Josh Mossotti

I have been at this craft for a little bit now and in addition to the amount of work posted on this site lies a plethora of early tracks that I produced with mixed success. Success being an operative word of self administered acceptance that I was able to create what I wanted under the current applicable skill set. Man, that last sentence was a long blast of meaningless hot-air. I could have bluntly put my early work was more a series of constructed odd noises than a cohesive song. Inside that mess of abstract sounds there were some gems. I have always kept in my mind that I might revisit some of these as I further my audio competency and try to appease the original expression. That day has come for this track ‘The One Bird Left Singing’. My oldest and one of in not my closest friend Matt Bertke asked when I would be finally coming around to posting ‘The One Bird Left Singing’. I had not listened to it for some time. I did so per his request a couple of weeks ago and decided to give is a once over shine job and post it up here for you all to hear.

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We meet again old friend. A new day, a new track and its rolling emotional cadence. I seem to have hit a stride stringing piano quips, lead guitars and undulating airy pads with deep brooding basslines. Surely this is a self proclaimed ’stride’ and what your ears hear and my mind perceives can be vastly different, but alas this is my ship to captain and you are welcome to board or stand waiving from the pier as I/we voyage through this tempest of a track. I described in a previous post that as much the music stands on its own merit, it is more to me a vehicle of timely expression. If this were the psychiatrist’s couch I would embody this piece to “the blackbirds opened a hole to the attic and all night and day an endless flapping and crashing.” If you do not frequent this site you may look at the previous post of ‘ Dead Letters ‘ by the grotesquely modest poet Travis Mossotti. As nepotistic as it might seem I believe he says what I am unable to verbally as I visualize and set to music that of which our shared muse delivers. Whichever way it comes, it comes… and I think I am enjoying myself; I’m a wreck but whatelse is new.

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I feel kind of bad and even a little selfish. Here I am going about my work here, keeping this page tattered with my own works and ideas with utter disregard for the rest of the worlds’ collections. Shame on me … right ? I don’t know about you, but I have had enough of it. Josh this, and me that. I mean really, how self centered and ego driven can one individual be ? It makes me sick !! Sick I tell you !! Well no longer. Not today. Not on my watch.

I am going to go ahead and imply that the request to post this work was granted. That the taking of someones hard work and deep mental toil is merely for the whims of us all, or at least me, since this is ‘my’ site, is justified. To tell you the truth those finicky artists are a needy bunch anyways. They’re always stepping outside the box simply to look back in and tells the rest of us what we are missing. The gesture alone seems outright insulting if you think of it. I suppose I am doing this gentleman a favor by voicing his words for the world, or my world of subscribers which entails three accumulative visitors. Though I normally operate this site from two machines, so that kind of narrows it down. But this is not about me damn it !! Focus !!

In any case this poem written by Travis Mossotti. I read it for the first time the other day and have repeatedly rediscovered the piece with new admiration. I like to believe I think as a poet, but capturing such imagery and emotion verbally renders me mute. I have augmented my disability through music and visual art, but my lingual lacking is key component for what captivates me without description. Take this poem for what it means to you. I have brought to your attention because it means something great to me.

Dead Letter

In turmoil over the wafer of sun

(rain falling with no grace at all),

I wanted to call you and explain

how I figured out why arsonists

get so melancholy, but my phone

lay there useless as an elaborate

knocker to an empty mansion. I

bit into a ripened plum, cut open

the letter you sent with a kitchen

knife. You put so much love into

your signature; but me, gentle isn’t

the word I would use to describe

how you lifted the lid to my heart,

gave it a stir—such a perfectionist,

always another pinch of salt. Any-

way, the blackbirds opened a hole

to the attic and all night and day

an endless flapping and crashing. I

think they’re enjoying themselves;

I’m a wreck, but what else is new.

~ Travis Mossotti ~

Here is a pretty simple number. There is not too deep an explanation into this track. What is neat for me though is to dissect the tracks during and after completion to gauge what was possessing me at the time of creating it. As you may or may not have noticed I spend quite a bit of time working in music production. There is something about the creation process I love more than I can describe to you here. I often relate to a personal journal of sorts, in that, the motivation for a particular track is solely based on my mood, the things occurring in my life at that moment that drive the music in a certain direction. Now, a lot of the times I will work on a given track for a week maybe two. I have noticed if I push the production too much further, to three and four weeks, I will start to lose the original motivation because I am in a different place altogether. I’ll end up with an overwhelming amount of competing melodies and sounds that ultimately are lost for good and have to abandon the piece before I lose my mind in the process. I described this track as having one really neat attribute that crept on me as it might for you. As the track builds, before you know it, you are smack in the middle of a very soothing groove without really realizing. It likely won’t be something to write home the folks about, nonetheless still a nice piece of work I hope you’ll enjoy.

This track might stray from its preceding pieces but it certainly should carry a similar cohesive mood to the work I generally produce. I have struggled recently with keeping the pulse or drive of a given track since The Big Top was produced. Its a tough thing as an artist to abandon a piece of work that has gone a stray. As soon as I made the decision to move on I dove right into this track. It is a bit less congested than a lot of the music I have made. The melody demanded to be left alone to speak clearly. I hope you’ll enjoy this one as much as I do.