Greetings From Pluto!

 

Distance between Earth and Pluto: 4.67 billion miles

Distance between myself and the rest of you: 4.67 billion miles

Chances you are reading this blog: 1 in 4.67 billion

For about a year I followed a guru. (It’s pretty common thing to do in Los Angeles. Like acting or bulimia.) He said some pretty profound things, many of which made absolutely no sense, and yet they’d somehow rattle your skull. Like this nugget:  

There are billions and billions of souls, waiting to be born.  

Yeah.  

I’m not 100% convinced that, in some other dimension, there’s a Waiting Room for Souls, crowded with spirits, all of whom are holding little pink tabs with black numbers printed upon them, waiting for their number to be called.  

But songwriting to me is very much like this. There are billions of songs out there in the ether, waiting for someone to bring them into the universe.  

Lately, I can’t walk into a room without stumbling upon a new one, crying out to me.  

“Pick me! I’m edgy and political!”  

“Pick me! I’m dark and depressing!”  

“Pick me! I’m fun and upbeat! A nice counterpoint all your other dark and depressing songs!”  

“Pick me! I’m mediocre, inoffensive, and melodically predictable! Oh wait, you’re not Ed Sheeran…”  

Here. You want to see the list of the songs I’m working on?  

Percentage of you who want to see the list: 54%  

Percentage of you who have already moved onto something else, mostly because you didn’t appreciate that Ed Sheeran joke: 98%  

OK, I’ll put them into two batches: songs you might have heard before (at least those of you who downloaded the demos), and brand new stuff, along with their statuses (statusi? statuseses?)  

 

SONGS THAT WERE IN THE DEMO COLLECTION  

 

ALIVE 

Tales of Heartbreak and Destruction  

Where The Bodies Are Buried  

Shapeshifter  

Searching For God In A Godless World  

Nothing Escapes Not Even Light  

Why Should Anyone  

 

QUESTIONABLE  

I’m Not Afraid To Die  

Black Box  

The Ends of The Earth  

My Psychotropic Mistress  

 

CUTTING ROOM FLOOR  

Persona Non Grata  

The Devil Knows I’m Dead  

Ghosts In The Hills  

I Know The Way  

 

BRAND SPANKING NEW SONGS  

AS WELL AS THEIR STATUSES  

WHICH DON’T REALLY MATTER  

BECAUSE YOU’VE NEVER HEARD THEM  

BUT I LIKE MAKING LISTS SO HERE WE GO 

 

ALIVE  

On A Plane Bound For Italy  

Beyond Your Shrine (Lyrics by John Souders!)  

Before The Devil Knows I’m Dead  

The Devil Knows You’re Dead (Yes, these are two very distinct and different songs)  

Wood Burning Fireplace  

Since The World Turned Flat  

Corpse Pose  

Top of Vanalden  

I Wanna Be Your Man  

 

QUESTIONABLE  

I Just Don’t Know How To Say No Anymore  

That’s What I’m Gonna Gonna Do Tonight  

Hands To Myself (Cover of Selena Gomez song (!!!))  

Backyard Stars  

Slaying Of The Firstborn  

All This Scorched Earth  

Oh God, I Think I Might’ve Drawn Blood  

 

NEW SONGS, IN THE ETHER, ASKING TO BE BORN  

Lost In America  

I’m Not Afraid Of The Dark  

Not In A Million Years  

The Tale Of The Garter Snake!  

Superhighway In The Night  

New Mexico 

* * *

I'm guessing most of you know by now I’m attempting to record this album on my own. While it’s been an artistically liberating experience, it’s also the most isolated I’ve felt musically in a long time. 

Even when I’m in the room with people I see often, I feel like I’m in off in the distant outer reaches of space. 

The only way I can truly come home is to finish this fucking album. Trouble is, the more I record, the further away I feel. It’s like playing Whack-A-Mole®. I get one thing done, something else immediately pops up. 

JOSH: “Finally finished this vocal track!” 

MOLE: “Oh yeah? Fuck you, Josh! Now you gotta record the harmonies!! HA HA HA!!!

MOLE #2: “AND HOW ABOUT THE PEOPLE GETTING BOMBED IN SYRIA? YOU THINK THEY GIVE A RAT’S ASS ABOUT YOUR STUPID FUCKING ALBUM YOU SELFISH FUCK?????” 

I’ve tried blogging about the isolation for the past couple of weeks, but I get overwhelmingly depressed (both about the isolation, and the fact that I’m one of the few people on earth who is still writing a blog) and just move onto Facebook to see how badly Trump is fucking up the world today. 

Percentage of You that enjoy hitting Moles on the head: 62% 

Percentage of you who believe I should change my stage name to Bob Ledi (pronounced “Leddy” like Betty or Geddy Lee): 3% 

* * * 

You may have noticed that my voice isn’t as agile or pitch perfect as Michael Buble or - alright, fine, fucking Ed Sheeran. Which means I have to work twice as hard to make sure every song stands on its own. 

So to be absolutely certain this album is meeting the highest Joshua Path standards… 

I’ve been going somewhere… 

Once every two weeks…. 

Into the ether… 

And I will leave it at that. 

 

Percentage of you who think that was an eye-rollingly pretentious final passage: 37% 

Percentage of you who want to see some drawings: 76%


Joshua Path is a singer/songwriter in Los Angeles, California. His upcoming album, "Tales of Heartbreak and Destruction," or possibly "The Devil Knows I'm Dead," will be released under the name Bob Ledi. Or maybe the 1-800's. Or maybe just Joshua Path. He is very confused right now.


 

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