool (there wasn't actually a shark there).
lyrics
I took four strides,
Into the waves.
I stood knee deep,
Then took four more,
Up to my waist.
Began to walk,
And didn't stop,
'Til I was caught,
Up in the tide,
And couldn't stand,
And then I swam,
Away from land.
I caught my shin,
Upon the reef.
I felt it tear,
I felt it bleed,
But I swam on.
Just let it trail,
Right behind me.
Now feeling weak,
And slowing down,
Trying to breathe,
And not to drown,
I felt a nudge,
From underneath,
Then something pierc-ing into me.
I was dragged down.
I lost my breath.
I spat bubbles,
'Til none were left.
I swung my fists,
But with my eyes,
Shut up so tight,
I only missed.
And in the drag,
My arms grew tired,
Until right be-fore I expired,
I landed one,
Scratch on the skin,
Of my unknown,
Attacker's eye.
I was released.
I scrambled up-ward through the swell.
I saw the sky,
And took it in.
I panted as,
I tried to swim.
My shredded leg,
Only flapping.
It was no use.
I once again,
Felt the piercing.
Drag on my skin.
And though I tried,
Just one last time,
There was no chance,
Of saving me.
So with that I,
Screamed until my,
Lungs were empty,
And then I filled,
them with the sea.
Born at the dank floor of a ceaselessly deepening pit, Dr. Nowt, in his decreasing sanity, haphazardly hurls notes and words
together, bellowing out the result upward through the void in the hope that it might reach the surface, even just to the lip of his abode where by chance, one might happen upon his cries and project outward his message of peace, kindness, hope and a distaste for humanity....more
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