I Forgot What I Was... Saying

Arboreal Records

Ray nard Jones

Arboreal Records

Indie rock, power pop, orchestral indie

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V5.5

(Intro)
(A frantic, four-second drum roll that abruptly cuts into a jagged, rhythmic guitar riff. A phone vibration buzz plays in the background, syncopated to the beat.)

(Verse 1)
I started an article on the death of the novel
But then I saw a video of a raccoon in a hovel
And that reminded me to check if my passport’s expired
And now I’m buying vintage sneakers because my brain is re-wired.
(The guitar riff suddenly stops for one beat)
Wait, what was the lyric before this one?
Doesn't matter, look at the flashing neon sun.
I’ve got twenty-four tabs open and they’re all playing sound
I’m a pinball machine in a digital pound.

(Chorus)
(The bassline drops into a heavy, driving groove; vocals get punchy and anthemic)
Give me the short-form, give me the clip!
Bite-sized panic on a sinking ship!
My dopamine receptors are begging for a rest
But I’m scrolling through the tragedy to find the funniest test.
Oh, attention is a currency I’ve already spent
I forgot what I was saying... I forgot where it went.

(Verse 2)
(The rhythm shifts to a bouncy, robotic synth-pop beat)
The modern mind is a carousel of aggregate feeds
A specialized delivery of artificial needs
I can’t sit through a movie if it’s over ninety minutes
Unless I’m playing a game with a cartoon penguin in it.
(A sudden, bright synthesizer chime cuts through the mix)
Got a notification that somebody liked my complaint
About how modern life requires the patience of a saint.
Now I’m checking the metrics, I’m watching the line
Micro-dosing validation just to feel like I'm fine.

(Bridge)
(The tempo doesn't slow down, but the instruments drop out one by one until it’s just a rapidly ticking hi-hat and an anxious, pulsing bass note. The vocals become a fast, rhythmic chant)

Read the headline. Skip the text.
What’s the outrage? What is next?
Three-second window. Hook 'em fast.
Nothing in the present tense is built to last.
(The vocals start overlapping, panning left and right like intrusive thoughts)
Did I lock the front door? Did I pay that bill?
Is there a vitamin for a fractured will?
Look at the dog! Look at the crash!
Turn it into content! Burn it into ash!
(An explosive, chaotic guitar scratch breaks the tension)

(Chorus)
(Full band back in, maximum volume and friction)
Give me the short-form, give me the clip!
Bite-sized panic on a sinking ship!
My dopamine receptors are begging for a rest
But I’m scrolling through the tragedy to find the funniest test.
Oh, attention is a currency I’ve already spent
I forgot what I was saying... I forgot where it went.

(Outro)
(The music begins to stutter violently, mimicking a buffering video or a skipping CD)
Click here.
Next slide.
Deep breath.
Blindsided.
(The instruments stop completely, leaving only the vocal)
Are you still watching?
(A sharp, sudden "click" sound, like a mouse button, and absolute silence.)

3078/7500

(Tempo: High-speed, hyper-caffeinated indie rock. 165 BPM. The instruments are constantly fighting for attention, shifting from angular Post-Punk guitars to sudden retro synth bleeps. Think Franz Ferdinand meets Devo.) (Intro) (A frantic, four-second drum roll that abruptly cuts into a jagged, rhythmic guitar riff. A phone vibration buzz plays in the background, syncopated to the beat.) (Verse 1) I started an article on the death of the novel But then I saw a video of a raccoon in a hovel And that reminded me to check if my passport’s expired And now I’m buying vintage sneakers because my brain is re-wired. (The guitar riff suddenly stops for one beat) Wait, what was the lyric before this one? Doesn't matter, look at the flashing neon sun. I’ve got twenty-four tabs open and they’re all playing sound I’m a pinball machine in a digital pound. (Chorus) (The bassline drops into a heavy, driving groove; vocals get punchy and anthemic) Give me the short-form, give me the clip! Bite-sized panic on a sinking ship! My dopamine receptors are begging for a rest But I’m scrolling through the tragedy to find the funniest test. Oh, attention is a currency I’ve already spent I forgot what I was saying... I forgot where it went. (Verse 2) (The rhythm shifts to a bouncy, robotic synth-pop beat) The modern mind is a carousel of aggregate feeds A specialized delivery of artificial needs I can’t sit through a movie if it’s over ninety minutes Unless I’m playing a game with a cartoon penguin in it. (A sudden, bright synthesizer chime cuts through the mix) Got a notification that somebody liked my complaint About how modern life requires the patience of a saint. Now I’m checking the metrics, I’m watching the line Micro-dosing validation just to feel like I'm fine. (Bridge) (The tempo doesn't slow down, but the instruments drop out one by one until it’s just a rapidly ticking hi-hat and an anxious, pulsing bass note. The vocals become a fast, rhythmic chant) Read the headline. Skip the text. What’s the outrage? What is next? Three-second window. Hook 'em fast. Nothing in the present tense is built to last. (The vocals start overlapping, panning left and right like intrusive thoughts) Did I lock the front door? Did I pay that bill? Is there a vitamin for a fractured will? Look at the dog! Look at the crash! Turn it into content! Burn it into ash! (An explosive, chaotic guitar scratch breaks the tension) (Chorus) (Full band back in, maximum volume and friction) Give me the short-form, give me the clip! Bite-sized panic on a sinking ship! My dopamine receptors are begging for a rest But I’m scrolling through the tragedy to find the funniest test. Oh, attention is a currency I’ve already spent I forgot what I was saying... I forgot where it went. (Outro) (The music begins to stutter violently, mimicking a buffering video or a skipping CD) Click here. Next slide. Deep breath. Blindsided. (The instruments stop completely, leaving only the vocal) Are you still watching? (A sharp, sudden "click" sound, like a mouse button, and absolute silence.)

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