David Bowie Is Dead // This Is What He Means To Me

Optimistic Underground

“Where the fuck did Monday go?”

David Bowie is actually dead. It feels strange to say this. More than any other artist on the planet, Bowie always seemed to move beyond mere mortals. To the world, he was larger than life. His work was timeless, always a step ahead and off to the side from everyone else. Even his most popular songs felt beamed in from another place, with a unique sensibility that could come from no one else. He is universally beloved by entire generations, despite remaining as weird as a man can be.

Infinitely more important to me, however, is the space he occupied in my life. David Bowie is the one and only artist to have been there all along. I mean this in the most literal sense.


He starred in one of the first films I can remember watching, Jim Henson’s dark fantasia Labyrinth. Despite…

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Odd Future: Tyler The Creator and Hodgy Beats on Fallon


Optimistic Underground

Since I actually sought this out on tv and stayed up to watch it, AND it turned out to be more than worth the time and effort, sharing seemed to be on order.  It’s Tyler, The Creator and Hodgy Beats of OFWGKTA.

So check this out and enjoy it as I have.  Several times already.  A few highlights:  Their insane energy and enthusiasm.  Tyler getting away with wearing the upside-down cross ski mask.  The song itself, fucking great even when edited.  The J-horror girl standing there doing nothing.  The gnome.  Felicia Day warily shouting “WOLF!” And of course the perma-grin final few seconds in which Jimmy Fallon carries Tyler piggyback, and a (possibly inebriated?) Mos Def shouts “SWAG, SWAG, SWAG!”

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Skyramps – Days of Thunder

Optimistic Underground

Skyramps is the combined efforts of Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never – loved here recently) and Mark McGuire (Emeralds), spinning electric gold through a tight 33 minute set. If you’re picturing the homespun sci-fi synthesizer burblings of the former soaking in the ethereal guitar ambience of the latter project, you’re on the right path. This is basically mana from heaven for those of us who happen to be fans of both.

Click the artwork to download the album as a zip file.

When I heard about this release, I practically shat myself. 2009 saw the rise of a more user-friendly, nearly pop natured breed of drone music the likes of which had never yet crossed radars. Drone for the masses?  Not quite. But this is, for instance, far more palatable to your radio listener friends than a Final or Scorn, or even latter day Seefeel

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i killed my heroes


when i was a child
i acted like one
looking up to others
i had a list of heroes
and i wanted to be
just like each one of them

when i became an adult
i wanted to pull that little boy aside
and tell him not to set his hopes so high
because when you fall
you fall far

today i killed all of my heroes
when i realized they were just like me
setting themselves up for failure
but when they failed
they failed into becoming my hero

what they set out to do
they didn’t achieve it
but to a little boy full of dreams
wandering aimlessly
for more than what life
had brought him
they were definitely heroes to him

today i step out
from under my own shadow
and become my own hero
fall far
and along the way
learn how to fly

A Happy Home


Honesty before happiness
But not too much

Togetherness over independence
My story is yours

You sit in the driver seat if you like
I trust you

The real you
Not the person we all prop ourselves up to be for society to

I want to help make your life
A little easier

A man in my own element
But gentle enough to hold you when
you need to

I kill all the spiders

Good to the bone
I want to make the world more

Capable of love
To give and receive it

I want to see you grow
I want to help you mature into who you
want to be

Honest in my endeavors
I’m here for you in heart and mind and
body and home

You are the best thing to ever happen
to me
You wear my throne

You are my best friend
You are my happy home

Heartbomb (Bohemian amethysm).

Romani wanderer. Traveler of the night.We hide our light with our world all abloom lit in adventures always found with you. Wherever we lay our pirates hat is always a party to be had and a home to the soul for deep resting, but never forever ever permanent.

Honey, close your eyes for just a little bit. I promise the fun won’t end when you wake of it.

Yes, ‘it’ as in the thing you long for. The rolling moments of sweet lit friendship. The babbling brook of your paths past now found intrenched in togethers jolly.

Lost in a ruin of time. Time to go, because you come from smaller times in smaller worlds where time is a shorter distance where little to do is in everything and in order to change that you must reinvent each instance.

Find new worlds with longer spiraling timers arrows. Study the science of it all and break what little time left you have in your heartbomb’s clockers keep.

Don’t count sheep. Move past them to the next dream. Find the inner vision of your most longing and wanting pretty personality smiling jackal for a Hyde of hungry teeth. And when it consumes you and runs away with you under red lit skies slowly starting to fall in, peer into her darker eyes while you still can, and know of their every detail – study them well. They are on a similar journey. But don’t blink. You might get left behind.

Time tripper. The magical taboo of romanticizing time thieves – as if the worlds history full on misery were not enough for these primal hungerings. But we seek to move us past that. All of time is but a concept. All of life but perspective. Choose yours well.

Turning Romanian culture into privileged erasure pop vulture. If only everyone had such opportunity but to ‘choose’ to be happy. Some of us have taller hills to climb to find such a vantage point to this one place we share space in called reality.

Brother Gil Scott warned me of this. But I don’t think he anticipated Twitter. Or the gift that is an online world so connected at the hip. Knowledge of everything at your finger tips. Now we choose what realities we subscribe to.

So long as there are bills to be paid, battles to be won, and sugar in your tank, you’ll have time to chase to make up for the unique storied misfortunes where always you are victim to a victimhood forever singing your sad, sad song.

I’m interested in writing the lyrics to the song where you are your own superhero. What powers do you want? Would you like the bubble of Christian American middle class white male luxury? It rides late into the night wherever it pleases and if pulled over gets a gentle reminder of wiser fatherhood advice like as if every police officer were a friend of a friend a relative my own neighbor brother.

We all share the face of paler ghostly atrociousness from rope to hide to tree to auctions to America the dream and how the white man truly lacks a vision inclusive of different cultures.

Highland traveler, speaker of Cant, taker in doom. You highlight insecurities then dance at their gloom. The upkeep is for the Jones’. But fuck comparisons. You’ll always lose in the end. The odds of ‘better’ are always stacked against you.

Instead, meet the sweet young thing that goes by the name, Appreciation. She sings with what she’s feeling right now and she moves her shapely body as if gravity were but a dance to be had with time. Shake the feelings you previously had about deeper procreation inhibitions being controllable. Appreciation is smiling at you again.

What was this poem about again? Damn, she has nice hips…

sing a little love


sing a little love so pure and true
sing a little love for me and you

id like to sing a little love song
for a life where
all your dreams come true

id like to bring you sunny weathers
inside your heart where i find bloom

id like to give you time to grow
from the joys in life
with peace and room

id like to help you write this love poem
with all these words
i sing of you

of a life filled with happy memories
of our time lived well spent
of us always holding hands

of us dancing in tune to each others

id like to put a little love
in your heart
put a little love in your future
growing up so fast and soon

to the rise and fall
of wandering moons

in a childs growing anticipation
for late nights of magical stories
told of wonder and gloom

find yourself in this love poem
keep its flame well lit
and always true

ill need your help to finish it
and to help our child
write theirs too