I Have No Eyedea (Micheal "Eyedea" Larsen tribute)

by AllOne

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This is my meager thank you/tribute to Micheal "Eyedea/Oliver Hart" Larsen, who passed away at 28 years old of an accidental overdose in his sleep, two years ago today (on 10/16/2010).
I wrote the bulk of this song the day that I found out, I was crushed, and have modified it a bit on the day of recording. I may re-release this slightly modified, but the night before today I listened to his music and just had all this energy and recorded this song this way, and am deciding to leave it flawed and raw and real.

I feel that Micheal was the paragon artist and damn near close to the same thing humanely. He acknowledged and embraced flaws and was always genuine. Probably one of the best writers and talents of our time. He was forever loving, thinking and experimenting, a brilliant renaissance man focused on just sharing an honest message with people. He was smart enough to know he was never smart enough and loving enough to know you could never be loving enough.

I had the pleasure of meeting him when he performed with Kristoff Krane and Educated Consumers at The Mercury Lounge in NYC on July 17th 2010, just 3 months before his death. That was easily one of the best nights of my life and he influenced me before, during and after that so heavily. We spoke at length and he was just a real person, he didn't put walls up between his supporters and him. He was on top of the audience, we rapped songs together with his arm around my shoulder in the crowd. He reminded us that we are all part of a greater entity and that we are all individuals.

This song is written almost entirely with words only used from his song titles/band names/monikers/album titles and lyrical references, as another level of attempting to pay homage to him.
The instrumental is from the song "Music Music" off his first record with DJ abilities "First Born". Please research his music at www.rhymesayers.com and life at www.micheallarsen.com and contribute money to this family where you can.

lyrics

ALL CAPS WORDS ARE SONG/ BAND/ MONIKER/ ALBUM REFERENCES THAT I ENCOURAGE YOU TO RESEARCH:

I have no idea how to try to cope,
The tragedy grabs at me BY THE THROAT,
I find I felt for you like you were my FIRST BORN,
Listening to all of your art, my OLIVER HART, hurts more.

I'm writin' because you're dead, wishin' you were alive
feelin' empty since you left and yet inspired to survive,
something melted inside when the news hit my ears,
I feel I'm missing a sibling with which I grew amid my years.
We met when you performed this summer in New York,
played BURN FETISH like an arsonist, made smart remarks at kids,
held my arm and gripped as we parted lips to harmonize in the darkness
into the same microphone.
"Mike Larsen" (as he'd steal shows) is one of my heroes,
because...well fuck, I mean "was" as now his life is gone.
You Colored Your World Yours and our world more,
should have been twice as known!
Never generic, as if adrenaline and esoteric lessons
were embedded, netted in your genetics,
sped up sentences effortless, affectionate, emotionable,
although every opponent known to be overthrown.
These wild freestyle skills undeniable! Genre: undefinable.
Integrated innovation. Beautiful musings through his music
while cruising through the blinding light like in "Step By Step".
I can't imagine the BIRTH OF A bigger FISH,
whose swimmer fins could fill the shoe size here you left.
no one wants to wear those eerie shirts that claim "Eyedea Is Dead"
You've written grim predictions...
or coincidences at the very least your
friend died in October as spoken in "Hay Fever"
and according to the addictions
and recordings amid the fiction
adoring of physics and exploring of religion.
No stray needle stashed in the hay fever stack
whatever bane leaves you thrashed,
This world? They need you back.

I have no idea how to try to cope,
The tragedy grabs at me BY THE THROAT,
I find I felt for you like you were my FIRST BORN,
Listening to all of your art, my OLIVER HART, hurts more.

ONE of our STARS was DESTROYED,
I don't know how to ACT RIGHT, NOW.
This is JUNK I don't want to have THE RIGHT TO THINK
to have to think to write about.
Sensible, and scarily true how clarity is bruised and dead
with losing him "What don't kill me..." you knew the rest.
but I'd prefer a lunatic that continues to live
who's music's sick, than this lucid print
of confusion glimpsed upon the clouded thoughts
of my brain, LIQUID SOVEREIGNTY rains on my parade,
doused and offered a reigning lump in my throat
as I choke on POWDERED WATER,
that'll recall your Adam's apple,
don't Tell me where the arrow's seeking,
I don't know where this BIG SHOT'S WELL BEING,
was BLINDLY FIRED...SKY-DIVING dove from,
but life's MURDER of you is a MEMORY that has my SMILE broke up,
influenced leagues of listeners and people that seen you grow up,
arms thrown up, to raise the roof of their skulls
just to know what their soul's touched.
everyone who was HERE FOR YOU's jaw dropped
when you'd show up, with every mind blowing concept you spoke of.
Quite honestly a wild oddity child prodigy,
and when I met you i wish I "met a man who trained himself not to"
BOTTLED DREAM and disappear into a Great-Lake-Effect.
A sea of collected tears that make me hate to take a breath.
This darkened blasphemous hell.
SPINs CYCLEs around my VOID head like a CARBON CAROUSEL
beating the MANY FACE...CANDIES until it's sugary fake GLASS breaks.

I have no idea how to try to cope,
The tragedy grabs at me BY THE THROAT,
I find I felt for you like you were my FIRST BORN,
Listening to all of your art, my OLIVER HART, hurts more.

My EXHAUSTED LOVE misses you,
I hope you're in some PARADISE, KEPT.
because out of E&A day, just A day remains left.
We know THIS IS WHERE WE WERE when we wept,
WIPING BLUES, after we READ "Eyedea is dead"
like those shirts he pressed, back then we were sure impressed,
but now we're al; depressed, since he wrecked each set he blessed.
and despite your song with Sean Daley,
we'll mourn daily and never FORGET.

I have no Eyedea how to try to cope,
The tragedy grabs at me BY THE THROAT,
I find I felt for you like you were my FIRST BORN,
Listening to all of your art, my OLIVER HART, hurts more.

credits

released October 16, 2012
Instrumental: "Music Music" by DJ Abilities
Lyrics by Bruce "AllOne" Pandolfo
Recorded mixed and mastered by Michael Korb

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AllOne

An experimental hip-hop lyricist, performance poet, singer/songwriter, author, beat-boxer. AllOne molds a brain into the shape of a heart and squeezes it onto a page to write thoughtful and sentimental lyrics laced with tight knit wordplay, rhyme patterns and poetic devices. Utilizing any genre and any musical means to make a genuine and meaningful conversation with you, the appreciated listener. ... more

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