...he said with a cheery smile.

Purposelessness drives us down into the ground.

Such is the fate of a bass player.

Trewin’s hard at work, probably - tweaking the new stuff, adding tiny little melody lines behind the core song to add interest and stuff that only our subconscious really hears to keep us interested in whatever music we’re listening to. Listen carefully to something in your collection that at first glance seems highly repetitive, and you’ll see that the reason your brain does not switch off (or…maybe it does) is because of some misplaced drum skit, or some off-kilter note in the rhythm section, somewhere (and it may occur just once), that keeps you interested without you knowing. It’s like television. Those flashing white transitions in adverts that force every ancient instinct to PAY ATTENTION. That’s what musicians make. A piece of music, in the 21^st century, is more than anything else an advert for itself. Please refer to: IMHO

            Not to denigrate it. There’s still an Aristotelian ratio to be calculated between observing a perfect wall of paint as its vapours whisp into a mathematically ornate universe, and being assaulted by a Michael Bay film. 

            Jeb’s working, probably, on videos or new visual things or whatnot. France Traumas, I think it’s called. A satire on European existentialism, which is something to which I cannot relate and, oh woe, fear I shall never be able to…

            Nothing new here. Hard at work on the usual stuff. Phoria stuff.

            Ed’s scoring some string parts for recording. That’s what a classical education and a predilection for unheard of tidiness will get you. Not a note out of place, I’m sure.

            Seryn’s started teaching Japanese, I think. Or English to Japanese people. Or something like that.

            Me? I play bass. I live in my little satellite habitat. What have I been up to? My own stuff. Throwing out guitar lines this way and that, sitting in a backbreaking posture on a wooden chair (my comfy, executive chair was destroyed in, you know, a fire) typing away for days on end, trying to finish weird little projects that I still don’t believe I ever will.

            I think that we all feel a slight sense of limbo. Or perhaps it’s just me. The future, from here, looks bright, but it shines like a 1pm appointment. It’s not like you can really start anything this morning, as you’ve got to leave the house at midday, so you tidy up the kitchen a bit, flick frustratingly around the TV or check facebook for twenty minutes longer than you normally would just to get shot of that time that lays before you. Before you have something to do. You’d rather either just get the appointment out of the way, or have it late in the day, like 5pm, so the day is yours, rather than belonging to your own apprehension.

            We’ve got so much stuff going on, I guess I’m just being complacent. I WANT EVERYTHING TO HAPPEN NOOOOWW! Not later! Not at 1pm! NOW! *stamp stamp feet feet*

            As a product of a capitalist society, I demand purpose. I demand that something demands my attention, with urgency.

                Or I could just practice Distorted Western Buddhism. 

                Thank goodness for laissez-faire.

            Tim

P.S. Welcome, to our three-thousandth facebook fan. Come see us play with Efterklang on 28^th October at Hove Old Market. It’s literally just down the road from me, which means it’s great.