My speakers are ringing and my ears are blown. I'm livin kush at some dolls' afterhours. I'm sprawled out on a perfectly manicured back lawn somewhere in a suburban maze, a labyrinth of an american dream. and what was that George Carlin said? "You have to be asleep...". But more than that, i'm thinking about sound waves. Some believe that soundwaves never truly dissipate. That they echo into eternity, piling up on one another, every sound ever made from the bang up until now. What a cacophony that must be.
Some (and I) believe that the earth resonates at F#. That sacred sites around the world are accoustically tuned to amplify this universal note. But have you heard it on a moog, tonally augmented from decades of abuse and neglect, then trashed through a stomp box? Not very sacred, and probably not the direction the conductor originally envisioned either, but infectious nonetheless. Fair enough.
Sometimes I really trip on the idea of vinyl. I can't get my head around it. Music is etched - notes and ideas, passion and feeling, into grooves on an acetate platter. And seriously, I've read the manual, I know what's happening ...it's just one of those things that seems like magic to me. I look at the vinyl I've released, that I've framed and placed on a wall, doomed to live without its purpose simply because it's mine, and I'm overwhelmed by the thought that a simple beat, originated in my head one lonely night has traveled the world over. This is my connection, my inner child manifested as a loud, raccous extrovert. And I'm left to wonder about the strength of the connections we now create in the digital divide that paves the way for creative expression in this age.