Normal Is A Schedule
Alt-rock / after-grunge with hazy, cloud-high energy. Loose but heavy. Laid-back tension. Calm on the surface, pressure underneath. No chugging. No muted strumming. Clean electric guitar with open chords, slow arpeggios, and ringing sustain. Slight grit when needed, but never aggressive. Long reverb tails, gentle tremolo, occasional reverse swells. Notes breathe and hang—nothing percussive. Warm, rolling bass that glides and subtly leads the feel. Bass provides motion and mood without driving. Drums are minimal and recessed: soft, laid-back groove, very low-volume kick, brushed or restrained snare, lots of negative space. Drums feel distant, almost lazy, never forward. Male vocal, intimate and grounded. Calm, confident delivery with emotional weight. Close-mic’d, present, slightly dry. Light plate reverb, subtle slap delay for thickness. Sparse doubles only on select lines—no big harmonies. Light trippiness through atmosphere, not effects. Hazy sunlight through clouds. Relaxed dis
Normal Is A Schedule
Alt-rock / after-grunge with hazy, cloud-high energy. Loose but heavy. Laid-back tension. Calm on the surface, pressure underneath. No chugging. No muted strumming. Clean electric guitar with open chords, slow arpeggios, and ringing sustain. Slight grit when needed, but never aggressive. Long reverb tails, gentle tremolo, occasional reverse swells. Notes breathe and hang—nothing percussive. Warm, rolling bass that glides and subtly leads the feel. Bass provides motion and mood without driving. Drums are minimal and recessed: soft, laid-back groove, very low-volume kick, brushed or restrained snare, lots of negative space. Drums feel distant, almost lazy, never forward. Male vocal, intimate and grounded. Calm, confident delivery with emotional weight. Close-mic’d, present, slightly dry. Light plate reverb, subtle slap delay for thickness. Sparse doubles only on select lines—no big harmonies. Light trippiness through atmosphere, not effects. Hazy sunlight through clouds. Relaxed dis
Lyrics
I don’t wake up wanting more
I wake up owing my body
and it starts collecting interest
before my eyes even focus
There’s a version of me
that used to have opinions
now I just have timing
and a list I never wrote down
People ask how I’m doing
and I hear it like a weather report
something I should nod at
while I keep moving toward the only room
where the noise shuts up
It’s not a high
it’s a truce
it’s my skin agreeing to sit still
it’s my bones stopping their tantrum
long enough for me to pass as human
I can feel the day shrink
as soon as I think about quitting
like the sun gets impatient
and everything good turns distant
and everything bad turns organized
I hate how practical I become
I hate how calm I can lie
I hate how my voice sounds like my voice
when it says,
not today, just get through today
I’ve had love, sure
but love expects a person
this thing only expects a routine
and it never asks why
and it never leaves me on read
I don’t tell the story
because the story makes it real
and if it’s real
then it’s mine
and if it’s mine
then I did it
and if I did it
then I have to count the people
I stepped on like stairs
So I keep it small
I keep it mechanical
I keep it inside the minutes
where nobody can accuse me
of being what I am
Sometimes I catch myself
looking at a normal life
like it’s a language I used to speak
and I can almost remember the grammar
right before the shaking starts again
There’s a moment
right before relief
where I swear I can see myself
from above
like a stranger I’m responsible for
and I think:
I don’t want to die
I just want the day to stop narrating me
And then the truce arrives
and I become easy to look at
and everyone thinks I’m better
because I’m quiet
because I’m functioning
But “better” is just a word
for when the panic takes a lunch break
and “normal” is a schedule
I keep renewing
with a signature I don’t recognize