New albums

It’s been a while, who gives a shit.

January 10th, 2024 - Hot Dog Water Music

Hot Dog Water Music

February 29th, 2024 - Just Average

Just Average

I know this is formatted like shit. It’s fine.

Listen wherever you listen to music.

If you buy them here: Pat Lynch - Bandcamp you’ll get the liner notes and some demos. It’ll explain things more. If not, it’s fine.

More new music

I put a record out last June, it was pretty good, the first proper record in nearly 5 years. I find I’ve been in a heavy music phase recently, or I should say in completing the process in a timely manner.

Jan. 5th I’ll be putting out my new record, “Hot Dog Water Music”

You can find all singles released on Friday’s leading up to the 5th anywhere you stream music, and “I Know, I Know” is out now wherever you get music.

New music

New Single - Hate in my Heart - out now

New album - out June 23rd, 2023

Hate in my Heart

Music - going back in time

I’ve been sifting through the growing number of hard drives I’ve accumulated over the last 10+ years and finding all the alleys and nooks I’ve saved and stored and stashed music files in. Stuff I thought I’d lost to time or a dead drive I’m finding, stuff I hadn’t listened to in six, seven, eight years and sometimes more. I’m going to put out a new record in the next few months and on top of it, I’ll release a few demo compilations for fun. Why not? When I’m dead, the chances of someone finding it are nil unless it’s online somewhere.

The thing I didn’t anticipate was reliving a lot of feelings I had at the time. I was having some serious lust, love, crushes, and heartbreaks for the first time in my independent life and I was writing like CRAZY about all of it. It’s incredibly clear at the time my emotions were not in control, but it made for some interesting recordings. Sad songs, hateful songs, funny songs, lots and lots of heartache. Much of it is laid out in a way where it’s all presented in real time, chronologically so I can see my brain shift from new love-type songs, to losing someone, to hateful “fuck you” type songs, all in order; at least in this 1-2 year period between 2016-2017.

Naturally throughout the years I transitioned to how I record and where a dozen times. Phone memos mostly at first, then with a field recorder, then through an interface through microphones. All of which were with different software over the years, different hard drives, different folders, and then later back with the field recorder in my car, back into my PC and so on. Different apartments, cars, locations, relationships, microphones, recording techniques, and so on. It’s quite an undertaking to track it all down. A lot of which was transferred over from other hard drives, but in doing so, the dates of creation are lost. I could always piece the origin date of recording with notebooks, but not always.

I’m not even sure that curating my “legacy” of music (for lack of a better term) with dates and demos are going to be worth it or meaningful in the end, but it’ll keep me busy, surely.

I’ve had this feeling, or thought process that is for a long time now, but I’ve only recently started operating in this mindset over the last few years. The freedom of knowing not many care, and no one’s expecting anything because of it, so just do what you want. In the world of music, there’s this unwritten rule to release singles, EPs, and then albums, curated in a meticulous way. But there are other bands I’ve discovered or have been introduced to over time that openly fly in the face of the “industry standard.” No one cares, and those who will, will. An album a year, why? Put out 3 if you have the material, why not? Put out a random smattering of demos, put out a kid’s songs record, put out an entire album of weirdness, why not? Only in the last few years have I really embraced the mindset and acted on it and just not gave a thought to why or why not. It’s what makes me happy or fulfilled, and I know a slow, small, and possibly growing (or not) number of people who love me for it, and so I’ll make it for them, and myself.

Although to completely contradict myself, I don’t want to release any of these demo compilations until I put out an album of all the new stuff I want to release. Perhaps as an exercise I’ll do it on purpose to release myself from it. I guess my thought process is that I don’t want to convolute my new record, the first in over 4 years, with a bunch of demo releases. Either I do it and not care or get on the ball and get the new stuff finished and out. But I’m still working on the mixes so there’s that. Maybe I’m just a hypocrite of the worst caliber.

Going back to the “archives” has been interesting, weird, embarrassing, and worse more it sometimes has kicked up the dust on old feelings and regrets. Anyone who says they have none are full of shit. They just landed on their feet, and are fine with where they are, which is fine, you can’t always live in the past. But when you’re reintroduced with your past, and decisions you’ve made, it’s not always a pleasant place to revisit in the slightest. It’s also not always a bad thing to put yourself face to face with your past sometimes too, ignoring it ensures you’ll make the same mistakes. And hell, sometimes it’s just fun and melancholic to go back and feel what I was feeling when I was in new waters and territory whether it was musically, relationship, or otherwise.

Anywho, it’s been 4 months since I’ve last written, and felt compelled to today as I went back in time. It’s so strange the more time passes, the farther away the memories get. Yet I have hundreds of these little music files as a marker of time on the tracks of life. I suppose I can’t ever forget now.

Until next time,

- Take care.

Sleep

I remember when we used to get up, and you’d sit in your bouncer, and shake your rattle. I could watch a show, or read, or write something, or get some work done, or anything I wanted. Now you crawl, and need to be stimulated by everything and anything or else. Like some of the people I’ve known. You’re no longer content sitting there while we do as we please with the extra hours; a luxury long gone now.

I sit here typing while I make a feeble attempt at seeing if you’ll sleep, but instead of simply sounding out that you are displeased, you get up, shake things, bang on the floor, scream your head off and ensure nobody within a mile radius is sleeping, right along with you.

It’s not bad that is, to say you’re just growing up. Selfishly I miss those free hours. And selfishly I await the days when you can speak, instead of merely cry at everything. Soon I guess.

You don’t sleep as well as you used to, just like me. Not that it’s any sign of relation, many people don’t sleep well. But you used to, and that’s what I miss.

You’re silent now, I think you’ve given in.

Every Summer

They bitch about the heat and pray for fall to wear their stupid sweaters.

Every fall they pray for Halloween then can’t wait for Christmas.

Every New Year they pray for Spring so they can get out of the cold.

Every spring they pray for summer when they can bathe in salt water and travel.

Shut up and get to doing something.

Hot

I’m Finally making iced coffee. Ice coffee? I’m not sure how it’s written. I'm not even positive I’m making it “correctly,” per official coffee rules. No matter, it tastes delicious either way. I just brew it strong, into a pitcher, let it cool, then stick it in the fridge. An hour or so later it’s cold. Add ice, pour, iced coffee.

It’s summertime now, somehow, snuck up like a cat hunting for a mouse, or my ankle, or the catnip cigar lying on the floor. It’s uttered ad nauseum every day somewhere, sometime thousands over in every stupid town on the planet, but it rings true for me now: Time is moving quicker than it ever has before it seems. I can’t catch up, I can’t lie down and read something without looking at the clock and realizing I’m missing something or have to go to bed or need to stop because I have to do something else. I look up and the week is over, the sun is down, the snow’s long gone and the plants are growing and now I have to be outside a bit to tame the jungle. I look at my watch and it’s time for the next thing on the list. There’s never enough time for what I want I feel. But that’s just it, it’s me, not time. I probably waste a lot of it, spacing out, thinking about something, or doing something that might not mean much for anyone including me in the long run. But that’s how it’s always been, at least for a long time it has. I can’t live in the moment a lot of the time, always thinking about what’s next while never realizing the NOW is what I was thinking about two days prior.

Time is a fickle bitch.