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.

75% Of All Statistics Say

Well, March has come charging around the bend with an air of springtime and a feeling of unbelievble lightness. Carefree and stumbling. It seems it has been so long since I posted in this journal, but my life has been one big topsy-turvy ride for the last couple of weeks: Topper Revue, Alex being here, touring, Festival, starting my senior project, etc. It has become more and more evident every passing day that the end is near; the end of my high school career is just behind the next corner. In a couple of months, I will reach the finish just to find myself at another starting line. What a letdown.

It's like running and running and running...and just never getting anywhere. Things have been chaotic; I haven't been able to look around me and notice that I've been running in circles. I've been too focused on holding in just another breath to take another step without collapsing in defeat. I'm scared and unbearably excited.

A lot of the time I don't know what to do with myself even though I know I have so much that I have to do. A lot of the time I find myself bored and boring - completely and utterly aware that I have no time to waste in apathy. I'm far to busy with a mountain of paperwork - meetings and more meetings - copies of copies - I'm planning the rest of my life in a portfolio. Another piece of paper with a letterhead and fancy signature represents my downfall. Another scrap with a seal of approval marks the day like a calendar. I stare at my future expecting almost just go away. Don't get me wrong; there is nothign I want more than the future. I mean, what able-bodied, red-blooded American teenager doesn't want something other than the boring day-to-day? I'm pining for it; it gets worse every day. Hopefully soon I will wake up and realize...

Where do I begin?

I survived a state wide trip fueled by Panda Express, Suicide Kings, and Alan Sparhawk. I spent a lonely four days in Portales, gathering dust and putting the final pieces of my Olions' memories on the mantle to admire forever. I've spent what seems like years perfecting defeat, only to find that the formula must change. I've spent select hours of spectacular clarity with my like mind; it is so close to perfection to see her and spend time with her. Laughing has become a language. From here on in, things can only get better. More murder. More love.