I was listening to a recording released last month of the 21 year old Janis Joplin, called the Legendary Typewriter tapes. I didn’t realize until the first song kicked in, Janis Joplin is, as she would always be known later, singing her heart out. It seems to me a much less experienced version of her, less familiar with the altered states she would soon be overly familiar with and weirdly, somebody’s accompanying her as best they can percussively on a typewriter. It’s funny at first because many musicians have thought about utilizing sound objects in song and I assumed that’s what this is, until I read reviews. It’s a woman in the next room typing a letter to her parents. It’s random. John Cage should have had his own record label. It’s a chance meeting of the organized and the un-o.