Unity Anthem

Walk together, rock together

Hey! What song always makes you sing along?

A Wayne’s World Bohemian Rhapsody moment in one way or another. There is a special feeling that comes with the solidarity of no longer worrying about your individual voice.

Something special about that loss of self in music. When the harmony of the many drowns out the melody of the one.

In fact, that is a salient critique of the American National Anthem. At least, it’s an interesting one I’ve heard.

While many countries opt for something that is easily echoed by a drunken mob — incoherent cacophony — the good old US of A chose one that demands virtuosity.

A song that isn’t meant to be shouted. A song that, for most, is only meant to be witnessed.

The broader implications of what that may or may not mirror matter less than the fact that both are a source of pride to their people.

Crimson Delirium

I kept these thoughts in mind when writing lyrics for Fractura, the band led by Avelven Selk in Significatorius.

Going mad from it all
Everything, all, all, all of it

Avelven isn’t a musical revolutionary.

He’s a master of the rock anthem — the kind of artist who writes songs designed for stadiums, where thousands of people scream the words back at him.

And so, I set a rule for myself.

If I ever hesitated, that meant I needed to lean into stereotypes and cheesiness. Avelven is someone who would always make the obvious choice — because he knows what sells.

Bombs Away!

But if you know me — even just vaguely with the most exaggerated definition of “know” — then you’re probably laughing at my attempt to appear normal and mainstream.

My personal taste often leans much further into the bizarre and esoteric, maybe even outright ugly.

Even when I try, I gravitate toward raw emotion over commercial appeal.

And so it should come as no surprise that that aspect of songwriting became narratively important, adding depth to both Avelven and Palena.

It was also motivational for me. Giving me a chance to let loose the dogs of war and just write with the intensity burning in my soul.

Shut up!

Don’t tell me what I can’t do!
Don’t tell me what I can’t do!
Don’t tell me what I can’t do!
Don’t tell me what I can’t do!

In a few words, I value imperfection over polish, emotion over precision. If that means stick figures and off-beat guitars, so be it.

At the end of the day, my greatest battle is with inevitable nihilism and not with practiced virtuosity.

Who Knows Who’s Right?

There’s something essential about shared experiences.

Unity built from a collective consciousness — even if it’s subtle and indirect.

Building more out of such a fragile connection requires the willingness to ask a question.

And yet the unfortunate reality of every day is how we assume so much about each other.

How often we neglect to ask even the easiest of questions.

For me, at least, there’s a paralyzing fear behind inaction — inexplicable hesitation.

The idea that some will see my act of ignorance as an affront in and of itself. But we must never forget that there is no growth without that same ignorant first step.

Somewhere along the way, too many have forgotten that. Myself included.

If you’re looking for my point in all of this, I’ll say music is a show of skill, a display of defiance, and a sign of solidarity.

It is a way to be understood — To be heard.

And that search for meaning is what Significatorius is about.

Until next time.

—JMB