Before April

Every note/blog/thought that has been made public here seems to come from the bottom of some antique espresso stained mug of what used to be ground up beans, soymilk and shake of some old fashioned plant either smoked, ingested, or thrown across the room. (Maybe next time before I write I'll get really drunk next time so you all can see the ridiculousness that lives inside of my intoxicated rather than caffeinated head.)

Lately, I've been performing, practicing and experimenting with a plethora of different musicians and bands. These projects allow me to wear different hats and experiment on various instruments giving me the necessary ammo to spread my creative wings and step out of my one-inch picture frame.

People keep asking me: What's going on with Maid Myriad? Why are you playing all these solo shows and playing with all these OTHER bands? Where's your passion? Which band is REALLY your creative outlet? Whatever happened to that CD that was coming out a year ago? Where IS YOUR MIND?

It may just seem like a random coffee shop moment of inspiration, but I'm pretty sure I'm on to something here.

m&m's:
This music thing, this band thing, this Maid Myriad thing has, in all honesty, not really gone to "plan" in the past few weeks, months, years. With members dropping left and right every few months, it's quite hard to keep a constant "vibe" "set list" or "band" going in such transparent and inconsistent times.

I have written over forty songs, thirty melodic ideas and scrapped three records spread out over three years. We really don't know what to do with ourselves to make anything really happen. (we do, we do. we're just a bit scared?)

Our initial plan was to release multiple records in the year twenty.ten. Take the year of the tiger by the balls and make it our bitch. This is still the plan, but I believe that relying on outside (or inside) forces to swoop down from the heavens and finish it for us is a holographic waste of time that could be spent in a better mirage.

As for the records:
We are not a major label band.
We are not an indie label band.
We are completely unsigned and independent.
Which means we can do whatever we want (or don’t want), whenever we want. We rely on ourselves. We talk to ourselves. We create the record label executives, the booking agents, and the critics in our heads to keep us on track. The downside is, the fictional business suits are not throwing money our way, so our funds are, well.. how do I say this without sounding desperate, NONEXISTENT.

(If I really wanted to make money in this lifetime, I would've decided to be a goddamn lawyer or an accountant. Art isn’t really worth much nowadays, but as long as I can eat and travel, I suppose I’m okay with it…right?)

These sloppily dealt cards have been rather one-sided on the flip leaving the dealer baffled, tired, and...well..uninspired to an extent that may or may not be hindering our creative process.

But

A wise man once told me that you need to be able to create in the middle of anything. You should be constantly creating without any care of what’s going around you in the world. “Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness” Maybe I’ve finally taken these things to heart and decided a few things here and there.

So here is my pledge to you, the dedicated Maid Myriad fan, the high school friend, the facebook creeper addict, the ex roommate, the girl interrupted, the boss, the disconnected family member, the superfan, the cliché Budweiser commercial guy, the psycho-analess the bored hipster, and everyone in-between.

We should no longer baffle or silence ourselves. I am going to objectively create without scrapping, and censoring anything. My opinions of my artistic endeavors are no longer going to be a part of the creative process. I will create to create. Objectively. I will create with myself, my friends and anyone else who is interested in making music together. The name of what it will be called is pretty much up to whatever the moment calls for. The goal is to share them with you and the world. Maybe through different mediums, maybe in large chunks, Maybe slowly. Maybe strictly at live shows, maybe strictly through records. Maybe under the name Maid Myriad, or maybe not.

Yes, Maid Myriad have missed deadline after deadline, cd release show after cd release show without any music, yes we’ve burned bridge after bridge, friend after friend, guitarist after guitarist, mind after mind. Some say it’s about time to cut the losses and lay m&m to rest, but we’re not ready to be specific about anything.

We would just like to thank you for sticking with us and supporting us. I would like to personally thank you for sticking with ME, as Maid Myriad has really been my baby for the past few years.

This is the start of some type of new era. A new chapter in some book that will never be finished.

Maybe it's just me, or with time do things grow with a similarly different complexity?

Maybe I'll find this answer on the bottom of another dirty cup of coffee.

-Jeffrey Christopher Klemm

2:49
3/31/10

ramblings

It's now cup of coffee number four and I finally feel like my heavy eyes are opening up. (pass the squint please)

It's been a crazy few weeks, months, year, days, seconds...everything has been crazy.

I met someone.

You met someone

we're all meeting people.

we are all seething people.

You look at me with those eyes, and I have no choice but to crumble. Into a million pieces. Onto the rusted floor thats needed mopped for days. (You said you'd mop it... I said I'd mop it.)

If we set this alarm, are you sure it would go off? Let's set up a backup plan for later. (Nah we'll just do it later)

Setup the meeting for yesterday. We'll make it then.

My radio has been on for days and days and days. I've heard every note, but am incapable of listening. Wish my microphone would broadcast over these wretched waves and send out a real SOS. The one I''ve needed for hours, minutes, seconds and frames. Fixing a hole where the rain gets in is NOT AS EASY as the Beatles told me it would be. It's as easy as my mother said no and no and no no nonononono.

it'sgettingbetterallthetime.

Just writing. Watching. Easing into something beautiful by thrusting everything away. Seems like perfect foiled plan.

It's whats left of what I did. Or wrote. Or was. or wanted. (you would like that wouldn't you?) Back in ohseven when things were "handled" someone was "handling" things. (was it ever "handled"?)

Time to be a big boy and "handle" it all on my own. again. (notalonedon'tkidyourself) maybe team members will become customer maniacs. Maybe maniacs will become intellects. Maybe intellects will become vultures. Maybe vultures will become alive.

fiftysixsomesongsandnothingtoshowyet

It's all a matter of perception.

Perception is the key.
Perception is the key I have lost.

(where are my car keys anyway?)