Released Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 1 on YouTube

This concludes the release of all the finished albums I have for the story. If back in the day you enjoyed any of these songs, produced during the very early days of Udio in which the song quality wasn’t good enough, you should probably listen to the songs or the whole album again, as I had Claude Code work its magic through the frequencies.

YouTube video’s description:

This is the first of three completed concept albums about a trio of friends living in a nowhere town: William Griffin, a sensitive and increasingly unhinged songwriter; Claire, his blind and illiterate next-door neighbor and perpetual mystery; and Lorenzo, their friend, who is inexplicably a sentient triceratops.

I made roughly eighty songs about them during Udio’s brief, lawless glory days, when a generation could sound like an actual band playing in a room, and you could still use swear words. The project ran through three albums and into the beginnings of a fourth before I ran out of steam, around the same time that changes to Udio’s model made the music feel notoriously worse.

Returning to these songs now is strange. Some of them still make the hair rise on my arms. William, Claire, and Lorenzo feel like forces within me that split apart, took on lives of their own, and built a mythology that contained that strange period of my life.

The earliest seeds of the lyrics date back to 2021. I can play guitar, but I was never going to become all the bands these songs required. The music changes radically from one track to the next, because each song takes whatever form its emotion demands. The characters and their shared emotional history are what hold the albums together.

This first album is the roughest of the three. I had just started producing songs with Udio. I was trying my way through writing song lyrics for the first time, with the additional constraint that I intended to sound like a somewhat-unhinged middle schooler whose best friend was a triceratops and who tended to filter reality in surreal ways through his dinosaur-addled brain. The resulting lyrics are sillier than usual, while retaining the earnestness and honesty that I intended for the whole story. But sometimes the lyrics get too dumb in retrospect even for me, which makes some of these songs a bit hard to listen to.

That said, there are real winners here, at least to me. Claude Code did everything it could to bolster the audio quality of this early-era Udio audio productions, and it has worked beyond my expectations. Thankfully you won’t have to listen to some of the songs in their previous states; some sounded as if they were played through a blanket.


I don’t know how the notion for this series came to be back in 2021, during one of the wildest creative periods of my life. Suddenly I knew I had William (an unhinged kid who expressed himself through music), Claire (his illiterate, blind, next-door neighbor who remains mostly opaque to him), and Lorenzo, a goddamn triceratops. I didn’t need to reason their existence or why writing about them was so important to me. I just felt it, so I soldiered on.

Now that I’m older and I have come to understand myself better, I do know why I needed to produce these songs, and why listening to them feels like coming home no matter how much I’ve tried to distance myself from this project. This story is my dead youth. An unhinged artist with a raw heart, who loved too much in the wrong ways. A blind, illiterate mystery whom the artist was devoted to and couldn’t afford to lose. An ancient, violent source of chaos who never left William’s side. That’s myself split in three. And I also know why Lorenzo had to die, and why Claire had to disappear, even if I’m the only one who understands.

I want to return to this story and finish it properly. I don’t know if I will. These days I promise too many things to myself. But I want one day in my late forties to return to these songs and new ones and feel the same emotions that these three albums recreate. So at least to me, Odes to My Triceratops didn’t deserve to be forgotten, and with the YouTube releases out, they will outlast me.

Released Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 3 on YouTube

Over the years since I produced these songs, I’ve gotten from time to time notices that people downloaded the first and second album, but I never go around to presenting the third album as a cohesive whole. Now it’s up on YouTube. I doubt that anyone happening to read these words actually cares, but in case you’ve enjoyed any of these songs in the past, the whole album warrants a listen.

YouTube video’s description:

This is the third of three completed concept albums about a trio of friends living in a nowhere town: William Griffin, a sensitive and increasingly unhinged songwriter; Claire, his blind and illiterate next-door neighbor and perpetual mystery; and Lorenzo, their friend, who is inexplicably a sentient triceratops.

I made roughly eighty songs about them during Udio’s brief, lawless glory days, when a generation could sound like an actual band playing in a room, and you could still use swear words. The project ran through three albums and into the beginnings of a fourth before I ran out of steam, around the same time that changes to Udio’s model made the music feel notoriously worse.

Returning to these songs now is strange. Some of them still make the hair rise on my arms. William, Claire, and Lorenzo feel like forces within me that split apart, took on lives of their own, and built a mythology that contained that strange period of my life.

The earliest seeds of the lyrics date back to 2021. I can play guitar, but I was never going to become all the bands these songs required. The music changes radically from one track to the next, because each song takes whatever form its emotion demands. The characters and their shared emotional history are what hold the albums together.

This third album is more cohesive than the second one, and is bolstered by the improved audio quality from Udio’s model generation at the time. But this album lacks the more varied, distinct narrative arc of the previous one. Some of the songs on this album are real bangers, though, and Behind the Door may be my favorite of the series emotion-wise.

William’s story doesn’t end here. I just haven’t gotten around to producing the entirety of the fourth album. Maybe it’s time to pick it up again.

Favorite live performances #1

I figured that I may as well post my favorite legendary live performances as I recall them.

Back in 1977, Lynyrd Skynyrd performed “Free Bird” in California to thousands upon thousands of teenagers, a tremendous amount of them gorgeous, many of whom likely proceeded to get pregnant later in the day. One of them may now be your grandma. About three months from then, the singer (Ronnie Van Zant), the goateed guitarist (Steve Gaines), and his sister and backup vocalist Cassie Gaines died in a plane crash, which essentially ended the band, as Van Zant was its beating heart. This video captures not only legendary talent, but an America that is dead and gone.

Sometime in the nineties, Radiohead’s lead Thom Yorke bared his heart while playing “Creep,” a song you shouldn’t ask him to play in newer concerts.

Joanna Newsom, back in 2010 during her Have One on Me tour, punished herself every night for the daughter she closed the door on. The way she loses herself in her craft is spellbinding.

Albums that marked me, Pt. 1

As a solitary dude, all my life I have relied on music to connect with the world at large, to feel that my feelings weren’t that unique or detached from the rest of humanity. Over the years, I’ve returned to certain albums that have spoken to me in ways that can’t be fully put into words. I love discovering new albums, and perhaps that’s also the case for whoever is reading these words, so I’ll spend some of my limited time on Earth sharing some specifics about the albums that have marked me, and that in many ways changed me.

Today’s album is Palabras más, palabras menos, by Los Rodríguez. A bit weird for me to start with this album; even though Spanish is my mother tongue, this one is the only album in Spanish that I have listened repeatedly over the years. I like the entire thing, but I find myself repeating four songs in particular.

“Todavía una canción de amor”

The song speaks of a love already dead and gone, but that has never let the narrator go. I discovered this album back in 1995, when I was ten years old, and I only came to fully understand the song years later, when I found myself sleepwalking to places that I had shared with a past lover, hoping but also dreading to see her appearing there as if summoned.

Death is a spurned lover
Who plays dirty and doesn’t know how to lose.

I’m trying to tell you I’m desperate waiting for you.
I don’t go out to look for you because I know I risk finding you.
I keep biting my nails of resentment day and night.
I still owe you a love song.

Singing is shooting against forgetting,
Living without you is sleeping at the station.

“Mucho mejor”

A song that praises losing oneself in sex and general debauchery, for when you don’t give shit about anything else but making love in the balcony with your likely quite underage lover; the ideal state of mind.

Sweet like wine, salty like the sea,
Princess and vagabond, deep throat,
Save me from this loneliness.

Honeymoon, paper moon,
Full moon, cinnamon skin, give me nights of pleasure.
Sometimes I’m bad, sometimes I’m good.
I’ll give you my heart for you to play with it
.

They could accuse me, she’s underage.
We’ll go to a hotel, we’ll go to dinner,
But we’ll never go together to the altar.

“La puerta de al lado”

A haunting song about a man who has given up on life, has detached himself from anyone who knows him, and is staying at a motel that he expects will be the last place that sees him alive. Beautifully written, depicting very well that suicidal state, and ends the song powerfully by mirroring a previous symbol in an understated manner: he had mentioned someone having hanged himself next door, the door itself marked with a “Please do not disturb sign.” Now, the same sign hangs on the narrator’s door.

Let time pass
With a wandering gaze, no direction to follow,
A book always open,
Pages torn one by one, filled with resentment.

In some place,
On a secondary provincial road,
The light in the window
Shining with the noise of passing trucks.

And at the front desk, there’s a fake name.
No one in the world knows where I am,
Not knowing, not knowing where I am,
And now that I’m alone with my thoughts,
I’ll wait for the wind to come and find me.

There’s someone out there,
Talking in the hallway as if mocking me.
Laughter is heard,
And the sound of spoons, and a girl says “yes.”

And at the door, there’s a sign hanging,
That says: “Please do not disturb,”
Never again, never again, never again.

“Diez años después”

My favorite of their songs, it speaks to unresolved grief, regret, and other complicated feelings for a past love that he wishes yet dreads that it could restart. This song played in my mind many times as I wrote my latest novella, Motocross Legend, Love of My Life. I’ve been in love for more than twenty years with the lyrics of this song.

If ten years later I find you again in some place,
Remember I’m different now, but almost the same.
If chance brings us together again ten years later,
Something will flare up; I won’t be polite.

Ten years later, who can go back?
We’re here on earth for only a few days,
And heaven doesn’t offer any guarantees:
Ten years later, better to start anew.

If your trust has eroded somewhere,
Don’t forget I’m a casual witness to your solitude.
If ten years later we’re not the same, what can you do,
Another ten years and then, start together again.

That was a lovely spring,
But it was only the first one.
Ten years later, time starts to take its toll.
I still have bullets left in my chamber,
But I always save the first one for you.
Ten years later, better to laugh than to cry.

I gave you a letter I never wrote, unread by anyone.
Today, ten years later, everything remains the same:

It never reached you.

Within my heart, nowadays, there’s no room left.
If I lost my mind, it wasn’t because of love, but loneliness.

Life is a grand waiting room,
The other is a wooden box.
Ten years later, better to sleep than to dream.
You can’t live any other way,
Because otherwise, people don’t notice.
Ten years later, who can go back?

Ten years later, better to speak than to stay silent.

New songs by Colours Run

If you want to know about my story with Tim Cameron and his band Colours Run, check out my previous post about it. In summary: back when I was a teen, until I was eighteen or so, I used to frequent some comedy forums named PWOT, where an English fellow by the name of Tim Cameron, and nickname of Camerhil, posted his songs. I found him brilliant. You had the sense that this guy opened his heart up to you. It’s like he felt he had little time to do that in this world, so he was in a hurry to make it somewhere with his music. In 2007 or so, along with his bandmates, he published an album, and then he disappeared to the US and was never heard from again. I never heard from him again, at least. As far as I can tell, you can’t even buy his works these days.

I used to treasure his songs, but I had lost most of them along the way. It was almost a miracle that I came across a twenty-year-old CD with about eleven songs of his, and that was all I had left. Last night, though, a kind soul gave me an early Christmas present; turns out that there are other former PWOT members out there who loved Tim’s music.

Without further ado, here are the missing Colours Run songs (apart from a few ones that are, let’s say, only for former PWOT members).

From the album Cynical Wonderful:

“On My Side”

“Pilot Light 30-04-07”

“Beautiful Waste of Time”

“Scars”

“The Traveller”

“Perpetual Motion”

“Apathy Ever After”

“Pilot Light”

“Marketplace Crisis”

“Good Night”

“Tethers”

“Song for the Doctor”

From the E.P. The Sticks:

“Old”

“The Sticks”

“Curiosity”

Doghouse Demo:

“Before the War (demo)”

“Chaos Song (demo)”

“Tethers (demo)”

Unknown:

“Pilot Light 1st Master”

“On My Side”

“Fireflies”

“The Snowline”

“Beautiful Waste of Time (demo)”

“Beautiful Waste of Time radio”

“Before the War radio”

2007 demos:

“Birnam”

“Gossamer acoustic”

“Gossamer with vocals”

“Gossamer”

“Methods of Escape (no drums)”

“Methods of Escape”

“Pilot Light 07-02-12”

“Pilot Light 30-04-07”

“Prelude in C”

“The Snowline 16-03-07”

“The Snowline”

“Wichita Lineman”

Now I have more songs by Colours Run and Tim Cameron than I ever did.

Song “Schizosaurus Rex” (Paisley Underground version) from Odes to My Triceratops, Vol. 4

In case you don’t know, this year I’ve been exploiting the amazing AI service Udio to produce songs. 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.

So yeah, a fresh new song directly to your ears, this one in the style of the relatively obscure Paisley Underground movement, which is a sort of garage psychedelic rock with a Californian vibe. I’m very fond of how this tune turned out.

Lyrics below:

A beast from the deep,
The monster under your bed.
Eyes red like the setting sun,
Claws the size and weight
Of a heavy human soul.
It can’t die; it only transforms.
It can’t be stopped,
Unless it decides to stop.

I have a portal to hell inside my throat.
It hurts, but I’m getting used to the pain.
Still, I don’t know whom I hate more:
The world, or myself.

This isn’t the story of how I died.
This is the story of how I met a girl,
We fell in love, and she betrayed me.
She didn’t do it on purpose;
She was just a dumb kid.
Besides, the darkness drove her crazy,
Almost as crazy as me.

I ain’t a poet, couldn’t hope to be,
But I’m the only person left:
A castaway in a plastic kayak,
Drifting down the River Styx
Past skeletons clinging to rocks,
Reaching out for a bite to eat.

You and I, love, we shared our lives,
We did the best we could,
But the best we could
Was a steaming pile of dogshit.

Someday I’ll make it to that faraway shore
Where eagles soar on golden wings.
There, I’ll sit and rest in my blue suit.
I’ll watch as time goes by,
Not aging a day, not losing a thing.
The memories will blur and fade
Until all I have left is me.

EDIT: I fed this post to the Google AI thing that generates podcasts out of your material. Yes, I’m writing the lyrics, you guys (who are by the way unaware of the fact that they’re AIs themselves). Check it out.

All the songs I have of Colours Run

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.

A couple of weeks ago, I posted the first song of theirs I intended to post. Back then, I wanted to focus on a single song per post, but I’ve been busy with other stuff lately, so I ended up not posting any more. To my surprise, someone who also likes Colours Run found my post and urged me to share the rest of their songs, particularly “Tethers” and “Apathy Ever After.” I suspect I have never listened to those songs. Looking back, right at the end I stopped visiting the forums for personal reasons, and that’s when Colours Run released their “real” album, that is now unavailable for whatever reason. All the songs I have of theirs precede that album.

Without further ado (and no lyrics this time):

“Before the War”

“Before the War” (live)

“You-Centric Song”

“Alphabet Soup”

“Sand”

“Plastic Cups”

“Winter’s Day”

“Chaos Song”

“Curiosity”

“Paper Cord”

“Paper Cord” (live)

“Colours Run”

Listening back to these songs, it’s a disgrace that Tim and his boys didn’t make it. They were the real deal. Even decades from now, if I live that long, I’ll still love his stuff.

If you reading this are a fan who has stumbled upon this blast from the past, if you happen to have other songs of theirs that have otherwise been lost to time, by all means tell me where the hell I can find them.

EDIT: I found “Tethers” on YouTube:

This one’s “Beautiful Waste of Time”, from the YouTube channel posted in the comments:

Song: Before the War, by Colours Run

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

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.