fusion
Old fusion albums. Listening back, a lot to learn there. Sometimes it’s just meandering, people testing the edges while forgetting about the center. At other times, it’s greatness. Risk becomes […]
illusion of knowing
At a party two weeks ago, I heard an American in his eighties, a retired teacher talk about murder. A moment earlier the conversation was about food, about school, ordinary […]
Sammy Davis Jr’s Vancouver pad
I thought I knew it all, the Railway, the Commodore, the Naam, the Cultch, that place on Granville, the two older places in Gastown. Looks as though the show in […]
this instead of that
The girls came back for more. They sang on Airplane on the Highway and We got Time. Swedish Karl suggested the record be old and new songs and so it […]
take your clothes off when you dance
About thirty-five years ago I played the Moers Music Festival in Germany. The band was one of Eugene Chadbourne’s wild inventions. Ashwin Batish, Jonathan Segal, Brian Ritchie, and, most importantly, […]
listening back
I added a string part to one of the songs in the new recording. Thought it was subtle, tasteful, the kind of thing that would make people think how interesting. […]
started airplane on the highway
I began to organize the next song from the sessions in Sweden. The task itself pleased me, for it was the kind of problem that contained within it both confusion […]
youth from the open stage
At the open stage they returned two young women, twin comets in mismatched orbits. Both new to the ritual, both possessed of voices that didn’t merely sing but insisted upon […]
mixing the idiot
Last June or maybe July, Doug McClement, generous as always, offered to record me at the Harris Institute. Two grand pianos to choose from – both gleaming, both waiting for […]
art of not breaking
The older I get, the more important cat-cow and cobra seem to be. Squats too. Balance, flexibility the body’s way of reminding you it still wants to participate. When I […]