So, my band (When They All Fell) and I have wrapped up our latest endeavor, Passengers (although, it's still being mixed), and we've begun working on some new material. With what we are writing now, I'm trying to think of concepts that can carry an album, or in our case a smaller album (an EP for example) or if you want to be crude, a demo, but none of us are too keen on calling it a demo, it's not like we are auditioning for anyone, we do what we do for ourselves, and if someone likes it, great, if not, it is of no concern. Ok, back to how i wanted to approach our next set of songs, my concept for what i think will make a good album, I was brainstorming and trying to come up with material that we haven't really touched upon, or that i haven't really touched upon, something not too vague, because that is simply a copout, and i don't want to do that. I also wanted to start writing about us, as individuals, as the people we play in our daily lives, and i wanted to create a lyrical world and mood that encompasses the things that people our age notice, and experience. Something specific, something almost alien, but something that like minded folk can relate to and be interested in. I also wanted to say something about our society (which has always been at the core of When They All Fell) and how it relates to the bands (more so my) ethics. And now that I have a pretty good direction and idea of how i want to bring it all together, i want to start releasing my ideas here, which may change as we begin to collectively write the new material. So, without further rambling the working title i have in mind is Synthetic Burden, the first full song i've wriiten is The Broken Drones, and here it is sans music.
The Broken Drones
Today’s nightmare becomes tomorrow’s truth.
Waiting for the lotto to level the playing field.
Hope turns to disgust, and that’s all we have in common.
A mirrored expression followed by nausea.
We’ve gone too far.
Existence compared to consumption, we consume.
Rather than experience we pay others to do it for us.
We watch them intently on the television.
We sing along, half knowing the words.
With your last breath you try to buy another.
It’s useless, you’re lifeless, and I’m over it.
We’ve gone too far.