Imagine, you have a nice basket. You carry food in it. But then it starts telling you what food to get (using “Basket Rules”).read more
My love goes out to people who are not talking trash, pointing fingers, blaming friends who voted differently or going super macho on them, who are not talking with contempt about family members, who are trying to understand, love, and relate. I don’t care who you voted for.read more
We are back to the Middle Ages where creative professionals–um, troubadours–were whores and marginalized individuals. Except now, between the troubadour and the generous peasants, there is a clever middleman who makes money on bulk.read more
Music, my love…
The other day, I was thinking to myself: Does anybody actually care about truth, culture or dignity?
So, I figured something out… so I say it out loud (the rhyme just showed up…hooray). But does it actually help anybody?
And for the thousandth time, I decided, “fuck it… I am not going to waste my breath.”
And then…read more
When I look around hoping to see freedom, I see survival and maybe content. It bothers me because it screams of emotional poverty. And I know it’s conditioned because everybody is born with bright eyes.read more
The 21st century America is a very strange place. Beautiful, bountiful, but strange. It tells me, “I want your music in my catalogue as long as you agree that it’s not special, and I want your booty in my catalogue as if it’s not special, either”. It wants me to line up and lick the conveyor. It wants me to play ordinary. It wants me to march with the crowd and participate in the global sexual act that has been stripped of all magic. The underlying emotion is of disrespect.
What do I say? First, I have no words. Then I cry. I don’t like any of it. It’s counter-everything. It defeats my humanity, my dignity, and my sense of self. It’s a man (and woman) eating machine (I stole it from Grace Jones).read more
Tessa is a strongly opinionated singer and musician living in New York. Her background is in classical piano, linguistics, computers, ethnomusicology, and Tibetan studies. She fronts Tessa Makes Love.
Robots are on her shit list, and this blog is about not taking shit from the machine.