The City in the Sea

I have made a new composition. It is a musical composition. Well, it is not entirely new, for I began in in the long lost days of June 2007, and I finished it on 23 December 2007. Since then I have been slowly completing the grueling (that is, extremely dull) task of transcribing the notes into a printable* format, which I have provided for you, my friends, here today. I would encourage all adept in the esoteric Art of music to attempt its performance, as that would entertain the megalomaniac** in me. For those not adept in the esoteric Art of music, I encourage a concentrated focus on the page. This will achieve nothing by itself, but for the sake of all the readership, I shall speak of the contents of these pages.

One of the first notable qualities of the music is its program, as the musicologist might say, the poem by Poe. It was selected before composition began in June. It should be read on the grounds that it is excellent, and then the music may be applied to it, an unfailingly a good time, at least for me. Ordinarily, composers incorporate their texts to be sung, but I did not do this. I have never cared much for song, at least relative the music itself. Those who argue for the primacy of text make me terribly ill, and I assure these people that they must repent of such foolishness or face dire consequences. These dire consequences, of course, are incipience and degradation of the text***, thereby defeating the original purpose of the Art. That is enough digression, though. My aim was to create an atmosphere, not set a text. Now onward!

Next the even minimally competent pianist will notice that the performer is expected to play three staves at once. I, the Evil Composer, giggle, for I know that performers hate this sort of thing. Actually, my pen and paper original used only two staves, but all the notes did not fit neatly on two, so I had to use three. I would have preferred two, though. It takes less paper and less ink. Also, it is not as if I wish to have trouble reading it. I assure the potential performer, it is all playable. I have played most of it myself. In the end, though, it looks interesting, so there is a grand victory.

Also, some might notice the way in which I chose to sign the music: J I G. These, of course, are my initials****, and they represent a great debate currently raging within me: shall I initial things J I G or JG? This is a difficult question. My current leaning holds with J I G because it is groovy. JG is still swell, though. We shall see.

There we have The City in the Sea, which I have decided to dedicate to Friendship. By extension, it is dedicated to mine excellent good friends. The Music of the Future be with you always, even unto the end of the age. For our next installment, I will allow you, my friends, to see the original draft, which I believe is pleasing to look upon.

Until then, I wish you well, and even after that also.

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*Please note that these pages should print cleanly and clearly to a standard printer page. Substandard pages, however, will not do.

**The megalomaniac inside me is not a good person. Do not entertain him too much.

***Also hellfire.

****They do not stand for Jedediah Ignatius Grumblesnout.