Isoloper

Spring comes and goes. It's cold again, being that it's the Great North of the Midwest. Usually when spring comes about I think "Well, there's no excuse now for staying indoors. Time to go outside."

Except here's the problem: for the past year, it's been a necessity to stay inside, secluded from the world. Or, if you need to take a break, half of the world already has plans, so you're left by yourself. You can go take walks in nearby parks, drive down to a tourist spot and take in the crowd, go get a bite to eat at a diner, drink coffee and get ideas for art and writing . . . but it doesn't compare to a group out on the town.

I'm going to think back on 2008 as the Year of Seclusion. 2009 has actually led to more seclusion so far, but I think that will disappear next week, which is why I'm touching on this topic tonight. There used to be this huge social side to me, eager to meet and shake the hands of new friends, flirt, wink, court the unknown. Seclusion seriously does something to you, it's no secret.

When I was researching Solitary Confinement in prisons for some of the lyrics in "I Source", there was a detailed month by month guideline for the phases people go through in dealing with the lack of human interaction and stimuli. I'm too lazy to go find it for the purposes of display here, but the moral of this is that you forget how to interact. I've forgotten how to interact.

I'm shy. I avert eye contact, it's hard for me to initiate flirtation if I'm with a friend. I let the other do all of the meeting and greeting, and I'm left looking like a poor schmuck who has nothing to offer the world. Not that I'm bitter about this. I know I'll be getting that social side back, but for the past couple of years it's been hard. When I go out by myself I find it easier to delve into the social schema I've sparingly tapped into, which is no surprise. But it's hard to find the energy to go out to strange places with strangers abound if you've developed minor social anxiety.

Recording Patch in my room has been one of the hardest, most trying events in my life. I feel like a part of me has wasted years of my life in my pursuit of a massive dream. After the EP recording is completed (hopefully within the week) I hope I can look back and say "It was worth it. Losing grasp on reality and society was totally worth it now that you have 'Schematics' in hand, done and ready."

You lose touch on your appearance. I forget I have long hair or short hair, what I did the day prior (that's half the reason I wanted to do a day to day blog for this year, to keep track of my day to day history -- it sort of works, I guess), when I did the laundry last, if I have to do errands and when to call people up on their birthdays. Dates are lost, seasons blend. 2008 went by so fast, this year too. It still feels like Fall, for some reason. I'm outside at work, but you can't focus on how good the day is, the foliage surrounding the playground. You have to make sure children don't get hurt, dodge kids crashing into your crotch all day.

Identity is lost.

I think this is why my main topic in Patch is the loss of identity. Because as I did research, reading about pop culture and rock, I felt myself fade away month by month.

In the memoirs, I'll go on the record and say "Schematics" was not a fun record. It was an ideal I held high since I was little. To have a record all done by me. All the instruments, writing, all me.

"Written, recorded, and produced by Peter Kean." I met the challenge. I beat it.

But that's that. Now, I hope to God I can have a band to help me out in recording from now on. Or at least have a team in a place other than just me in my goddamn room to record. I don't mind editing on my own computer, I'm a control freak, I need to get the editing just right. But everything else?

Recording the never released "Citizens Banned EP" was fun. We were all over the place in the Twin Cities. Parents' houses, Dr. Fink's recording studio, basements, drum booths, practice spaces, living rooms. It was disorganized, but at least we got out in different locales. Interacted. It was fun to record.

I think one of the best feelings portrayed in the "Schematics" recordings is frustration. If you went and listened to isolated vocal tracks and expanded them to their original recording length, hearing the in between banter and coughing and rustling, you'll hear about as much swearing and grunts as heard on a fishing vessel full of testosterone laiden sailors. It fucking sucked.

If I really persevere, really get down to brass tacts, I'll have "Switch" out to Schuyler next Sunday, May 3rd. May 4th, 2008 was the day I started recording "Trachomanic". One . . . whole . . . year. Exactly.

I love symbolism and time tables and how things work out. But I never want to go through a year long endeavor dealing with seclusion ever again.

I think I'd kill myself. I'm not kidding.

Oasis -- "D'You Know What I Mean?"