Author: Jon Ureña

Spanish writer, author of My Own Desert Places and We're Fucked. I have also written plenty of short stories and poetry, as well as two books in Spanish called Los reinos de brea and Los dominios del emperador búho.

Song: Before the War, by Colours Run

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Back in my late teens I frequented the Pointless Waste of Time forums, a comedy site belonging to Jason Pargin, later writer of the John Dies at the End series. The little I remember of my teenage years was beyond miserable, but I looked forward to a few things; one of them was the songs that a member of that forum posted regularly. His name was Tim Cameron, an intelligent, funny and honest British fellow who made music that I still vibe with. He later formed a band that he called Colours Run. They seemed to be on the path to grandeur (appeared on live shows and such), only for Tim to suddenly call quits on the whole thing, move to the US, and never be heard from again. That happened about twenty years ago.

His songs disappeared from the internet. As much as I would have loved over the years to listen to them again, they were gone. A few years ago, though, I came across an ancient CD in which I had burned some, unfortunately not all, of his songs I had downloaded.

I want others to know of this creative dude and his talents, which used to brighten my horrid days, so I plan to post on here all twelve recordings I have left of his. Tim, if you happened to google your old band out of nostalgia and came across this site, I’ll take them down if you want. And thank you for your songs.

Without further ado, here’s the original version of “Before the War.”

Here’s a recording of “Before the War” from a live event they did:

Lyrics below:

When we lost the human race
All our brains got replaced,
And all these robots never laugh
At my jokes.

So take me back before the war.
Take these things, they’re all yours.
There’s nothing, nothing worth
Fighting for.

You stole my drugs, crashed my car,
But you left no lasting scars.
Retribution slipped so soft,
Like a blade.

We blew it up, knocked it down.
Never tried giving ground, and now
There’s nothing left of love
But what I saved.

I get tired winning games
When the pieces never change,
And all the clever moves you make
Seem so tame.

You can sulk if you want.
Don’t you wonder what’s the point
When there’s nothing left of love
Worth sulking for?

Did you cry when you left me?

Another year older,
The world on my shoulders,
And I’m still no closer
To finding a girl
Who won’t bore me to tears.
Not here.

There’s nothing worth fighting for.
Don’t remember what I did before the war.

Remastered “Behind the Door” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 3

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Udio released the ability to download your produced songs in parts (bass, drums, other instruments, and vocals), so naturally I’m remastering all songs I thought done. And I wanted to tackle as soon as possible my favorite of all I’ve produced: a strange piece that somehow feels like it encapsulates most of my life in eight minutes and thirteen seconds of pitch-perfect emotion.

Udio uses AI to divide each song into stems, and it had trouble with this one: the wavering instruments and vocals turned up in different stems, only to return to the original. I haven’t seen it do this with any other song remotely to this extent, which adds to the strangeness of the for me timeless song. Too bad I came up with this one before Udio improved its audio quality.

Song “Knife-Beard Dreams (psychedelia version)” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 4

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In case you don’t know, I’ve been obsessed with producing songs lately by exploiting the amazing AI service Udio. I’ve already made and released two full albums based on a strange story I wrote back in 2021, named Odes to My Triceratops. It follows the adventures and misadventures of a trio of friends who live in a town lost in the map. The main dude is a songwriter named William Griffin, who’s passionate and sensitive, if a bit unhinged. Another character is William’s next-door neighbor Claire Javernick, a blind redhead. Then we have Lorenzo, who’s a sentient triceratops for no justifiable reason. You can download the first two albums of this story through this link.

Here’s the second version of “Knife-Beard Dreams,” this time a mix of psychedelia and indie folk. I’m very impressed with how this one turned out. While the other three songs I’ve produced for the fourth album are unnerving to some extent (which sometimes the subject matter and/or vibe require), this one is so pleasant-sounding and groovy that I see myself listening to it over and over. Add to it Udio’s improved sound quality and my growing mastering skills, and even the MP3 version of this song sounds fantastic.

Lyrics below, same as the other version:

The words on the page,
They’re too plain.
I can’t read.
I have no clue what anything means.

The man in the heavens had a plan
To prove I’m insane.
He sent the sky crashing down,
And it crushed me into dust.

Deep down, the darkness whispers;
It calls and calls, and I must heed.
I can’t take my life,
But I can’t live the one I have.

Why the hell am I singing?
Nobody’s around to listen.
I should just shut up
And go back to sleep.

Maybe I’ll dream about a giant worm
With a beard made of knives.
Maybe I’ll dream of homicide,
And wake up with a big smile.

Remastered “St-a-b Ya-self” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 3

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Ever since Udio released the ability to download the songs in parts (drums, bass, other instruments, and voice), I knew I would end up remastering every single song I believed done before. And I’m glad I’m doing it, because this awesome psychobilly song “St-a-b Ya-self” sounds fucking amazing now: growling bass, crystal-clear voice, crunchy distorted guitars and drums.

What happened to psychobilly, anyway? There should be far more of it out there.

Why not, here’s a psychobilly song by an actual band made of humans:

Song “Knife-Beard Dreams (progressive metal version)” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 4

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In case you don’t know, I’ve been obsessed with producing songs lately by exploiting the amazing AI service Udio. I’ve already made and released two full albums based on a strange story I wrote back in 2021, named Odes to My Triceratops. It follows the adventures and misadventures of a trio of friends who live in a town lost in the map. The main dude is a songwriter named William Griffin, who’s passionate and sensitive, if a bit unhinged. Another character is William’s next-door neighbor Claire Javernick, a blind redhead. Then we have Lorenzo, who’s a sentient triceratops for no justifiable reason. You can download the first two albums of this story through this link.

I’ve made this weird little song about having to keep living when you don’t know how. Part progressive metal, part motown soul. It exploits Udio’s improved audio quality, that joint with the ability to download the song in stems, has resulted in my highest quality song yet.

The singer’s voice right at the end sounds almost exactly like Tim Cameron, leader of late 1999’s, early 2000’s amateur British band Colours Run. That’s one hell of an obscure reference, particularly because the guy disappeared about seventeen to twenty years ago, and I haven’t come across anything new of his since. Hey Tim, I’m a middle-aged dude now, but I still remember how eagerly I clicked on the songs you posted on that forum ages ago. Your music was among my favorites.

Anyway, lyrics below:

The words on the page,
They’re too plain.
I can’t read.
I have no clue what anything means.

The man in the heavens had a plan
To prove I’m insane.
He sent the sky crashing down,
And it crushed me into dust.

Deep down, the darkness whispers;
It calls and calls, and I must heed.
I can’t take my life,
But I can’t live the one I have.

Why the hell am I singing?
Nobody’s around to listen.
I should just shut up
And go back to sleep.

Maybe I’ll dream about a giant worm
With a beard made of knives.
Maybe I’ll dream of homicide,
And wake up with a big smile.

Remastered “Burying the Beast” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 3

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Hey, remember the garage-rock song “Burying the Beast,” that I’ve remastered like five fucking times already? Well, now that Udio lets you download the drums, bass, other instruments, and voice of any song separately, I had to try and master the best possible version of this song. I really, really hope it has been the last time. This song has a high amount of distinct parts for its length.

In any case, the end result is far, far punchier and clearer than all my earlier attempts. If you liked this song already, I suppose you’ll really like this version. If not, well, suck it.

Life update (07/26/2024)

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I’ve come to the conclusion that, once again, I’m at the mercy of another cycle of depression. It took me a while to recognize it this time, maybe because I’ve been so busy, but today I’m characteristically sluggish, disoriented, irritable, hopeless, etc. Merely enduring the bus ride that gets me to the train (that gets me to the bus that gets me to work) was a struggle due to the black hole pulsing inside my brain. Later, I sat at my workstation only to find out I had five tickets and eight requests waiting for me to solve them, and I wanted to break down in tears. Such urges don’t translate into actions, though; it would be unsightly.

Throughout this week, my mind was filled with the usual thoughts: given that my job makes me miserable, why not quit, even though I would hardly find a better one? Better yet, why not just give up and not have to deal with this world anymore? I assume this cycle of depression will be spent like all the others: dragging myself through my responsibilities while brute-forcing through my brain’s suggestions that it would probably be better for me not to continue existing. I suspect that some future cycle will find me too exhausted and destitute to muster up the resolve to resist. Not that I care particularly about that, because my life has been shit on average.

Fallout: London finally came out. Although I really don’t have time to spend on video games, I figured that I might as well give myself a break. But the game crashed at a certain point, and looking online, it seems that many people are struggling with the same issue. I found out that the mod team suggested installing ten or so mods to improve the experience, and that might fix the crashes, but I can’t be arsed. I’ll wait for a Wabbajack modlist or something. Too bad; I had gone through the trouble of opening my computer case and installing the M.2 drive that I bought months ago, because I was running out of M.2 space on my main. Oh well, at least I transferred my original files for the Odes to My Triceratops albums to a sturdier location.

I’m supposed to return to my ongoing novel We’re Fucked. Maybe due to the depression, I’m having a really tough time. I haven’t even finished working through my notes for the current scene. Unfortunately, I went on hiatus right at a moment that would require me to do some research and come up with reference images, which is one of the most annoying parts of writing (the fact that, in most cases, you’ll likely win the lottery before managing to monetize your writing may be the most annoying part).

What else, what else. I’m finishing the first version of a new song, titled Knife-Beard Dreams. Quite the cool tune. Udio, the AI-service I use to produce my songs, recently improved its sound quality, and figured out a way to divide every song into stems (bass, drums, other instruments, and vocals), which has made me slide further down the spiral of song mastering. It satisfies my OCD, but I suspect in a similar way that pulling the lever on a slot machine satisfies some other people’s neurological configurations.

I’ve been reading book after book of the Mushoku Tensei series. I wonder what makes it so compelling for me. Is it the notion of exploring a fantasy world? Of meeting intriguing, exotic individuals? Of possessing undeserved power that dwarfs most other people’s? Of amassing a harem and impregnating your wives one after the other? Maybe a combination of those and other reasons, along with the fact that I vibe with the author’s humor and general pervertedness. There’s also a solid feeling of progression, of accompanying these people as they travel the world, enroll in college, deal with a growing household, find their place in a troublesome world, etc. It’s also light reading that distracts me from my woes.

I think that’s all for today. Why did I bother writing this post? I wanted to fill some time at work in this Friday afternoon, as a form of procrastination. Why did you bother reading, though? Don’t you have better things to do?

Remastered “Paleontology of Pain” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 3

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Udio, the amazing AI service that has allowed me to produce about seventy-five songs, has improved once again, this time, apart from other great things, allowing the user to download individual WAV files for the bass, the drums, the instruments, and the vocals of every song. The division is AI-based, so not perfect, but fantastic enough. It gives me the chance to individually remaster those four parts for each song. Too bad the instruments other than bass and drums are mashed together into a single WAV, but can’t ask for miracles. Hell, even being able to download a song in parts seemed impossible to me months ago.

Of course, this development makes me want to go back and remaster every single previous song. My OCD has been killing me lately.

Anyway, here’s the vastly improved version of my dance-punk masterpiece “Paleontology of Pain.”

Song “A Tribute a True a Work of a Art (bitpunk version)” from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 4

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In case you don’t know, I’ve been obsessed with producing songs lately by exploiting the amazing AI service Udio. I’ve already made and released two full albums based on a strange story I wrote back in 2021, named Odes to My Triceratops. It follows the adventures and misadventures of a trio of friends who live in a town lost in the map. The main dude is a songwriter named William Griffin, who’s passionate and sensitive, if a bit unhinged. Another character is William’s next-door neighbor Claire Javernick, a blind redhead. Then we have Lorenzo, who’s a sentient triceratops for no justifiable reason. You can download the first two albums of this story through this link.

I’m still remastering the third album of Odes to My Triceratops, but I had already planned to make alternate versions of the fourth album’s opener. In the past, I thought that producing different versions of the same lyrics and structure was a bad thing, I suppose because regular albums don’t do that, but I don’t know why I would be subjected to the same rules. So I present to you the fuzzy, unnerving bitpunk version of “A Tribute a True a Work of a Art.”

Lyrics below, same as the original version:

Are you truly acquainted with William Griffin?
I know the prick, yeah.
What’s your impression of him?
He’s the biggest dickhead I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.
If he were a salad, he’d be a crap salad.
That’s a very strong opinion, sir.
I don’t think he even has friends, or is loved by anyone.
Can you believe he goes around calling himself a songwriter?
He did write many songs for the band Sexican Dinosaw, including “Raptorial Bliss,” and “I Have a Tail Like a Sword.”
Yeah, utter shit-piles of stupidity and impropriety!
So you wouldn’t consider him an artistic individual?
You might say that he’s artistic in his depravity!
Listen, his lyrics are depressing as fuck.
They’re like what a seagull would crap out after eating a depressed philosopher.
Can he be blamed, though, for his descent into madness?
Word on the street is that he’s afflicted with PTSD.
Post-triceratops stress disorder?

If I had to summarize William Griffin
Into into a meaning meaning-devoid action it it
It it would would be would be would be would be be would be by by writing
Writing this this song this song this song this song song.

These lyrics are bullshit,
So I’m skipping to the point.

Ladies and gents, gather round!
To the far reaches of the land, let it be known,
That the songwriter-slash-murderer William Griffin
Is the biggest coward in the world!

Do you have some unfinished business?
Does a part of you still cling to hope?
Please make sure to tell me, boy.
I gotta know.