I used to be a self absorbed, self destructive, sleep deprived hungover mess. I wore this emotional coat of arms with arrogant pride screaming sex, drugs and rock and roll at the top of my lungs in an effort to fill the shoes of those who came before me; Billie Holiday, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Sid Vicious, Kurt Cobain… all of them gifted and conflicted, all of them like me… Rockstars.
I have surmised that there are two parts to every human being, your Godself and your Your earthself. Godself is the part of you that is larger than life, creates masterpieces, moves mountains and fills every crease and corner of a room with the sheer raw force of your living, breathing, hungry existence. Your earthself is quiet, thoughtful, sometimes introverted and respectful of things you beyond your understanding. It is both satisfied and content. One cannot exist without the other and throughout the course of our lives we are are all striving to maintain the balance between the two. Continue reading
There is no worse feeling than looking a dear friend in the eye over dinner and knowing that you have to fire them.
There is never a good time. You think ‘Maybe I’ll do it before the main course comes…’ or ‘I’ll definitely do it during dessert and a Jameson.’ During your crisis of conscience, the night rolls on and soon you’re laughing it up about some funny incident that happened earlier and chatting about crushes, lovers and crazy ex’s. You’ve now forgotten why you invited them out in the first place.
The bill arrives and the conversation automatically becomes how much of a tip you should each leave. Then the customary goodnight hugs and ‘call me.’ On the cab ride home, you say ‘I’ll do it tomorrow, tonight wasn’t the right time.’ But, as the sun dawns on another business day and the issues that prompted your decision rare their ugly little heads you realize there is no perfect time to give someone you love the axe. Continue reading
Something profound happened to me the other day. I realized that I was control. It was a powerful epiphany that knocked right me out of my Nike ID’s and flat on my back on NYC concrete.
My single “Miss America” premiered recently and until its debut I was totally and utterly manic. When faced with a major life event I instinctively create scenarios in my head where “Everybody Hates Malene.” To add insult to injury homeloverfriendartistdude wasn’t hitting me back (I think we may have broken up via the Twitter unfollow button but I’m still not sure), my manager left town (for an impromptu, well-deserved vacation) three days before the jump and the anxiety of how I would be received was driving me batty… mix that in with a touch of PMS and voilà; Malene the Manic.
Meanwhile, I’m a walker and, until recently, like most New Yorkers I had no driver’s license (yeah I said it!). In times of manic episodes I pace and mentally traipse through the halls and winding stairwells of my mind talking myself down from the ledge and smiting every crazy thought ninja creeping through my otherwise rational brain. Continue reading
Over the summer i’ve been slowly debuting my new collection of songs…check out “Las Lobas” performed at Brooklyn Bowl a few months back. Big hugs to Game Rebellion.
Hey guys! It’s all over the web, but you can hear it right here. Check out my new single, “Miss America” produced by Dre Knight!
Miss America by MYounglao Music
It is now 2.33 am on a Wednesday morning.
I’ve been chatting off and on with homieloverfriendartistdude for the last four hours while he records masterpieces in whatever region of the world he’s in and I write (or at least try to) songs here at mi casa in Brooklyn. Every other creative I know is up working and hitting me from time to time. While the world is sleeping, we are all up working, writing, recording, producing, performing, mixing, editing, designing… creating.
Truthfully, I feel like throwing the Macbook Pro at the wall in a fit of frustration. The Reason? I’m on deadline and have come down with a severe case of writer’s block. When this happens it terrifies me. It’s like I’m staring down the barrel of a gun watching my whole life flash before my eyes. It reminds me of my mortality and that my gift for singing and songwriting, if not nurtured, can go away.
The pressure to produce within the entertainment industry is overwhelming. When you make the decision to make your love your labor, it changes things. I remember banging on lunchroom tables and writing songs locked in the downstairs bathroom of my house—the only quiet place in a home Continue reading