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We had three half days of practice. I was really nervous, because this is one of my favorite Malaysian bands of all time. I mean, yeah I know the guys as real people but still when they're up there performing, you can't help but think that they're from somewhere really special of which you're in no way a part of. So I won't talk about how honored and grateful I was to be a part of it, isn't that a given? Instead, I'd like to share something that I wrote for my creative writing class.
UP ON THE STAGE
The hall is empty, except for a handful of people busy scurrying around trying to do something or trying to find something to do. I could see most of them stealing glances at us; if that’s a crime, the jails would be full of ogling eyes. Shyness creeps in. And still I’m standing with my right hand lightly touching the magic device. I would call it my wonderful telescope. For when I open my mouth to sing, it makes distant things like wishing stars seem larger and nearer. I hear myself loud and clear, echoing in the soon-to-be-filled gathering space for those who appreciate what I and my friends are doing. Through this telescope, I see my dreams becoming bigger and more real, but just not quite yet. The smell of wood lingers, I know where it’s coming from, I miss my acoustic guitar at home. My throat is getting dry and I could almost feel the delicious taste of cold mango juice splashing down it, no ice please. Lets get this sound check over and done with.
And here I am again, in front of so many people. My friends are smiling encouragement at me. It’s hard to believe and nerve-wrecking as well, to be up here with so many eyes looking. Eyes; spotlight following my every move, watching for my mistake and highlighting the moment for me to trip and fall. I could feel the bright mechanical stare burning my skin, making it all red and embarrassing. But I’ll show them, I’ll show what I’m capable of doing in front of this microphone, my telescope. The music is playing and it brings along a wave of inspiration. I don’t think there’s anywhere else I would rather be at or anyone else I want to be with. I open my mouth to sing. It feels great. I could see the spotlight blurring into little twinkling stars. Prettier than diamonds, less threatening than before. And I hear my voice revealing the heart of my life, as I sing for my love of music. The smell of wood resonates with the scent of clean perspiration. I taste flower petals in my mouth. And the crowd cheers on, I know that what I see through my telescope might not be so far after all.