I don’t want to give away who this song is about right away, but HAPPY ELECTION DAY! #vote
So, here’s a concept that’s been knocking around in my head for a few months: a song about the opportunity to fuck someone that you may never have again. Right now, it’s a gorgeous woman who offers herself to a man on vacation with his wife, but I see this going in a few different directions with maybe three stories. Who knows? The writing’s in the re-writing… and this is only the shitty first draft… of YOLO LAY!
CURLFRIENDS! MCCLEANIACS! Thanks for your patience with my leave of absence, blah blah blah, like the guy said at his weird hole-in-the-wall Periscoped open mic, I have been putting too much weight on, well, most everything. Like, I don’t want to wear shorter sleeves because my elbows have these weird bumps (I think it’s a form of psoriasis. Doctor? What doctor?). My point is, who fucking cares, you know? We’re all disgusting skin bags.
It’s a metaphor for this project I’m doing, which is no different than a lot of other “1 A Day” things that people do. I’m going to write, record, and post online for your enjoyment/satisfaction your life is better than mine, the shitty first draft of a new song. I’m not sure for how long I’m going to do it, but maybe I’ll just get through the first 30 days, hey?
So, here’s the first one. I’ll keep talking about what it means to me below:
I gave myself an hour on this one, although I’m already at just under 3 hours with posting and blogging about it and other distractions. But I’d like to get it down to 30 minutes. Like Morning Pages: bust out the shitty first draft in 30 minutes. Every day. Just bust through; do it, let it suck, the best is yet to come. If you care to follow along, you can do so at http://www.youtube.com/thedirtycurls.
I’ve had a hard past year. I know, you have too. I don’t know about you, but I forget sometimes how much being creative makes me happy and centers me. Especially right now in the United States with the election; it’s easy to get sucked in because you’re getting impassioned, and getting impassioned feels good. But getting angry just begets more anger… I know because I am super guilty of letting my anger get the best of me. But also, creativity begets creativity. So, maybe it’s best I let my creativity get the best of me.
So why don’t I just spend 30 minutes a day on a song? Why make us sit through your shitty first drafts? The internet has enough CRAP on it.
Accountability, my babies!!! You, my friends, are now my captive (well), expectant audience. And I fucking don’t want to flake on you. So, I’ll see you tomorrow.
(Thanks to the amazing Dan Goldman & Lili Higa for the little push I needed this morning with the help of some coffee and paleo brunch… and to Anna Sawyer, whose 100 bad songs project has been bouncing around in my head lately)