Previously...

Track 13 - Volume II
Production: Dialectic




Welcome back to The Author's Monthly Quarterly my peoples! This track starts off volume two, "Loving the Struggle", 'cause at some point you realize that the struggle helps define you, and in some cases, makes you who you are. You have to love that shit! 

"Previously..." is basically recapping what happened on the last season of "The Music Industry", and what awaits us on the next one. It seemed that music was doomed, but just based on the talent coming out of the local scene, it looks like it's getting a phoenix down to the face. This track is also a shout out to all the local bands and groups that I grew playing with, listening to, or play with and listen to now. I'll try to get links to their music and post them soon. Stay tuned for the next Monthly Quarterly!


Lyrics

Previously…On the last season of the music industry:

The rise of pop music that sold started to crush originality.

Lyrical nuance was drowning, as was song complexity, against the torrents of cliché lyrics, played over the same drumbeats.

Not to mention the torrents that let people get it all for free. The birth of the mp3: a curse to record companies. Paired with online distribution, it marked the death of albums.

People will love a song, but end up only buying that one.

They went from selling concepts, to selling singles. Selling an idea, to selling songs good for commercial jingles.

What happened to the passion? What happened to the feeling? Singing about getting fucked up is only so appealing.

And young musicians see that that’s what sells, so with every brand new artist we get swagger-jackers that don’t do as well.  

Though it didn’t matter to the music industry, until they started losing profits ‘cause they don’t believe.

‘Cause previously, they had a model that worked.

And previously, no one thought that it could get any worse.

But previously I started working, and previously I just got done.

Previously the Monthly quarterly just started its run.

And previously it seemed that music was doomed, ‘cause previously every great new artist was simply exhumed.

But previously I realized that a change is coming soon.

So stay tuned.

The situation seems dismal; it’s always darkest before the dawn, and it’s that same darkness in which the Author was born.

Along with Blackbird Productions, I’ll start hip-hop’s reconstruction. Hell, every genre with all these dope artists from near the Hudson.

So C-4 yourself, with A. Webb, Crills, Googie, and Gion Ra. Take a seat at the Old Table at the Hot Club of Shangri-La.

Find yourself in a cave, crickets songs reverberating, or in a random motel with a 6 out of 6 rating

Genuinely imitating no one and these somebody’s; familiar but fresh, a breath of originality.

The road might be rocky, but regardless we’ll keep on pressing, with Kensho and Bingus Jones, there’s no need to be stressing.

We’ve got sisters that are wolves, and the travelers are brothers of ours.

Practice so damn much, you can call us Mr. Hours.

Not to mention Miss Danger, a contradiction so hectic.

And last but far from least, the beat smith known as Dialectic.