Jordan Daniel

Whether Jordan is writing acoustically under moniker Borderline Angelic, scratching out club beats with experimental project Electric Dreams Fantasy Boy, exploring 8-bit sounds and field recording with the electronic Pareidolia, or even playing homage to David Byrne and early ska in Captain Sizzle At The CBGB - the founder of Sudden Epidemic and the "voice" of Jane Lane plays music wherever he goes.

When not dancing the tango with lady Music herself, Jordan enjoys croquet, Regina Spektor, cooking, The Dark Knight, Magic: The Gathering, composition notebooks, horror movies, Terry Gilliam, concerts, quidditch, Blue Indigo, Mel Brooks, Richard Linklater, Photoshop, the internet, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, milk, Stanley Kubrick, new wave, Moog, the color pink, and the number 136.

Love Is Real...Not Just In Novels and Movies...

Well, this week has been mixed. I've been happy, and sad. Putting it as black and white as that. I've been happy that I've been able to spend a lot more time with my friends - especially Alex D. and Rachel - as well as starting to spend some time with Irina and such. Yesterday, myself, JP, Andrew, and Rachel recorded "Psycho Killer" (for once and all) and it was great. We also recorded Andrew's "M" and "The Reaper Should Fear Us" (which, by the way, is random shit). It was great fun, and I think just all of us being around each other was even better than the actual process. I've been very happy. But I've been sad as well...sad with missing Madeline. I get to see her tommorrow, and then practice for Topper Revue on Sunday. It's been a mix week, let's put it that way. I don't know how else to put it.

Battle Of The Bands has officially turned into a popularity contest, so fuck it. We're still going to do it, but it's pretty fucking lame now that a band's following of minions is what'll win the battle. Since I think all of us know Laconic isn't going to win, I really want Left Of Center to win. It's so fucking awesome - most hardcore music to come out of Los Alamos since...ever. I just remastered the EP for them, and it's sounding decently good. Everyone should buy a copy! If you want one, talk to me and I'll tell you when I get some copies to sell. Well, anyway, on the Laconic scene - we just finished two new songs called "Lackluster" and "For The Ferryman". We'll probably be recording a 5-song demo/EP to sell at BOTB, so everyone who actually cares should come and support us so we can get some better equipment. The Marshall amp I want (not even the half-stack...dream on) is around nine-hundred dollars. That's one hell of a lot of EPs to sell.

Well, have fun kids.

There Is No Beginning To The Story (Self-Portrait)

Alex and I wrote this short story during Geometry today. Have a looksee and comment (if the comments are working...)

The stone is always so cold when my barefeet hit the floor...but her embrace was always there to warm them. She rolled over quietly, still sleeping. Her arm draped over the pillow with divine grace. I hadn't done anything to deserve her...she was just there...shaping me as a person, watching over me, and making the waking hours tolerable. I rubbed my eyes, and thought silently of her voice, of it's sing song tone, while watching her chest move in and out - amazed by a beauty I could barely understand.

Once again it came to me, through all the terror, to take me back to that same moment simply seven years before. The thoughts flashed blindingly before me...dancing in my eyelids...forming clouds of confusion...and plaing clearly like a home video...questioning had this happened? How could someone be the same after the bleach of time was through? This messenger for love eternal dozed on through the morning, and I would wait all morning just to see the light ill her empty eyes once again...I would wait. Could I wait, I didn't know. I didn't know anymore.

What was I waiting for? I loved her, but I knew this was forbidden. I knew that I had wronged. Rain started tapping on the windows, and I looked up from my position on the floor. With the rain came the urge to clasp her to me...but how could I? How could I even think of tocuhing her again until she came to understand the meaning of the night before...the night...had I wronged her? I had loved her...I swear I had. I had so carefully pulled her close to me, blind without reason, and kissed those perfect lips which had called for me so innocently for years. I held her so close - to feel the beating of her heart, and to assure me of her love...her undying love.

I'm just glad she lived her she wouldn't see mine. So she couldn't see this uncertainty brewing thick in my delusioned soul. The worry of love...true love? Some love...that overwhelms me and brings these cold hard fears that shatter like the rain on the floor. This hopeloss drains me, and brings me closer to this decided end. Panics ran through me as I began to search for a way out, moving like a rat on a sinking ship. If I could just be gone before the angel woke and felt the contamination I had left on her...If I could just be gone. I stumbled blindly to the rain covered balcony...crying for escape. This railing held nothing...and I can prove...for once and all...

That I can't fly like her.

"Love's just an excuse to get hurt...and to hurt. Do you hurt? I do, I do, so hurt me."

Which One Of Us Would Be The Foolish One?

I really enjoy my existence...and not for any particular reason that stands out above the rest of the human race...I mean, nothing special happened to me. I can think something did, and be damn proud of it...but I can just as easily admit that I am another simple soul. An angsty teenager trapped in a small town, surrounded by expectation and an overuling conformity that envelops another poor soul a day. It sounds too much like a Simple Plan song to be comfortable. I mean, I like this town. I like other towns. I have no problem with living here, or getting out of here. I mean, I'm here, and there isn't really anything I can do about it. Why not make the best of it? Simple beauty...It's the epitome of my enjoyment of life. I mean, tommorrow - I'll make a few phone calls. Spend some time with my girl, throw back a couple of laughs, melt into inumerous kisses...each one sweeter than the last. I'll practice some run-down songs on some run-down equipment with Laconic...make some obscene comments...and for what? For no purpose but to enjoy. I think that people either appreciate nothing...or only the future that they can so imagine so tangible in front of them. You're missing out on every second.

People don't even make the effort anymore. There too worried for their super-size fries...their haircut...their clothing. Their too focused on their deadlines...their lunchtimes...their enemies and never their friends. They fret so much for the homework...the grades...the relationships...the end. I don't know where people think they're going, but I hope they soon realize they'll never get there if they keep trying so hard. I've never met anyone who will blatantly tell me, when I ask, that they've had a wonderful day, or a wonderful past few weeks. People are too focused on the problems and the mistakes. It's like everyone is worried that they're being filmed, recorded, something...worried to impress. Everyone is too worried about dying. If you're so worried about dying, then why waste your living? I don't know how to put it any other way than people are TOO WORRIED. "So if you open your eyes...oh, what a sweet discovery...there is hope...there is joy...there is acceptance..."

I'd love to make you all smile. No matter how hard I'd have to try, I'd love to make you all smile and mean it. I'd love to spend a day with every single person who's ever read this...To spend a day. Why not? I mean what do you have to lose. I still want to have a crab dinner with Chris. I want to go to CBGB with Andrew. I want to go to another concert with Samantha. I want to go to Paris with Madeline. I want to have a therapy session with Melissa. I want to ride bikes with Jeff. I want to sing another song with Ian. I want another chance in everything I've ever appreciated. Just to appreciate it even more. Make it worth something. I want to play shows and have people listen...I want to release a message...a streetside martyr...I want for them to really listen. I want Melissa to hear what I'm trying to say...I want Madeline to smile at my love songs...I want Meg to know true meaning...I want to make everyone else happy. I don't really have to worry about myself anymore, I think I'm there. I think I'm there.

Happy 2003.

Happy New Year, if that means anything. I don't think a new year should be celebrated. Every December 31st to January 1st of the next year should be a celebration of the last year...of everything that has happened. How are we supposed to know if the new year is going to be happy? Or well lived? Or lived at all? How do we know? So I say Happy 2003. I hope you had a wonderful time. So what will 2004 bring? Whatever you want it to my friend. All I can say is that you should probably let yourself have a day in front of a fire this winter, eating your favorite food and drinking your favorite alcholic beverage - if that is the case. You should probably soak in all the Bright Eyes' you can handle. And you should live.

And if you don't appreciate the chance for another year in your life just yet, go listen to "Padraic My Prince". That'll make you think.