Well, this album could pretty much be the title of my autobiography. Pretty strange considering that I've been known to be quite the bastard. Yet as I get older and begin selecting songs for my funeral (don't have a funeral please) I find that I am somehow nicer than I have ever been in the past. I have no idea how that happened. Oh, and if you are going to have a funeral for me, rather than just pissing on my corpse, play Valuska by Michaly Vig (I guess I'll be dead so the pissing won't really matter anyways). But back to the point. I should be hitting kids on the head with my cane, instead I have bunch of people relying on me to move shit for them and drive them places and act as a general caddy for their lives. And I can't figure out how I made this switch from a total dick to a guy who does all these nice things. Maybe it's some fucked up arc that my life has taken. Maybe the path was already established but I was too fucked up to see it clearly. I'm not too sure how comfortable I am in the ole of the responsible nice guy. Right now, I can only see how this help others and makes me feel like shit. And I guess that experience is more common that I believed. Listening to this album there's certainly a whimsical (Naive?) feeling that hippies of the time relished in. Now, it sounds deflated and worrisome. But that might just be the fact that my ears have a muffle woven through years of disappointment. Okay, I guess now the boozing is starting to become evident in the writing.
Michael Vallera – Vivid Flu (2017)
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