Music to my Words – Billy Brag and Wilco – Eisler on the Go.

About Music to my Words :

Music to my Words is intended to be a column about the art of writing and the music that can spark specific emotions, moments, transitions or (yes!) sex scenes in your work.

I wholeheartedly believe music is an essential, unavoidable part of writing and I felt it was a subject that was not covered enough in the writing community so here I am.

Now the concept of this column is to squeeze the most (and the best) words out of your brain as you are typing away. Some of these songs may be hard to listen to in a different (non-creative) context but the point of this selection is to use the music to foster creativity in a different field. You may use those for design, drawing, painting… anything in fact.

Billy Brag and Wilco – Eisler on the Go.

I think I’ve discovered Mermaid Avenue on youtube about eight years ago and I have to say I really wished I had known about this record back in my factory days when I was young and angry and directionless, losing jobs every few months only to land in another warehouse and/or factory.

Because this is working class music, or at least one type of working class music. It’s not the kind you listen to on a shift, not AC/DC or Metallica, as you’re shoveling shit around of building things you’d never use yourself. This is not “the guys are on a strike” music like Dropkick Murphys’ would be, this is “I just lost my job and I don’t know what the fuck’s gonna happen music.”

You need that mid-west, rust-belt, former industrial-gone-to-shit-white-trash feel for a book or a story, go for this song, trust me.

This is a song of dust and pain and uncertainty.

This you walking out the side door of a fucking factory because they wouldn’t let you say bye to the guys once the foreman was done with you and you don’t get to make a scene through the front offices this time around like you may or may not dream you could. This is you walking down those metallic stairs besides a loading dock, facing hundreds of yards of cooked asphalt that have long been claimed by wear and weeds. This is you dragging your ass in the hard summer head without money for cab fare or something to drink and you lie to yourself thinking there must be a water fountain in a city park around somewhere if only there were city parks for guys who worked industrial wastelands. But there aren’t. So you take your blue shirt and those blue pants and you sweat your life away as semis rush by and this stretch of Sherbrooke Street doesn’t even have a sidewalk.

You look at miles and miles of abandoned refineries and find yourself longing for days when throwing so much pollution up in the air was a sign the guys were having a good time. You dream of hockey tickets and fast cars, you dream of a cold beer and travels down south in winter. You dream of socks that don’t have holes at the bottom of them and boots that don’t cut the back of your ankles and there are still miles before you make it home.

Then food, maybe? A beer? If there’s any left. You got your papers, Services Canada opens tomorrow at ten. Give yourself a night to feel like shit and then maybe, who the fuck knows anymore?

The End.

Hope you enjoy these,

Take care,

Ian.

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Music to my Words – Supermachiner, Treading in the Wake of it All

02 - Supermachiner - Treading in the Wake Of it All

About Music to my Words :

Music to my Words is intended to be a column about the art of writing and the music that can spark specific emotions, moments, transitions or (yes!) sex scenes in your work.

I wholeheartedly believe music is an essential, unavoidable part of writing and I felt it was a subject that was not covered enough in the writing community so here I am.

Now the concept of this column is to squeeze the most (and the best) words out of your brain as you are typing away. Some of these songs may be hard to listen to in a different (non-creative) context but the point of this selection is to use the music to foster creativity in a different field. You may use those for design, drawing, painting… anything in fact.

Supermachiner – Treading in the Wake of it All

Supermachiner is probably the most obscure project I’ll be covering for Music to my Words and it is certainly not an easy listening but it is indeed a very creative one. Think of the entire project as a post-apocalyptic art project that I would dare to link to the likes of Matthew Barney. Each piece is a deconstruction of a very specific emotion or a dreaded “possible” reality that we may all be facing sooner rather than later.

It’s no secret that I’ve always considered Jacob Bannon as one of the most influential artist in my life so it’s now wonder at least three of his projects will find themselves in this column over the course of the year. Whether it was his way of doing business, his passion for his music, his label or the way he did visual arts that no one else was doing, I’ve always felt compelled by his drive and dedication to everything he was doing.

Treading in the Wake of it All is definitely a song you use to write the “strange.” It is something you use for noir or very dark sci-fi.

It’s that moment when the sun wakes up in the morning but the pollution is so thick even the brightest of sunshine will only give you a faint orange hue through clouds that never seem to dissipate. You make your way out of your ramshackle house to find an old man walking around with a handheld gaslight as he’s headed for some rest after a night of chasing demons away from the neighborhood.

Evil lurks in the shadows in the form of dozens of abandoned little robots that seemed to have merge with plants and the agonizing flesh of insects or rodents. You curse away life as you get ready for your day because resources are scarce and any inch of steel or ounce of protein is valuable in such a day an age.

You look to the sky to find drones, dozens of them, that may or may not have given up on surveying everyone living under them a decade ago. How they manage to stay up there inspire of the terrible weather and the lack of solar power is beyond you but you have much on your plate to feed the younglings so you quickly dissipate any idea of rebellion from your mind as you tuck a scarf over your face and make your way down the alley.

You watch the old man enter his cabin at the very corner of the street, his own little strip of the world safe and sound for at least one more day.

“If only Gaia could find a way to get us all out of this one,” you think. But people seemed to have lost hope such a long, long time ago.

Bio (From Wikipedia):

Jacob Bannon (born October 15, 1976[1]) is the vocalist, lyricist, and graphic artist for the American metalcore band Converge. He is the founder and owner of the record label Deathwish Inc. and the author of many visual works for independent punk rock and heavy metal musicians. Bannon has also composed and performed experimental music as Supermachiner with Ryan Parker and more recently as Wear Your Wounds.

Listen to the song here :