Stone Cold Sober

This song was inspired by The Kinks, The National, The Smiths, and the following verses:

"For how will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?
 Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?"
- Mark 8:36-37

"For they that sleep sleep in the night, and they that are drunk are drunken in the night.
 But let us, who are of the day, be sober."
- 1 Thessalonians 5:5-8

STONE COLD SOBER

My hands are stained with ink
From all the words I've written down for her
To hear, it isn't fair
The world don't care for men like me

I took my pen and the poison
Walked the streets of her strange town
To realize it's the same, just rearranged
The world is changing
But not for men like me

I never believed in love or luck
I guess that's why the hinges come unstuck

It's like I'm drunk while she's stone cold sober
She sees the world for what it is and I'm just seeing posters

My spirits don't lift as much as the bottle in my hands
I understand it makes the plans for men like me

I took my sadness to the bar, not her.
To find the whiskey tastes like escape,
The colors fade
The world's not waiting for men like me

It's like I'm drunk while she's stone cold sober
She sees the world for what it is and I'm just seeing posters
I've been left behind more times than I could care
I don't hold anything dear

Let's bring back rock and roll
I'll drink to that, though it won't make it so
Music, girls and alcohol won't make me whole
Can't save my soul

It's like I'm drunk while she's stone cold sober
She sees the world for what it is and I'm just seeing posters
I've been left behind more times than I could care
I don't hold anything dear but you

(c) copyright Jordan Gowan/ The Falling Movement Music 2013

To Long, My Dear Friends....

Man it's been AGES since I've blogged!

I guess it's been to long, as I've had all these pretty cool ideas for posts floating up in the interesting space of my brain. Which is dumb since I've been really, really busy lately. And for once that's not to much of an overstatement: I had 3 assignments due last week and a last-minute scramble to finish an online test yesterday which resulted in ANOTHER late night for me (though to be honest that was mostly from all the pranking being done in the flat haha). Oh how I've missed the joys of university.

So that kind of explains the reason why I've been absent from here in the last few weeks. Why there hasn't been anything circulating on your favourite blog (or what will hopefully soon become your favourite blog!).

Shameless self-promotion over, there's actually a few things going on here which I have in the making which are really cool! I'm getting pretty excited about the fact that it's almost the holidays cause it means I'll FINALLY have some extra time to write up some of this stuff. There's a couple of sweet articles-in-the-making I'm planning on music, a running series I'm planning on faith, a few interesting commentaries, and hopefully I'll even get round to posting some more music on my Youtube account.

So yeah this is basically a real quick post in my half hour of freedom to say that I'm still alive and kicking, and to hang around because there's going to be some sweet writing on here anytime soon!

Catch you on the flipside,

Jordan

Working Man

Originally the title of a rather annoying song by Newworldson (who happen to have one of the most annoying band names out), the title has been redeemed and superbly so by Imagine Dragons. This would have to be one of my favorite songs out at the moment! This band is just too darn good!

My life was pretty much complete when I discovered that to my surprise Imagine Dragons had released a lot more songs on their extended editions of Night Visions than the standard 11-track album I had. Even though for an 11-track the percentage of awesome music on there is incredibly high! So it was to Youtube for me where I spent the next hour and a half in complete contentment. Then I remembered I had 3 assignments to write and that brought me down to earth pretty quick.

So far this weekend has involved me working pretty much to the death on these three stupid essays. Well maybe not that hard. Actually more like not hard enough. But the amount of effort I've gone into reading up, thinking and worrying about them has been almost equal or probably more so than the amount of actual writing I've done. So all up I feel like I've invested a lot of time into them.

And not going to lie, it's been wearing me down.

It's not that I can't write, it's just that at the moment I lack the motivation to. Every step I take I keep asking myself the same old question. Why am I doing this again?! Do I really want another three years of study? Do I even want to be a journalist? Heck I'm not even sure if I'll get a job out of this!

I guess the best thing to do in times like this is what I've always done: Keep at it. Just try your best and rely on your determination to see you through. Which I am capable in every single way of doing. It's just that it's getting me down. All this self-doubt, this uncertainty. This constant worry that was not what I expected of this year. That maybe I'm doing something wrong.

Yet everything's worked out for me to be here.
And I can't help but think that this is where I'm meant to be.
I'm just not sure what for, that's all.

This is my heart, it's on the line.

Qualified!

It's official now!

I actually have a Certificate qualification to my name, proof of my completed studies in music.

This is a good day....

Not going to lie, I'm pretty stoked with my achievement. Even though it was only a year, it was a year filled with blood, sweat and tears. Nights where I'd lock myself in my room, and practice and practice my chops. Day after day where I'd cart my not-so-light guitar down the road for the twenty-odd minutes it took to walk to UCOL. Hours spent trawling Youtube and the internet, listening to music that I'd never heard before and googling random facts about bands.

That was the year where I discovered the heaviness of As I Lay Dying, Animals As Leaders and Depths. Where I listened to reggae for the first time and found magic hidden in the simplistic chords and chilled-out beats of The Black Seeds and Bob Marley. The year where my ears, and my fingers finally adjusted to blues and the incredible solos of greats such as BB King, Eric Clapton and Stevie Ray Vaughn. More importantly, it was when I discovered the power and depth to ambient indie music such as Sigur Ros, Bon Iver and (to some extent) Radiohead - all 3 of which would go on to becoming some of my favorite bands.

All of these in their own ways went to helping me really develop in songwriting in huge steps and bounds. From the backwards structure of my rock & roll riff we based our 50's style "Take My Baby Home" to the bluesy twang of a slide which I utilized for my "slow solo" in "Lonely Baby Blues".  Then there was the backbeat strum and entire bridge section I added to our punk rock kiwi original "Running To The Sun" (probably one of my favourite songs to write/play EVER), as well as the little instrumental flourishes I added to give depth and texture to "The Hospital" and "Nothing Stays The Same". Finally there was two of my proudest moments with "We Are Still One" and "Prodigal". Despite never having written (or played for that matter!) reggae or country I somehow managed to write full songs in both genres which actually played off pretty well. In terms of music and songwriting, it was a year well spent.

But perhaps almost equally in terms with musical achievement was the fact that it was one of the best years of my life. I was hanging out with a bunch of super cool people, doing what I loved best (playing music, duh!) and just generally having a good time! It really was awesome in hindsight being surrounded by people who were equally as passionate about music as me - we all got on really well (most of the time) and had quite a few laughs along the way. I made a couple of really, really good friends from my time there, and it was super awesome to catch up & graduate with a few of them today.

In a weird kind of way, I guess I slightly miss it. Playing music every second or third week was actually AWESOME! Not only did I get more comfortable with playing & performing, found out I could branch out a bit more (first year playing anything other than a guitar!), and made a lot of musical friends/contacts but I realised something really important. That this is what I loved doing more than anything in the world. And that no matter the circumstances, it is really important to follow your dreams and do what you love - not what you're good at, not what others tell you to do, not what seems the safest option. No - DO what you LOVE! Even if it's something as obscure and hard to succeed in as music! JUST DO IT! You'll find it drives you in a way that few other things can.

And I think one of the saddest things in the world is when people never get to do this. Some people never get the opportunity - and that's heartbreaking enough. Yet even worse is when you have the chance, but never take it. Or by the time you decide to it's almost too late and you're left wishing you'd gone for it years ago.

So on the eve of my graduation, I offer you this advice. I'm no world-weary musician - in many ways, I still feel like I'm beginning. I don't know it all, but I've been a few places and seen a few things, so don't completely disregard what I say just cos of my upbringing, beliefs, age or writing. This is legit good advice which I believe if applied can change your life in ways you won't believe.

Quite simply put, it falls into that cliched statement: Follow your dreams. Even if they're big. Even if people laugh at you for having them. Even if secretly you think you suck. I've been there, I've felt all these things. But screw what people tell you. If you have a dream, it's worth chasing, it's worth fighting for. And don't ever forget it!!





One (now qualified!) musician, out.

Jords

Names

Rachel.
John.
Hannah.
Matt.
Beka.
Jesus.
Stephen.
Sarah.
Clive.
David.
Bono.

Eleven names. Eleven people. Eleven different viewpoints on life. Some of them I have met. Some of them I know intimately. Others not so well. Some have sadly left this earth. Others are just beginning their journey. Yet this list of people - my friends, my influences, my inspirations, and right there in the middle, my all - could very well mean absolutely nothing to you.

Chances are you're reading this after you just clicked a link which lead you to this page. The first thing you saw (after the rather large title & photograph) was a picture of a signature and then a list of names. All of which (saving the all-important middle one and the well-known end one) you probably didn't recognize. They were just names.
Just names.

But...

To me, these names have faces. They have writings, songs, feelings, thoughts, beliefs, ideals and dreams much more than any odd combination of letters would have. A name is something we give or we receive. And like it or not, it marks us for life. It defines us in a sense, so that people can say our name and then list our achievements. Or possibly our shortcomings. It is the sole title given to any work that we alone produce. We own that. And our name owns us.
So then a name is a lot more than just "a name".

I've been thinking about names a lot lately. Mostly because I'm terrible with them. Yeah sure, I can spout off a list of them like the above one as quick as a wink (although I did have to Google CS Lewis' first name). But those are people I know: either who's writings and work I've followed or someone who I've held a decent conversation with. Or in the case of Jesus far more than all that. But when it comes to remembering names of people I don't routinely talk to or read of, I'm pretty hopeless. In a tutorial I had at Massey in the last week we had to introduce ourselves to the rest of our classmates, however I found that within the space of about five minutes I'd forgotten everyone's name. Then there was the even more embarrassing situation when I was talking to a girl from Lifegroup at church and had to refer to as "this girl" because her name had completely slipped my mind. I don't know what it was, but for some reason names seemed to stick in my memory a lot less than faces and situations.


This week I have been challenged to take people a lot more seriously than I do.
A lot of the time for me it's just small talk and recognition and then I consider I "know" a person. And yet sometimes I can't even remember a simple thing such as their name! Have things really got that bad that I consider a friend to be just someone I know, when really it ought to be far more than just that?

Thanks to various people speaking into my life in different ways I realize that if I ever want to be fully real with people and with myself, I need to be intentional about things. I need to be intentional about my writings, my music, my everyday conversations. Sometimes we just say things for the sake of saying things. I've experienced enough of that lifestyle to know that in the end it is about as meaningless and empty as your going to get.

In a world full of different people with different stories, different hopes, dreams and fears there is so much that could be said. And it seems like such a awful waste to have all this time on the planet, all these words at our disposal and to not be doing anything with them! You never know what a person is going through and what something you might say could mean to them. Words are a lot more powerful than we give them credit, and music is almost more so (kind of what I was hinting at when I wrote the line "Why can't the songs tell our stories...?"). So what are we doing with them?

I know what I want to be doing.
Letting people know that they mean much more to me than I sometimes let on. Whether that's in a blog list, or in some other way I want to take time to say thanks.
Then I want to do make an effort to be intentional about things. About my relationships with people and with God. It's not going to be the easiest thing to do - there are going to be times when I slip up and find myself back in the uncaring stage. But I mean this when I say I firmly believe it is something worth doing.
To start conversations which go a lot further than small talk. To really pray from my heart rather than just my head. Maybe tell friends things I haven't before. Maybe open up a bit and leave space for people to do the same. To start stepping up to the mark in life and in faith instead of letting myself slip behind.

Or even to just remember a name...

Sincerely (for once),

Jordan Andrew Gowan.
Jaguar Falls.
Jord, Jaws, J-dog.

And in everything, Christ's. 

This Day, This Month, This Year...

__, __, ____ .

Depending on whereabouts you are reading this (possible locations: USA, New Zealand, Australia, Alaska, UK, the Moon - ok the last one's slightly unlikely...), the above blank date could be month, date, year or date, month, year. Different systems but with the same meaning of course - except that if you're reading this from the USA/ UK you're most probably a day behind my current timezone (and if you're on the moon, I have no idea where you fit into this time equation). So for now just "pretend" it's the 28th and then we'll all be on the same pagelength. Or bloglength. Whatever.

Actually I kinda wish I was a timezone and a half behind, as I'm finding it a little hard to believe that it's the end of February ALREADY.  I know it's a few days below average length of months, but still, it seems to have gone by so fast.

And it's been an interesting 28 days.

For me in particular, February seemed to be filled with frustration, complications and an awful lot of waiting. Waiting for internet. Waiting for work to finish. Waiting for all my friends to move back to Palmerston so I could finally do something interesting. Waiting for that one song to hit my ears, to hit my mind. Waiting for that one thing to happen.

It seems the longer I wait, the less likely it is anything happens.

Ok, I'm flourishing the melodramatic statements here. I apologize. Things did happen. People came back. I finished work. Started Uni (again). Yet it seems like an awful lot of time wasted on my part just hanging out for something. I kind of wonder if I'm made to be doing this forever. Or as Matt Theissan so eloquently puts it "I feel like I was born/ For devastation and reform."

I really, really wanted to be able to write a different blog at the end of this month. Maybe post up the lyrics to the next "Let It Be" or some equally brilliant song. Or put something up about the changes I've made, or the bands I've joined, or the music I've written. When really all I have in my head and my hands are sketches. Things half-formed. Ideas which are still stuck in the hanger. Songs half written. Riffs that meander to dead ends. At the end of February, is this the best of me, or the worst?

"DISCONNECTED" (progressed little further than lyrics and rough ideas)

It's been over a week and my knees are still weak/ And my voice has been hurting from all the calls I've made. You sit there in your room while I sit here with the blues/ I've got everything to lose when we stay apart 

We're still so disconnected/ I'm not far from ending it now

It's one hell of a week when I'm on the losing streak/ And my ears are still hurting from all the excuses you've made. You sit there in your room, I sit here with the blues/ We've both got nothing to lose yet we still stay apart

"VALENTINES DAY" (mostly just music, as I pretty much dislike all the words I've written beyond these two lines)

Oh you caught me with empty hands and a restless heart that longs for you

Love will you find me? Love will she blind me?


Even though I've been guilty of doing more than a few, these days I just can't seem to force myself to churn out an average song. I guess this is good cos it means I'm getting more technical and in depth with my music, but in some ways it seems like all the sparkle, the magic and the wonder that makes a song a song is somehow missing. Am I doomed to inherit the space between average and brilliant-yet-unknown?

Bring it on March. Maybe if I'm ready for you, I won't have to wait...

The Great Addiction...

I have a confession to make....

I am an addict.

Now before I start getting comment after comment about "don't do drugs" or (even worse) "bro me too I light 'em up all day e'ry day", I should probably make it clear that that's not me. I'm not addicted to drugs or alcohol, even though that would be pretty rock n' roll....

No I'm addicted to something whose talons claw a bit deeper than those mere flights of fancy.

And although this may come as a surprise to many of you, you're probably just as desperate an addict as me.

I am addicted to the Internet.

For the past one and a half months I've been fighting withdrawal symptoms. Suppressing the need to check my Facebook feed every couple of hours. Fighting the urge to check my email to see if I'd been contacted by the various agencies who needed to contact me. Missing people desperately cos I couldn't skype them or even message them. Having a million words to say and not even being able to communicate to the online masses through blogging.

It's not as if I meant to break my addiction by going cold turkey, it's just the way things happened. After taking a hard shot of 2 gigs on my t-stick, like an junkie I surfed the web, bought some music (Ryan Adams) and wrote an epic blog about country music (which unfortunately has now been forever lost to the world).
Then I ran out.

As I was too poor to justify buying another crazily expensive top-up, I thought I'd do the hard yards.
So apart from the very limiting internet on my phone (you couldn't even type an email without it taking 3 hours and a myriad of spelling mistakes which were near impossible to correct!) and the occasional "trip" to Macca's and the Library to utilize the free services, I was internet-less as an animal. Probably more so, given the amount of people's pets you can find on Facebook these days...

Today, in my one of the first lectures I have ever attended in my life, the lecturer made an interesting point - that our ideologies, experiences and views of the world are so, so, SO heavily meditated. We don't even notice it when we take the hit, but it doesn't take us too long to go under and subscribe to a system that sometimes encourages distance more than it does bring people closer together.

I mean we've all done it - messaged your family/ mate when they're sitting right next to you? Skyped your friends when they live a block away? It's cool right? Makes you feel pretty funny and you have a good laugh about it.

But are our physical lines of communication that bad that we have to resort to such desperate technological measures? 

See the thing which makes internet so addictive is that it's convenient. As a Generation Y-er sitting on the edge of Generation Z I know from personal experience that my, that our generation is all about what is comfortable and convenient for us. See, we're all about the individual, as long as that individual is us, not someone else. Yet is this always for the best? I've always found that the times in my life which are the best times are when I have been pushed out of my comfort zone. When things aren't always convenient, we unplug our devices and get down to the business of actually living, outside of the technological cage which we voluntarily make our prison.


I really guess now that I should have used my time wisely to connect with people on a much more personal level instead of pining about not having my latest web fix. It's funny how we notice these things in hindsight.

Still, there has been a few pointers I've picked up on. 
1) You get things done a lot faster if you go there in person.
I would have got so lost today if I hadn't visited Uni in the weekend with one of my very good friends and checked out my classes. And I most probably would have got the awfully long process of getting internet at our flat sorted a lot earlier if I had have been able to visit Slingshot's head office and complain about it there.
2) Worship is actually the best way ever to get some decent R&R in the midst of a difficult situation.
See, while internet is a quick fix, a short dose that never really manages to fully connect or satisfy regardless of what you're doing with it, worship is like a cure-all vitamin tablet that is good for the body, good for the soul and longer-lasting than anything we could find online (yes, even blogging!). There was one evening where I was having the roughest day out: had some family problems, problems sorting out uni stuff, had found out I wasn't getting internet for another week, and to top it all off my flatmate had just told me he was moving out. After a completely exhausting day at work it was the worst dose of bad news to happen. Not going to lie, I was close to tears. Then I picked up my guitar and began singing, and it was like a totally different spirit came on me, and I could see more from God's perspective than mine and couldn't help singing to his glory. It really was the best thing out there.
3) There is nothing better than a real-life conversation.
Although we've had some rough times in the flat already this year, my flatmates are pretty good sorts. And one night we all just ended up sitting in the kitchen talking for 2 hours about life and everything and it was just the best time ever. Real good community, good chat, and we had more than a few laughs. Really when you get down to it, that is one of the saddest things about this internet drug - that it can keep people away from each other because really it is easier to send a facebook message than actually arrange a time to meet up.


See, sometimes this thing called Internet ends up using us up rather than us using it.


While I reflect on all this and am now cautious of not taking my "addiction" too far, I can honestly say that it is good to have internet back. It's good to be back on blogspot.com again, and I hope that YOU'VE found it good that I'm back too. And maybe one day we will actually catch up for real, and we might just talk about this blog and what I was thinking about when I wrote it and what it made you think about when you read it. Then maybe, just maybe social media and the internet might be working for me rather than me working for it....

Blessings,

Jordan

Surrounded By Words....

As I punch in the letters on my keyboard, I am reminded how much words surround me. They fly around my head, they come out from my fingers and they make up a significant portion of all the things that have ever impacted me.

I'm sitting in the city library on a sweltering hot summers day, feeling extremely content with life. There's so much to be thankful for right here - namely the air conditioning, and for the free internet (my modems still on it's way, so desperate times call for the uses of public facilities! Thanks City Council!). So finally, after a good month and a half of near-silence, I finally get to write again.

It's not that I have been absent from the way of the pen. In fact, there has been many things to write about, probably more than ever. My mind is filled to the brim with words, words which are almost overflowing the top of my head and dying to get on paper.
Or webpages.

And yet, in the library, all I can think of is books.

It's kind of self-explanatory. After all, this is a library, the third home of books after a printing press and a bookstore. So really it is no wonder. There's even one sitting on the table in front of me, a particular novel entitled "Dust".

Funny how I came to the library primarily to use the public facilities of free internet and air con, and yet I still can't resist picking up at least one book.

I believe one of my favorite author's, Terry Prachett was correct when he said (to the effect of) "Books are dangerous. That's why the ones at the [Unseen Univsity] library had to be chained down..." It seems a strange idea that mere writings on paper can be considered dangerous. How much harm can a book do? (Unless it's a very voluminous dictionary which someone happened to throw at you).

But stop and think about it.

I can honestly say that, besides conversation/speaking and music, out of all the things in life which have impacted me the most, it would be books. Sure movies, plays, and websites all have their own ways and means of making you think (some better than others). Yet books seem to do something to you. They can twist your insides out, and make you wonder about a particular idea for days, sometimes even weeks. The way they subtly suggest things, or even make you suggest them yourself rather than plainly stating facts, is an area which has always fascinated me.

I guess maybe that's why I want to be a writer.

Here I sit surrounded by words, just trying to add my own to the masses....

One Week Under

This song came to me in parts.
The first hint of it appeared on a warm Sunday afternoon when I was all but ready to punch a hole in the wall.
Instead, I picked up my acoustic and bashed out a chord sequence which, while angry was still surprisingly delicate given the circumstances it was born under...
Unfortunately. I couldn't let "my anger out" even that way because we had visitors and I didn't want to hole myself up in my room with my guitar.
Even though part of me kind of did.
The next day, I thought I might be able to put some words to it, but instead I just went round and round in circles lyrically, pushing out dead-end line after dead end line. In frustration, I basically threw down my guitar in disgust and decided to leave it as a sequence.

So, born and whittled away at with hours pent-up discontentment and discouragement, it was fitting enough that when the words did come, one of the first lines was" I never let my anger out, it stays inside my head."
The rest just flowed from there, and I finally gave it a name today, which was, for sake of a better one, "One Week Under"

ONE WEEK UNDER

I never let my anger out
It stays inside my head.
I clench my fists, my mind resists and orders it to stay.

Today I wonder
Can I take this much?
Signs warn don't test the waters, but I do it anyway.

Is it too much to ask for to have something to keep?
Is it to much to beg for?
An untangled dream for me.

We put our problems on a pedestal
And took a ringside seat.
They're not much to look at but everything's at stake.

Its times like this I think of
What could've been.
People say to not look back, but I do it anyway.

 Dear God I searched the skies today
I'm tired of looking inside.
When you look at me, what do you see?
Am I just another stray?

Its true I search for answers
With more questioning
Some people say to not look up, but I do it anyway.

I ended the year how it began
Playing to no one.
I started the next one on the run
Afraid to face my fears.
I always keep the same old problems
My angered heart would know.
They hunt me down, I know my doubt
Would bury me whole if I lost hope.

 (c) copyright Jordan Gowan 2013.

I have never missed anything so much....

Ok maybe that's a bit of an overstatement...

But still.

I've missed having proper internet.

And I've missed you blogspot.com

So this is my welcome back.... hope you enjoy the posting!