More Important Things

This mini-album contains what I consider to be my best piano music from 2005. I have a better system for recording and editing tracks than I did on my last album, so there are fewer rough spots this time around. Overall, I'm happy with these tracks, so I hope you enjoy them. Questions, comments, and criticisms should be fired towards:

Listening and Downloading
To play a track, simply click on its title in the listing below. It is also possible to download the music files by right-clicking on the title (or control-clicking if you are using a Mac) and choosing “Save Target As...” or a similar option.

Album Artwork
Click below to view the full-sized images.

Front Back

1. Prelude
“You can never get enough of what you don't need to make you happy.”
-Eric Hoffer

2. More Important Things
I'm continually alarmed by how consumerism and conformity have become not just a part of some people's lives but the sole meaning to their existence. I always feel like grabbing these lost souls by the shoulders and shaking them, yelling, “No! Don't you get it? There's more to it all than just this!” I've learned to resist that impulse and pour my frustration into music instead. This piece is an exuberant defiance of unchecked consumption and unthinking conformity.

3. Scar
My mind sometimes wanders to dark thoughts as I improvise at the piano. As I reflected on a particularly painful experience, this piece emerged.

4. Music for a Goddess
I decided to compose a piece for my mother to celebrate Mother's Day. I wanted to avoid writing something sappy, so instead I went for a sense of awe and majesty, of utmost respect and admiration for all that mothers do. It's for mothers everywhere, though of course, it applies to my own especially. In its finished form, the piece reminds me a little of Holst.

5. Blue Indeed
Seven and a half minutes of feel better.

6. Summertime
For Father's Day, my rendition of George Gershwin's standard. It aims for sultry but in the end hits a little darker. For best effect, listen to this standing barefoot in wet grass near the edge of a forest on a cold, moonless night.


This page and all original compositions, performances,
and artwork copyright 2006 Dan Reed.