This?

Friday, June 22, 2007

Not Tonight...

I've got a headache. DeSk got together for the first time in seven months, and it sounded great. But in the new space - Karl's loft apartment in Port Chester - we're even louder. That's okay, we'll get a handle on the sound. But for now, my temples throb.

My grandiose expectations for this project have risen again. What can I say, I'm an eternal optimist. But I know good music when I hear it, and this is the best stuff I've ever had a hand in producing, bar none. The final product - God, I hope we get to get it to that level - will be a classic album. Let me go on record as saying that in 2017, when you find yourself absent-mindedly flipping through the cable channels on insomniac night (whatever form cable and television takes ten years from now), and you stumble across an episode from VH1's new season of Retro Classics Eviscerated, don't be surprised when you see my talking head discussing just how I got that weird Rhodes sound. Because everyone will want to know!

Beforehand, we all grabbed the 1/2 Pollo Saltado from MIsti's Pollo a la Brassa, a Peruvian restaurant up the street. The Pollo Saltado is small slivers of chicken sauteed with tomatoes and onions, dumped on top of a bed of rice, which is then in turn laid on a foundation of french fries. Apparently, a lot of starch is what keeps your blood oxygenated at the high Andean altitudes. Little known fact: it was during the potato famine of 1542 that Machu Picchu was finally abandoned. Climbing all those laid stone steps was too much for even the hardiest Incan to take, leaving them gasping and blue in the face, all for want of a simple carbohydrate.

We experienced something like that as well, because Karl's apartment is at the top of two very tall flights of stairs. I'd be ready to give up an empire, too.

Anyway, it's only been one practice - one very, very promising practice - so I won't go on. But remember: 2017. VH-1. Be there to learn the secret of my keyboard sounds. Oh, and:



That's our new mascot.

D.

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