JAMES BRITT

I’ve tried some online book-tracking sites (The Story Graph being the latest) and it’s motivated me to just (or also) post such info on this site.

So: Read(ing)

Fuck Trump and anyone who supports him.

Like that piece of shit Musk.

I deleted my Twitter accounts. I had a number of them for all sorts of purposes (back in the day the API was an interesting tool). Now it’s a white-nationalist cesspool of vile propaganda.

I realize this is a trivial thing in the scheme of things, but nonetheless, if you have a Twitter account, delete it. Stop propping up that fascist scumbag Musk.

You should do the same for Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp, for related reasons. Zuckerberg is happy to spread utter bullshit propaganda that literally gets people killed, all for pure greed.

Billionaires are not your friend.

My musical output has greatly diminished since the death of my wife.

It changed me. She was the person I shared everything with, and that made everything more special. When she died it was hard to make anything because I felt, who am I going to share it with? My best friend was gone.

Things have improved as I came to terms with grief, but I still have a hard time getting motivated.

So, I’ve been looking for ways to, essentially, trick myself into starting pieces.

One is to compose ringtones and notifications for my (and maybe your) phone.

I got tired of the selection of built-in notification sounds, so I set out to make some that were more distinctive. I came up with, so far, 8 (I think), though same are variations of a common core.

The first custom ringtone I made was actually done a few years ago, when I dated someone briefly, around 2021. I thought it would be nice to have a ringtone specifically for her. That relationship didn’t last, but the ringtone remains.

I’ve written two more ringtones since then. It’s a good get-going trick because I’m mostly looking to get something that suits a utilitarian purpose. But, in the process, I find myself playing around with melody and harmony and instrumentation. All things that have been giving me ideas for longer pieces.

Something I noticed as I was listening to them recently was that I liked it when the ringtone didn’t sound, for lack of a better word, conclusive, or complete. What I mean is that they, in some way, feel (to my ears) as if they were extracted from something longer. This makes me want to go back and extend them, develop them, to discover just what that longer piece might be

These ringtones aren’t meant to reflect or describe the associated person. Of course, as I try out different melodies, I do ask myself if the piece is somehow suitable (by whatever broad definition) for the person, probably in a way that would only makes some sense to me. I check to hear if it somehow “works” in the given context.

But it has turned out that a resulting piece really does seem to capture something about the associated person.

I’ve so far not played the newer ones for the people they are for, and I have no idea if they would even like them. They have a certain angularity and chromaticism I like but may sound odd to others.

This chromaticism, etc. is a result of early versions sounding too “nice” or obvious or trite; I will write a piece, listen a bunch, use it, then later listen again to see if I still like it. That is when I start to tweak things. Or start over, maybe with some core part of the original, maybe from scratch.

In the end, since I’m the one who is going to be hearing these, I have to like it. But I’d like to think these friends would, too.

At some point I probably collect these ringtones and notifications and assemble an album for release (but without spelling out anyone’s name).

In addition to the ringtones and notification sounds Ive also composed two wake-up alarms. I wanted something not too chipper, not too harsh, something nice to ease me out of my dreams.

Last edited: Sun 10 Nov 2024

I added another track to my album Loosies.

I’ve been stuck in a creative limbo since the death of my wife a few years ago.

A big part of it is that so much of my sense of self was based on my relationship with her. So much of the joy of making art of any kind came from sharing it with her. She didn’t always care for what I made, often referring to my music as “scratchy guitar” (a term I came to embrace). But when she died there was, unsurprisingly, this great void.