detox.

progress.

we got into a rhythm pretty quickly.

i concentrated on pairing and splicing together samples and effects, playing them every so often once i felt that they were full enough to qualify as a decent beat. marshall became partially lost in rifling through the recesses of his lyrics, tearing out some pages from his notebook and grouping them with others. if something he heard matched the vibe of what he was reading at the moment, he'd let me know.

currently, i was fixated on a variation of ominous and minor key chords. vaguely, they reminded me of the sound of his last album, but when i inserted some jolting keyboards and a backing of eerie, off-kilter instrumentation, it provoked a new feeling altogether. it seemed fitting for an introduction, so i fused it into a transition that led to a pounding beat laced with drums and even more heaving and intimidating chords. it may have been a shot in the dark, but i played it.

he froze.

"ace," he said quietly.

"hm?" i tilted my head slightly.

"this is..it could work for this," he muttered, pointing insistently at a page he was holding that was titled with dark, heavy handwriting. cold wind blows.

i smirked. "we'll keep it, then," i mumbled.

eventually, we'd manage to agree upon the instrumentals for the very same songs in the book that had initally caught my eye. talkin' to myself, which we decided to stylize as talkin' 2 myself, was accompanied by a rolling loop of rambling electric guitar, some shiny synth, and rapid drums with a periodic clash of cymbals. going through changes opened with a few long notes of smooth violin, then fell into a beat reminiscent of the "boom-pap" sound of the 90s, mellowed out with the strumming of acoustic guitar. finding samples for the hooks of both was nothing difficult. almost famous was more..digital, if you will. grading, intense. he clenched a fist and shook it with satisfaction as he listened to the unsettling opening monologue i added.

"i can almost taste it...this shit makes no sense to me...what does it all mean?"

he sighed, appearing taken aback. "i dunno how you can tell what's in my fuckin' head, but this.." he paused, throwing his hands up. "..i couldn't ask for nothin' better."

i perked up. "really?"

my breath hitched when his piercing eyes met mine.

"really."