While entering gently into old age, my aspirations no longer seem far stretched and unobtainable. They appear simple, direct and self-centered. During two weeks in late 2009, while the snow fell outside and one dog nestled under the covers and the other buried himself in the snow, I entered the expanse, the cement prairie, the wilderness that is Wild Wild Wyandot with the aspirations to make something for me and me alone. I wanted to simply make music that I could listen to while I read. Like language, music must be at once simple and complex. Sounds have to drift in and fade out much in the same a short poignant Carver-like sentence is followed by the thoughts of a character carried out over an entire page in Proust-like vastness. Commas are Casios. Dialogue is the subtle connection between this pedal and that pedal. Conflicts are the noises that shouldn’t be there, but are.
And for some works there should be no periods. Something read once and then read again becomes something entirely new. Something heard once and listened to again becomes more complex, more dangerous. Time and location play a part in this: where you read this, when you listened to that. I leave that all up to you. Whether driving while a loved one sleeps in the passenger seat through miles and miles of apparent nothing (though you can sense its beauty) or whether you sit next to a river and watch a mighty ocean going vessel drift easily out of sight. Home is good too. Keep a book nearby and listen carefully.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for listening.
http://sandusky.bandcamp.com/album/music-for-the-horse-stealing-season
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