Letter to myself:
This is as honest as I can get. My inner forest is a pine forest. It grows in my chest and sways slowly in a constant soft harmonious eagerness. Outside of my forest, my wish for authenticity and honesty suspends like a spiderweb between the tall buildings of my imagination. The wind and rain rips threatening into the web like a thousand biting dogs. Down on the streets, our muffled voices utters heartfelt clichés to each other in brief eternal moments of rest and joy as we slowly march along to the metronomic clicking cogs of the machine.
The machine is the mass grave of ideas and creativity that runs in the sewers beneath our factories. The machine fuels your Uber. The machine made your shoes. The machine is exhaustion in the eyes that smile tiredly at you from the other side of the counter. The machine supports your struggle - the machine gave you the language to articulate your cause. The machine wants to be your carpet, your wall paint, an invisible force, a schizophrenic insisting on you doing your own part. The oil of the machine is compliance. "Start with yourself!" it whispers.
The machine itself is old, the machine is failing. The machine has outlived its days. And I watch the machine collapse on itself as I sit through a seasonal cycle in my pine forest.
This album is dedicated to the endlessly inspiring and strong people who tirelessy fight for the humanity, dignity and freedom for everybody. Thank you.
1. Sun Song
2. A Strange Absence of Birds
3. Bamboo Eyes
4. Requiem
5. Monday in Turqouise
6. Glue or The Eternal Struggle of Beauty
7. Tragedie
Teis Semey – guitar / compositions
Alistair Payne – trumpet
José Soares – alto saxophone
Jort Terwijn – double bass
Sun-Mi Hong – drums
