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Before There Was Music There Was Sound

by Ross G. B.

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Wash 00:42
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Others 01:06
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Let Sound Be 02:05
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Florahum 03:47
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Grounded 00:28
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Waves Return 00:12
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about

Fusing acoustic folk, electric sound-scape, edgy poetry, postmodern antics, unique vision and a minimalist band-free approach; this San Francisco Bay Area artist presents an introspective examination of the 21st Century Experience.

credits

released May 7, 2013

Important note from the artist: This recording is best experienced amplified at medium to high volume with superior quality headphones in a calm, quiet and peaceful environment.

Written, Performed, Recorded, Mixed and Produced by Ross G. B.
San Leandro, California
Field recordings captured throughout California
All artwork by Ross G. B.
February 2013

The Words:

Start Experience / Unlock Space / Timbre Reflections / Tuning is Important: Tuning is important. Started my cross currents. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Ineffective discourse. The infinite curve does bend. To move forward we have to move on to new points of perspective. Life is a constant state of flux. No flux capacitors. The egos and state of humans forward conflict (and resolution). Dogs pee in various spots. Territory markers. There is also territory in the dimension of the audio spectrum. Sound waves require room to be born, grow and exist in plastic. Or the luxury of ones and zeros. The Nyquist–Shannon sampling theorem states that perfect reconstruction of a signal is possible when the sampling frequency is greater than twice the maximum frequency of the signal sampled. / Orthonormal Community in the Modern Age: You might have found community to thrive in your personality. Politically, I just want to beat me up to allow interpretability. / Norms and Reborns (Revolution at the Molecular Level): Things that I tell you. What is the norm? Thumped, adopted, so forth and so on and antiquity. Finger rhythm. Middle of the drum. Very generally, I don't think that example poses a challenge. That picture-perfect state I wanted stated. The denied used. That all were born in dependence to their mother. You might say that the absolutist or universalist isn't someone that recognizes everything is relative and in particular. Literal morals and truth is ultimately relative to the perspective of one’s own center of gravity. If you want you can call this dependence on the circumstances. Endogenously!!! The structure of the scientific revolutions. An unfortunate side effect of the application works of the paradigm shift of humanity. Ever since society has embraced the Christmas postmodern retypes, the service writers’ truth in accepting the omen one has made…. Nothing. Read in the restorationist. All non-damaging. E=MC Squared. The privilege of light is that it attains speeds faster than any other means imaginable. The culture aspects of this virgin panhandle are unclear and monstrous. The ancients observing modern light are most certainly confused. The poor Irish Sacred Heart. It’s all gone viral. It will be revolution at the molecular level. / Trust Us Rust Us: For Mercury but I understand you. It is raining and chilly. Telling you people just trying to be the Bernard oversight. Publicly you leave the show. Individual meets operation in it. The very remembered Interval. Just me can actually be the legal authority. Administration fighting the decisions. Focus on the wine growing symmetry. Regarding memos and open and due process. Transparent advertisement. The administration participates in targeted killing. Memos that don’t reach the public discourse. For the needs of the few to protect the many. Excuses of safety. Policy issued position of this administration. Uncommendable changes put in place. Picture the opposition to torture. We are talking about the Constitution. Trust us Rust US. / The Intention of Community: Embarcadero women and bums gather the attention of my observation. Interesting speakers coming out – poets of the street. Lunchtime in the a.m. The Nintendo generation is dead. Lost to the prime real estate of expectation. The invitation to freely speak is squandered. Marginalized. Everybody is welcome. To come over thank you guys. The evolution takes cartoonists. Reeks of East Oakland. A semi-kind of landscape ambitious revolutionaries. Approach is critical. Hopefulness each week. We sugar-free blood food. Scholarship deliberation. On the street is where it’s happening. The ambient romanticism is super informative. / Rocket Ships and Midday Deliveries: Rocket ships and the dulling gaze. That’s the way we were taught amazed. The pays a mind for dues today and you can’t understand what you don’t say. You feel it now in your heart. You make a difference every day you start. When the rocket ships and deliveries and these feelings you have got to see. The rocket ships and the feelings bliss. From the moon they rise and then they stiff. And the price they pay is matching plays. The feeling rides for days and days. / The Assertion of Eye Intercourse: Light is significant. Factors of perception. One angle. Since the senses. Confirmed. Agreement. Trust. Fractured in letdowns. Stressed in tribulations. Lost in uncertainty. Inward we reflect. Value definitions. Outward we project. Our intentions. Through intensity. Or lack there-of. / Resonance (Gathered from the Myth of Silence): Pre-dawn silence. Under starlight. Crisp air. Tall foliage shadows. Swaying calmly. Focused deep meditation. Inner voices tuned. Terra peace. Tear a piece. Modulation. It doubles! Triples! Quadruples! Goes exponential! Resonance reflected outward! Bam! Pow! BAM! Here comes the noise of the world! / Grace (Sky Over San Francisco at Dawn): Brothers and sisters. Fill spaces. Wedge and break too. Paint pictures. We have all not yet seen. Melt the blue sky. Into dreams unfolding. Like the kindest spread. Heaven brings grace. Over cities and forests. Suburbs and deserts. Shopping malls and oceans. Highways and mountains. The universal path of life. We all share. Keep walking. / Wash: Crystal breaking. Salty foam. Head the waves of light. Into the onward sway. Deep blue fury. Heals. In between toes. Soft settle arch. Motion collects. Divides us up again. Constant. Evolution. In the moment. Shaky. Lunar pull. In between. Resting. Preparing. For the peaceful struggle. Final balance. / Others: Sunrise waters. Rage. See your cold face. Waits. Ready. Rise among the light painted! Rise amongst the elements! Rise from the blue dark grey horizontal! Rise among rolling scope! Rise rise rise! One surfer stands. Below is pain. Below is freedom. Below are unhealed wounds. Below is experience. Below is silence. Below is the evolution of fear and doubt. Fear and doubt. We think about others. All is within us. / Newer Fancier Prisons (Visual vs. Auditory Perspective): Newer fancier prisons. Dogma soundscapes. Dodge harmonics. Fundamental vibrations. Math modulation. Melodic intonation therapy. Mirror returns. Gesture. In the pictures I paint. It always existed. Visuals all at once. Define between. Acoustic and visual perspective. Linear fashion. Lines. Lines. A flotilla. At sea for money and spice. Human ambition. Death of us all. Cabrillo just landed. / Mitigation and Litigation (Mind Body Light Survey): Mirror. State of compliance. State of relaxation. Acceptance breaks ritual. Together in generations. Bonded in heritage. Challenged. Forged. Reformed. Referred. Redone. Swept in desk drawers. File cabinets. Ringers and whale watching. Cortisol stimulation. Faded in backup hard-drives. Penny-pinchers and dollar sacks. Given in to the middle-aged numbness. Lullaby clerk. Humming the mail song. Wet delivery yet dry on the docks. Capitulate inside. Kill the opportunity. Modern health profession. Granular in scope. Like the surf-sand. In mirrors. Thru light. We survey the balance. / Not On Your Radio Station (Doing Fine): The times we played. The feeling stayed. Though I found it hard what to do. The placements arranged. You feel you need your planes. Thought we worked together on the day. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to crawl. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the station after all. I don’t know. Maybe I saw it all fall down from the inside. We’re doing fine. I don’t know. Maybe I saw it all. I don’t know. Maybe it’s fences after all. I don’t know. Maybe I saw it all fall down from the inside. A place in time. In the space you ride. You never felt this way before. You facing line to rearrange your mind. You gave and gave. You gave enough. I don’t know. Maybe I felt the pages. I don’t know. Maybe I rearrange this. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way you find the light. On the Inside. / Let Sound Be: Let sound be. In quest for silence. No end. There is none. At the core. Heartbeat. Waves. Nervous system. Soundtrack. Humans cannot experience silence. Silence is death. We are designed to fit expressions. Around the space of mediums. How more important than what. Sound is texture. Landscape. Nothing specific. Never will be. Only the neurons matching. Undiscovered territory. The composer. The instrument. The performer. One singular body. Welcome liberation!!! From the prison of melody. From the prison of harmony. From the prison of structure. Let sound be. / Vacationland (Always Sound Always Waves): Vacationland. Wave communion. Picture perfect hot plate. Vibrating reed. Engulfs small room. Post cooking. After-dinner store. In the snobbish audio. No tropospheric ducting. Always sound. Find dispute yet socialization. Of wreckage. Broken pieces. Get back together. Constant flux. Tomorrow’s moment. Yesterday’s trance. Today’s gains and losses. In every molecular relationship. Always waves. Enabled. Curiously picked. Tree. Reached beyond. Within means. Imminent desire. Found nature. Pleasure comes. Waves. / Loud Noise (Adam’s Evolution into Metaphysical Libertarianism): Loud noise. Chosen and thrown. Propagation outward. Forever endeavored. Get back in. With tools. Overcoming collective laws of the physical world. / iYou iMe iLive iDie (The iSong): iMe for a me. Want a penny for a me. iYou want a you for the reasons that want you. iLive for I live for the longing that iLive. iDie for I die when it’s time that iDie. iMe for a me want a shelter for a me. iYou need you for the reasons that need you. iLive for I live for the loving that iLive. iDie for I die where it’s place that iDie. iMe for a me. Want a purpose for a me. iYou love you for the reasons that love you. iLive for I live for the living that iLive. iDie for I die how it’s why that iDie. / The Chatter of Immigration and Emigration: One hundred pounds of Jesus Christ could deflate the balloon army that stopped to visit soldiers in the lowlands. They only remember courthouses scrapped before the land was sold. Too young to feel the fear and too old to remember what could have been. Mexican empty space expands American lands. North and South. Desperate to drain the river yet too wet to dry the lands. With open arms Catholic brothers amuse themselves. Pale white slavery and the outcome in humored doubt. Life at a competitive level. Alcohol en-mass or finer greens. Trading for routes and opportunities. Compressed cotton to meet singular needs. Have faith in the space you borrow. The time you take. The value of your labor. The chatter of constant movement. / Beyond Audio Storage Mediums: Green box stores timbre. Spatial tone owns sensory. Open. Waves go out. / Transplant, Set Down Your Strings: Transplant, set down your strings. Listen. Golden native. Florahum. Gently rings westward. Follow the sun growth curve. Slow decay in later course. Finally withered and falling. Breaking down. Giving carbon. Flourish and decline. Aura remains. Young make Florahum. / Florahum (I Told Myself): Oh I feel it’s coming. And I see you running. If I bleed would you wrap me. If I be just let it be. I told myself I never take the weight behind us. I told myself I’d never add it up to minus. I told myself I would never see the light blind. I told myself I would never say goodbye to find this. / The Age of Over Amplification / Grounded: Energy finds. Short path. Ground down. Earth. Stone. Final destination. / The Fall of Perception: Can’t see sky is grey. Can’t smell like shit. Can’t taste corn syrup. Can’t hear top ten radio. Can’t feel what’s happening. Can’t feel what’s happening. Can’t feel what’s happening. / Devolution of Music / Waves Return: Waves return. Give life. They never leave. Only perceived. / Complete Experience / Secure Space / Be Imperfect Harmony: You've got to be imperfect harmony. Don’t you see? Oh don’t you see? ///RGB2359PACIFIC28FEB2013///

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Ross G. B. San Francisco, California

Singer / Songwriter / Guitarist / Artist / Producer was the key founding member of the Mariposa, California rock group Asopriam and former guitarist and engineer for Moon in Leo. In addition his work with various bands and projects, Ross has released several solo albums including FEAR FOR SALE (2005) and DOORS AND MORNINGS (2009) and BEFORE THERE WAS MUSIC THERE WAS SOUND (2013) ... more

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