supatopcheckerbunny
just recently i found myself sitting in the studio admidst my musical pandemonium, brooding over dark and unhealthy thoughts.
all through the years i have been sprinkling wondersome tunes across the world and still the four walls of my little studio remain empty of them platinium records they should rightfully be plastered with.
to cheer myself up, i wrote a little note to the supatopcheckerbunny, that ever-helpful little rodent of titanic fame to asked for some advice that could brighten my tortured mind.
a couple of days later, as i was right in the middle of having a good cuppa cawfee at the breakfast table, and was still wearing my pyjamas, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. surprise! a little white rabbit stood in front of me and introduced herself as the supatopcheckerbunny.
"mang, you need a hit record - that's fo sho" she said. and while i was still fiddling with my morgenmantel, she plopped out a tiny guitar from her fluffy fur and started strumming and singing. quickly, i leaped to turn on the revox tapemachine, whilst the fluffy fellow was dancing 'round the microphone singing hysterically, "hey! freaks! listen up, i have a message for you...!".
when i plugged in the little moog to add a freaky lo-fi bassline we both got into a jamming frenzy. in nullkommanix the new song was on tape and later back in the kitchen over a strong pipe of the best homegrown and a carrot, bunny gave me some very useful advice. she said: "you've got to continue making good music, even if it's not paid well. people love you for your music, they just don't wanna to spent too much on it, because they need their stash for designer clothes. just imagine you are karl lagerfeld. he has so much money that he just don't care about it any more. if you'd buy big sunglasses it might help, too".
"thank you supatopckerbunny!", i shouted, while the little critter hopped away to catch the last u-bahn.
all through the years i have been sprinkling wondersome tunes across the world and still the four walls of my little studio remain empty of them platinium records they should rightfully be plastered with.
to cheer myself up, i wrote a little note to the supatopcheckerbunny, that ever-helpful little rodent of titanic fame to asked for some advice that could brighten my tortured mind.
a couple of days later, as i was right in the middle of having a good cuppa cawfee at the breakfast table, and was still wearing my pyjamas, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. surprise! a little white rabbit stood in front of me and introduced herself as the supatopcheckerbunny.
"mang, you need a hit record - that's fo sho" she said. and while i was still fiddling with my morgenmantel, she plopped out a tiny guitar from her fluffy fur and started strumming and singing. quickly, i leaped to turn on the revox tapemachine, whilst the fluffy fellow was dancing 'round the microphone singing hysterically, "hey! freaks! listen up, i have a message for you...!".
when i plugged in the little moog to add a freaky lo-fi bassline we both got into a jamming frenzy. in nullkommanix the new song was on tape and later back in the kitchen over a strong pipe of the best homegrown and a carrot, bunny gave me some very useful advice. she said: "you've got to continue making good music, even if it's not paid well. people love you for your music, they just don't wanna to spent too much on it, because they need their stash for designer clothes. just imagine you are karl lagerfeld. he has so much money that he just don't care about it any more. if you'd buy big sunglasses it might help, too".
"thank you supatopckerbunny!", i shouted, while the little critter hopped away to catch the last u-bahn.
posted by künstler treu at 11:40 AM
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