I am a Berkleemusic student who has two Specailist Diploma's in Guitar and Studio Production. I am also an ASCAP member since 2004. I record and write all this music in my house on my own. I play the guitar (acoustic & electric), bass, piano (piano, rhodes, wurli, clav, organ, synth), harmonica, xylophone, cello, and a ton of aux percussion. I play in a touring band out of Chicago called The Skies We Built, but on the side I do all of this. I am always recording music and writing new material. I try to not stick to one genre and challenge myself. I really want to get into writing music for film/t.v. I feel like my music would fit a ton of different moods and dynamics. Please give some songs a listen and tell me what you think. Hope all is well.
-mike.
The Skies We Built
One of the best and hardest working bands out there. These guys write some of the most unique and amazing music to date. Their live show is almost life changing and will make them unforgetable. Check out their tour dates. They don't stop, and refuse to stop until they are heard and win the hearts of everyone. Music has lost it's voice, but The Skies We Built will bring music back to the way it was. Their music speaks for itself. Given the right chance this band could easily change the world and open up eyes. This band has the ability to be timeless and will with or without help. Please check them out.
www.theskieswebuilt.com
www.myspace.com/theskieswebuilt
www.purevolume.com/theskieswebuilt
Mike Brown
Indeed the product of much laughter and exact precision, The Great Child of the West, is also indeed a wanderer of the world, near and far. Born in the backseat of a Chevy by a woman without a father, and left in a paper bag on the side Interstate 8 near the border, his mother hoped for a life more full of love than one she could have offered her child. Muriel, his mother had only risen to a nervous age of sixteen by the time of birth. When she left him, she left him with only four words. “You will be great.” As well as these poorly planned words, she left a note to the beneficiaries of this Great Child. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”
The boy was eventually found and loved by a family with out a name, and therefore took no name with him when he left with them to travel high and low over mountain peaks and hill sides and river beds. After he had conquered everything in the world there is to conquer, he regretfully left the family without a name and continued on his search for Greatness.
He was taken in by a group of traveling salesmen, selling books to be bought by the citizens of the west. These salesmen traveled in a Chevy much like that of his mother, Muriel’s. Little did he know, but almost two decades ago, his mother had sold her Chevy to those same salesmen at a bus station near Chicago.
It was while riding in the backseat of the Chevy with the salesmen, somewhere on Interstate 8 near the border that Mike suddenly realized that he had been there before, and he did not want to go back. Immediately The Great Child of the West asked the driver of them all to pull over. As the driver pulled over as requested, The Great Child jumped out and ran almost 10 miles to the nearest town, a town with a grocery store, and plenty of paper bags. Here he sat until a west-bound bus rolled up to the stop with much might and grace. The Great Child of the West, then, confidently boarded the bus and bid this town and this life a final farewell.