WARNING: You are about to witness and partake in a heartfelt, passionate insight, brought to you by Music Recording Artist Sekrett Scilensce. It is raw, uninhibited, and unhinged for your entertainment pleasure. Reader discretion is advised (but fuck it, you’re already here)…
You Know The Sights, Sounds, And Peril Of I, He, The Artist Formerly Known As SekrettScilensce.com; Now know me as SekrettScilensce.net
Surviving The Clowns
We’ve got these clowns in the so-called entertainment-industry. Big deal. You have clowns in every venture in life. School, home, politics, work.
Without clowns, I guess we can’t have a reason or need to be angered enough to change the way things are (or will become).
But you see, that’s the thing; it’s like you’re banging your head against the wall, over and over and over and over; there has to be a better way, there has to be some people with some sense?
I’m not trying to insult you or make anyone believe that what I say is hard truth but, I do think what I’m saying is important.
I feel it’s important.
Every moment I believed in the ceremony, the recognition, the achievement, outlooks were golden, in opportunity, in informative formation, in non-complacent existence.
And then growth occurs, occurred, or recurs?
You see, that was the stamp of approval deemed, noteworthy. What was it, the desire, the passion, the drive, the Grammy®? Now, it’s the lie, the lies, the outburst, the plunge down and the inner sanctum recall to the junkyard of our mind and dismay, the plunge into obscurity because elseone wants us confined to ideas, ideals, and reasoning that bares no resemblance to anything important.
I’m better than nearly all of them, at the Piano, in the Studio, behind the Microphone but no, they who win the award for, “Best album of the year,”—mind you, not, “Best autotune album of the year,” are the victors?
I can’t help it.
I call BULLSHIT.
Who understands? Not really anyone, but my intent and grand passions to clear a perception that has become far wronged seems utterly important, so why should I back down?
Regarding the victors:
Who were they before, puritans, scholars, musicologists? Nobody fucking knows and yet, the Billboard® celebrates the intangible tangibles of an era I sometimes find worth delimiting.
I’m not spouting cynicism or ‘sore-loser’ mentality, I’m just stating the facts, and the one fact I’m zeroing-in on is known as, ‘Critical-Thinking’.
Is it a lost skill?
Where has it all gone, where shall it end up, where will it evolve, how can it spare the loose change to a generation unappreciative and cowardly at times?
Many people will say shut up, some might agree but no matter what, I’m correct at least 50% (so I feel in my heart).
But big deal.
So I carry on, still making high caliber songs, unafraid to experiment and place ideas in my art that are considered not commercially-viable (and all sorts of other nonsense).
Really, those Grammy/Billboard flack-wads are feeling good about all those auto-tuned rink-rats fouling up the channels for the greater artists to shine through?
Well fuck me very much.
Those smacktards that said art was subjective are arseheads, period. I mean, I get it, one person’s gold is another person’s trash but, how can someone not know that they are being lied to, while aspiring to be the next glamorous icon?
One thing is true (whether anyone believes it or not):
Those auto-tune musicians are liars, auto-tune is computer-processing to make bad singing sound good. It’s not an effect like Vocoders or Talkboxes and, they have been winning, “Best album of the year awards for it,” all over the fucking globe.
I’m not saying, “What about me,”—I’m not De Niro from, “This Boy’s Life”—I’m saying it for all who have ever worked really hard to make something pure, uncontaminated, and imaginative, only to be told stupidity like, “Hej, that’s great but, if you want to write for the commercial world…”
Seriously, on most days and nights, fuck all of this.
On the flip-side:
If there is truly room for everyone in this bullshit, FUBAR, politically-correct, pussy generation then make a damn distinction; say, “And the award for best autotune album of the year goes to…”
For the blind kid who never got a shot, for the one arm, one leg drummer that got told, “Big fat fucking no,” and, to the girl who sang beautifully but was told she looked too much like Jack Nicholson; you are great, so stay greater, and show them thy greatness for which they cannot ever possess.
And fuck ELEW…..
And now, I play the Piano for you:
Super Mario Bros. (Overworld Theme) [Koji Kondo]
I hope you’ve enjoyed my acoustic-piano performance; please scroll down to the comments section below and share your heat, ice, passions, or otherworldly sensations with me now!
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And the NSA (just because I THINK they’re watching!)
Not to be confused with NASA!!