My Time in Amsterdam


AMSTERDAM 1999

  The “Blues” rang through a smoky pub on a Friday evening in the heart of Holland, as I embraced my surfacing feelings one by one, taking in every moment, every beat of my erratic heart. (Don’t you see I want to be free and sing like a figure of divinity?) I wanted to sing so magnificently, dissecting the in between day time and night time sky so that every Angel above would acknowledge me, wishing to make love to me. I wandered for a bit hearing wonderful melodies all around me, as I made my way through Amsterdam’s famous Vondelpark.

I have everything: The strength of optimism, my beautiful mind, my bountiful soul. (God, old Aretha Franklin has a way of getting deep down inside of you.) In every direction there are vibrant, beautiful, crazy fucking characters surrounding me, not one ever missing a beat.

THIS IS AMSTERDAM!

   Most people come to Amsterdam to experiment, not knowing what they are looking for. But I knew why I had come to Amsterdam. (It was to let go everything go, to expand my spirit, be able to truly taste life for the very first time.)

I have come to be at peace over the last several days of my life, grow like a plot of tulips surrounded by a pack of still, guarding, silver reptiles silently staring at all. In Europe, the groove is everything. (The Europeans listen and are hip to the heaviest music going!) I nurse a frosty beer while riding an Ecstasy haze, feeling every sound of the illustrious Music move through me, growing inside of me. In the corner of a Beatnik café, I find myself falling deeper and deeper into a Alfred Hitchcock “Vertigo” poster that’s framed on a pulsating tavern wall. [HITCHCOCK WAS THE MUTHAFUCKER ALRIGHT!]

“I love any man who can raise the dead,”   I acknowledge to myself.

[Voice from a Universal voice.]   “How can you escape the sounds of Soul while riding the Soul train?”

“You can’t. Either you accept the ride, or you continue to live in denial.”

   Accepting, rather than declining the ride, makes me believe I am alive, somehow part of all “This!”; This life, this existence, this GIFT. I wish one day to form a band that will emotionally challenge every creature it confronts. (Amsterdam is the place.) I can feel 100% pure euphoria running through each of my throbbing veins. (The only thing I can’t do is fly. I tried to, but fell flat on my fucking face.)

Sunny days I walk without a care, feeling like the hand of God is guiding my every step. I look over my shoulder and realize that Life truly is a miracle, a gift, a sensational blessing that most of the time we take for granted. To be continued…

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Vondelpark-Amsterdam

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George Michael VI- A Brief Conversation


It is early in the P.M Hours and drinking some mediocre Red Chinon when the Tele rings.

“Hello?”

“Layden, it’s me.”

“It’s who?”

“Me?”

“Me who?”

“Your best buddy.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Mr. Hedonism- Mr. Careless Whisper minus Sexy Sax Man, George Michael.”

CLICK.

Amsterdam Busking


   Layden Robinson busked in Amsterdam in the Summer of 2006.  Many of Layden Robinson’s songs from his 4 albums were inspired by his time Busking in Amsterdam.   Amsterdam Busking was an awesome experience for Layden Robinson and made him a much better guitar player and Human Being!

Amsterdam, Blueberry, Jean Claude Van Damme and Al Jazeera


After spending several days in Amsterdam with my dear friends Attorney James ” Mick” Ingram and Fracois ” The Magician” Kendercork ; (  In the photo below alongside my bloated self.)  I decided after smoking copious amounts of “Blueberry” and booking a King size bed for three people, that it was time to move on to Brussels on a second class disease train and try to find the gone missing  Jean Claude Van Damme.   Quite the elusive fucker Van Damme is, especially with a head full of Angelic Cocaine and Belgian Chocolate running through his corrupt veins.  It is safe to say we were unsuccessful in our mission to find J.C.V.D, but we did stumble into a fanatical Muslim Al Jeezera infested Internet Cafe;  That was quite interesting!   Please subscribe if you dig the vibe.

A Tangle with “The Moroccan” in Amsterdam.


Me back in the Summer of 2006 in Amsterdam a little bloated and demented after a tangle with ” The Moroccan” at  The Grasshopper; You can see in my eyes that I was not victorious and am a bit deabilitated  🙂       bit.ly/hk8WLh

Today is new Ebook and free Song day!


Today is “Pick up my new Ebook for $2.99 and get a free song day!”   Please message me at brucetorce1@yahoo.com for more details!

George Michael and Sexy Sax Man


Rumor has it that George Michael will be teaming up with Sexy Sax Man to do a North American tour and there will be lots of tight latex, Albino escapee twins from a Arkansas Carnival, Life sized Voodoo dolls dressed in the latest hot fashions, the sexiest of the sexy Tranny background singers, sinister Liberace impersonators, and a fuck load of “Careless Whisper”.    🙂    http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/greatest-and-otherwise/id416176197

                                                                                       

Mr. Clown Frown repost- A must read!


MR. CLOWN FROWN.

Once upon a time a clown told me a story about a special universe people go to explore their deep seeded desires and animosities.  I inquired of this clown, dismayed but yet curious.

” Where is this special place you speak of, Mr. Clown Frown?”    Such a maniacal frown the clown wore like sorrow upon a tormented canvas.

” Is it safe to say that this place is not for everyone?”  I continued with my anxiety ridden inquiry, as Mr. Clown Frown stared into me with such a relentless stare, taking me by the hand and leading me down a cherry soaked road which seemed to the be at the edge of our forsaken world.  There were no words that came from the broken hearted clown’s mouth, as he only communicated by broken sign language and telepathy. I was starting to dial in to my new surroundings and began to witness things so much more vividly then i had ever before; IT IS NEVER SAFE WHEN YOU BECOME THE WITNESS.

” Is it safe to say this could be our last day, Mr, Clown Frown?”   How quickly Mr. Clown Frown’s sullen expression turned into a razor smile, as all around us the venomous sky began to rain red brick red; Behind me, i could sense Mr. Clown Frown and i were no longer alone.  Giddy up.

My new Ebook ” Found Ground” is now for sale via Paypal at robinsonderek@hotmail.com for $3.99

International Praise


Cheers to all of my International fans in The UK, Denmark, Germany, Holland, Italy, The Czech Republic, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and Sri Lanka- Komodo Country

Amsterdam Busking


Here is a groove inspired by my time busking and attempting to live in the liberal capital of the World.    Cheers.   P.S:   Research what the “purple light” means,  stay away from the ‘ bubble gum”, and don’t attempt to take a leak in the corners of alleyways because they have steel reflectors that will bounce your piss back at you.  🙂    http://bit.ly/fGGSLh

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