Tsing Tse
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My gear sits piled up in the corner beneath a nearly five year accumulation of dust. It calls me, it cries out to me.
I need to write again. I’m almost there, I think I am at least. But not here, not in this apartment. I need the change of scene. this place is like a threadbare coat that no longer suits, and I can’t create — hell I can’t even find comfort, I just mill around the place, biding my time. I need the space I’ve been imagining, I need to build the studio I’ve always wanted. Basically I need to buy a fucking house already.
Well I’m almost there. Lease is up in October. Just a few more months.
Meanwhile, what do I want to write? I think I’m beyond the “band” thing. I think it’s time to write my — I don’t know what to call it. Too orchestral for rock music, too industrial for classical. A rock opera, but maybe no plot, maybe no lyrics. A rock symphony? Well a symphony would require there be, umm, a symphony orchestra. How about “Concerto for Synthetic Instruments and Sampled Noise”? Well, maybe something like that.
But then, maybe there should be a plot. A genuine modern underground opera? I do like the sound of that, if it’s not more than I can chew. I have been hanging at the Darkhorse a lot, maybe there’s a reason… Hey Agonyzer, think you’re up for writing a libretto?
Perhaps a little tease is in order… here’s some of what I worked on the last time I toyed with it — about ten years ago. The working title, as borrowed from Hermann Hesse — “Tsing Tse (The Music of Decline)”. Just fragments, unfinished, unpolished, just a sense of the direction.
