David Bronson

Sometimes the constant harping on death seems, while valid, also maybe not entirely accurate (and therefore potentially wasteful and unfortunate). I wonder if it occurs to any or many as much as it does to me that, just as we’re in a nonstop cycle of dying, we’re simultaneously in the same unending cycle of living?

I’ve heard it boiled down numerous times that the only real fear is the fear of death, and that this is actually the root cause of all anxieties. This makes sense to me in some ways and in others not really.

As a logic problem it seems to work. That is, if there were no death, why would we logically worry about anything? Although once this apparency (apparence? appearance?) is moved past, it is easily seen how no death, i.e. no time limit, would become horribly, even horrifically oppressive. Maybe it just seems like that to me – when I actually try to picture what it would be like to reach the age of 200, 1,000, 1,000,000 and finally never-ending years old (this is all taking for granted, of course, that the issue of physical & mental deterioration could be overcome, which I know of more than a few very intelligent people who think this is inevitable), it really doesn’t seem like it would be that fun.

How long would it take before our accepted dynamics of the parent/child relationship completely deteriorate? Or those of a married couple. Of course I’m well aware that many would maintain these accepted dynamics are constantly shifting and un-becoming even now, in our version of existence, i.e. the finite kind.

But I don’t know how exciting it would be to outgrow everything. Would all communication stop? Would all attempts at anything, for that matter, cease completely, as we all turn into discrete universes unto ourselves?

Or would things end up remaining much as they are now, a ceaseless attempt at moving forward, only on an infinitely longer scale?

I was invited to submit a story of the album to this wonderful life & growth website.

Read the article here

We ask a lot of those we love
Sometimes we need to
There are moments (we all know this)
that are so jammed up, so knotted, tense, hell
that the only choice is to lean on someone else or break open
But sometimes the leaning shows itself in another form than you would think,
indirectly

It seems to me that there is very rarely, if ever, a one-to-one, tit-for-tat kind of
correspondence in terms of the exchange of energy
(even though this is what most of us, hopefully, strive for – no one likes to be in debt, for example, and it’s a kind of sickness or weakness to enjoy having others indebted to you)
So the rebound always gets hurt
the secretary gets yelled at for the boss’s oversight
they shoot the messenger, etc. etc.

But sometimes it’s our duty as a spouse, a friend, a parent, a sibling, a teammate or partner
to absorb it
And we do (to let another vent, to stem the flow of vitriol, possibly even out of self-preservation),
and the one who keeps it in gets angry
and it’s easy, in calmer moments, to say to yourself
“well, they have it much worse than I do,
are hurting more than I am, and for longer and more deeply”
and this may very well be true
But it all comes out somewhere, in some way

And always, one of the hardest things to absorb is the fact that you can’t take away someone else’s pain

I want this I want that
I want to stay at the nicer hotel
I want the good food
I want to never need to worry
never even think about it
and I’m the kind of person who can get there from time to time
I’ve done it, been completely free
free and easy
And I want that
I want all of it
Why the hell wouldn’t I?
I want to enjoy my life
I want only to enjoy my life
Why would you even talk about anything else?
(I know why)
But then, I’m forced to think just a little deeper
just below the surface of things
which is what we live on top of
In our face every damn day
But just below
the real place of existence
Where I know I’ve chosen well
maybe the best
Not compared to others, but compared to what I could have chosen
And I really do hope that
down there
everyone has that
meaning

On this train again.
But I don’t dread it, not at all
Often times I’m on here during the morning rush hour
Just as often not
I think my life is a very reasonable one,
meaning I don’t find it painfully miserable or absurd,
or meaningless
the way many lives seem to me.
But then, I’m not in them

I’m gonna get out everything I can
I’ve given myself a limit
A very specified boundary
within which I will do everything I possibly can
to try and get you to feel
me
I’ll have almost no way of knowing
if I am successful
Except
if I like it
This has become the story of my life
A young boy across from me has announced
that we’re here

Man, was I thrilled to wake up to this review of Story in my inbox.

Taken By Sound is a great music blog written by an honest, die-hard music lover.

“..one of the most unexpected musical gems that I’ve managed to stumble across this year.. The debut album from New York songwriter David Bronson, Story.”

Read the full review

I’m trying to remember the feeling. It was so clear and it was only a few hours ago, but it might as well be a lifetime ago with everything that’s happened in between. Not that any of it was so monumental or particularly out of the ordinary, but the feeling is completely different.

I was just coming out of some kind of mental-emotional cocoon after a few solid days of being entrenched – wait, it’s starting to come back now – and it seems logical to me that a lot of it had to do with the fact that I haven’t gotten more than 3 hours of sleep for more than a few day’s at this point. 
So anyway, on the train this morning I decided to crack a new Bukowski book of short pieces, to kind of treat myself, take it easy. And man did it do the trick.

Within the first page of the first piece I was struck – no, a much better word would be caressed, by this unbelievably comforting feeling. Of connection, truly. I mean serious inhabitance, or, not sure how to convey this accurately, but it was a feeling like I was perfectly situated within a real state of human mutuality, a togetherness of some kind, of being here, safe and alive with all of the other living humans, but it wasn’t heavy at all. It was completely easy, natural, completely comfortable. (I laughed to myself when it occurred to me that the short story I was reading was called ‘Loneliness’). The only feeling I can compare it to was a memory I have of being about 7 or 8, having just come home from a trip to the comic book store with my father and brothers on a Saturday afternoon in the spring or summer, and not having anything to do for the next 2 days (I guess it couldn’t have been summer) but relax in my comfortable room, on my bed, with my bunch of new comics. Utter lack of stress, the opposite of anxiety. It was like coming home in the best possible way.

And then it became addressed in my own mind, this feeling I had been experiencing, and I thought about it, and it was over. I won’t tell you the thought that this just about perfect feeling was momentarily replaced with, it’s too depressing. But thankfully that didn’t last for more than a few seconds. And then things were just normal.

“David Bronson is a rocking out swinging grunge fest. It reminds me of all that is great from 70’s psychedelic rock condensed into 4 minute chunks of 90’s grunge tinged rock bands. How could you possibly go wrong with that? I may be freaking out. This is the single “Times” and sets you up for the fantasticalness that is David Bronson.”

GO TO THE VIDEO

I love it! Thank you, Higher Plain Music!

One year ago tonight, my amazing band The Long Lost and I played the Parkside Lounge, my first gig back from a long live performance hiatus. I wrote down some of my thoughts about the night..

Thoughts on the Parkside

9.09.11
The first gig back. There were many ideas, feelings, expectations, etc. leading up to the Parkside, but mainly I hoped to remain as relaxed as humanly possible so as to have as good a time (show) as humanly possible.

Overall, I’d say it ended up being just about halfway between the best and worst I could have imagined (these are quite extreme on both ends), with a slight but definite leaning towards better. This description, though, would not include the very few, but undeniable, fleeting moments of elation/surrender that took place, which definitely throw the experience as a whole fully over onto the ‘better’ part of the spectrum. (Maybe not surprisingly, this characterization seems to jibe pretty accurately with my experience of life in general).
(editor’s note – I was being dramatic. I love my life.)

As much as anything else, the night was defined by a room filled with close friends, family, and loved ones, both offstage and on. As Jordy said to me after the gig, “I knew that a lot of your people would come out,” and I’m heavily thankful, gratified, and warmed that they were all there for /with me and us. I think that cushion of good feeling was what allowed the band and I to navigate through a virgin set list despite the various minor or major pitfalls (technical, psychological, emotional, equipmental, etc.) that would probably accompany any first gig back after so long, but that were nevertheless thankfully dealt with and passed by in a manner appropriate to their deserving, i.e. not too much.

9.20.11
Listening back to the recording, I hear now what actually went down. Very happy that it sounds significantly better than I thought it would, and significantly better than it sounded from the stage (though still not nearly enough bass), just generally way too fast – by-product of nerves and excitement – Robbie warned me not to do this at the last rehearsal. You were right, man! Next time

photograph by Liz White