Ode to A Dream

On a beautiful autumn day somewhere around '82, I took a walk with friends to the park close to our high school. Upon arrival I met Christopher, who had a boom box that was playing some of the most hauntingly beautiful textures and rhythms I'd heard in a while. He told me that it was "Ricochet" - a live album by a band called Tangerine Dream. Christopher and I went on to become very close friends, a connection of which was key around music... and what he turned me on to literally changed my life and musical perspective forever.

Tangerine Dream's music spoke to me in a unique way. I was already into electronic music... but their organic synth textures and woven sequences took hold of me like nothing before. There was also a particularly haunting quality that drew me toward them.

Many electronic musicians and an incredible number of dance music producers have sighted them as a major influence - for good reason. The textures they used - and perhaps even more-so - their sequenced rhythms pre-dated their dance music equivalents by decades.

Much of the next few years were spent scouring record-stores sniffing out their albums in the "import" bins. First was Tangram... but soon after I acquired "70-80" - a seminal collection of great tracks, some previously unreleased gems, and a picture book that I got lost in over and over again... filled with loads of concert pics and gear. Their music brought me to beautiful and alien places. I wanted to learn about all the gear - how to make such wondrous textures. Many nights were filled with dreams about gear - and ultimately learning to mimic those textures on my own primitive studio setup.

Music has an incredible ability to do that - a stronger force than anything I've experienced otherwise. To instantly inspire and tap into a part of the soul nothing else seemed to relate to. They will always be a major influence on me - because, "The dream is still the same..."

If you think and of this sounds or looks interesting - wait 'til you hear the actual recordings. Sublimely rich oceans of organic synth textures.

Losing the Moment

Fact: All moments arrive and pass. I think, generally as humans, we learn the meaning of this more-so as we get older. For the past few years I have been coming to realize this more and more in a variety of ways. Today I had another poignant reminder:

As stated in an earlier post I have very much gotten into photography - and am currently working on several particular studies to showcase in the near future. Some of these require specific conditions. On my way to to the gym I decided to get some (decent) coffee and took a route I normally don't. It was raining, but not too hard. In crossing the street, at just the right angle and lighting conditions, I found an incredible example of one of my studies... but I had dallied to get to the gym and really wanted to get some coffee another block away. I figured: I'll just snap some pics on the way back.

Well - coffee took longer than I thought it would, as I waited for the caffeine to hit, and generally lost track of time. The lighting changed, and it started raining harder. Heading back toward the gym, I carefully looked in the spots where I'd found my subject. Gone. All gone. Washed away in the muck of NYC streets and drainage. I became annoyed at myself, as this was not the first time I'd experienced this lesson.

I realize we all do this from to time: not recording a quick 'demo', not writing down an idea, inspiration, or quote that wafted through our busy heads... or, perhaps worse(?) not expressing an honest emotion we've been feeling for a special friend or loved one.

The moment passes - the rain gets harder and the drainage of time carries it all away. No use in crying over it, nor beating ourselves up... but those moments will never happen in the same way again.

Lesson: take that moment... steal it as you can, express yourself and know that even if it wasn't perfect you know that you took advantage of something that may never come 'round again.

Wire to the Ear is one of my absolute favorite blog-spots. Oliver writes concise and interesting entries about music, technology, life, art, and personal experiences as a performer/producer. A recent entry concerning depression and art was of particular interest and so I am re-posting a link to it below. Leonard Cohen has written some great, deep and very moving material. Hope you dig this!


Victory Over Suffering

Inspirational Listening

I know what inspiration feels like - but it's not often easy to identify it's source. For the first time in a long time I came home, checked out the Sprawl Electronic's favorite SoundCloud tracks and just let myself drink in other people's work. It's great to hear all the surprisingly nice production people are doing "out there". Sometimes one can get so consumed with trying to figure out what they should be doing "next" that they don't make time to listen to what other contemporaries are doing. And sometimes that's inspiration enough. Breathe, "drink in" and see what sticks and perhaps even consider why - or not. I've added a few of these faves to my fave SoundCloud list and I'm diggin' some greatly varied tracks. A nice thing to do following dinner with friends from out of town.

Here's an improv I did on my iPhone last summer... or was it two? It's freely downloadable.
copepod - Song for a Blind Alley by copepod

Does anybody hear this?

So... it's been several months since my left ear-drum ruptured, due to a severe inner-ear infection. I'm not the first or only musician to deal with this malady, but the nature of what I produce demands critical listening, which has been hindered by my newly acquainted tinnitus (ringing in the ear) and generally muffled/altered hearing.

This sucks.

I've always valued my hearing as one of my greatest assets. And now I feel somewhat broken. I listen to works of mine and second guess their quality even more-so than I normally might. It's been a struggle to not to let this get me down... not to blame myself or my body for not "working properly".

In response, I've been attempting to concentrate on my photography and some other interests. It's been somewhat helpful, though I'd give nearly anything to have my regular hearing back. For some odd reason it's been worse the past few days, and conditions at work seem to aggravate it more readily.

On a brighter note, I went to visit my very talented and good friend, Charles Cohen two weekends ago in Philly. An inspiring, fun, relaxing and rejuvenating trip. Thank you Charles - it meant so very much to me!

This is a clip of Charles and Masri performing in Philly - Good fun!