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about

Recorded 2005 in Burbank, California.

Not particularly influenced by the capital "P" Psychedelic rock of the 1960's garage era, though certainly psychedelic in a generic sense, this one was presented with a more modern Brit-Pop sensibility. This was an attempt at an enigmatic monument to Jean Baudrillard, cyberpunk visionary and "father of the hyperreal."

It is set to a droney, strumming acoustic guitar progression, itself fairly bland, but it is given a pleasantly exotic, mystical flavor courtesy of a quasi-Middle Eastern percussion loop, raga-inspired electric guitar ornamentation and a tremolo-treated piano melody in the chorus that vaguely resembles the instrumental refrain from David Bowie's "Ashes to Ashes." I recall feeling that this was one of my strongest vocal performances at the time, and was particularly proud of the punctuated harmonies in the second verse (which serve to accent the last line of each stanza.)

The end drags on for a bit long, and serves as a reminder of the excessively self-indulgent disposition that characterized much of my early work, though at this time, I was beginning to consciously curtail the active presence of such tendencies in my music. At least it wasn't one of those cliche-ridden guitar solos that I seemed to formulaically place into almost every song of mine during this period. Instead, it is characterized by an Indian Raga-influenced scale that modulates a bit, and lots of sharp pitch bending meant to mimic the sound of a sitar more than a Guitar Center cock-rocker.

lyrics

I'm losing touch with reality
You're losing touch with reality
And reality is losing touch with itself

Try to paint a smile on an empty face
Try to write a letter on an empty page
But you can not erase the blankness set in place

But we can't keep it real, we don't know how it feels
We don't know how it feels, so we can't keep it real
And so we simulate, we try to stimulate
But we can't clean the slate, we're only changing states
And when the movie ends and all the lights turn on
Well do you still feel like this is where you belong
We know there's something wrong
We've known it for so long

credits

from Archives, Vol​.​1: A Million Ways to Be the Same, released March 9, 2015

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Dylan Thomas Walter Anaheim, California

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