January 27, 2015
In searching for the 'lost chord', one stacks up pedals and digs through wires, hoping to find what seems elusive. The quest, as it is, is futile, for every version of polyphony is both 'right' and 'wrong' at both the same time; that is, to the ear of some beholder. The middling class (i.e. the class that generally rules) cares little for such pursuits. Which brings to mind that great, oft-quoted and probably misquoted line from Willie Wonka: "I want my golden ticket and I want it now!" So produce we do, to whom and to where, offending most and pleasing few, with confidences tattering and smearing. But again, futility to even speak it.
Which explains (in part) my reluctance to speak. I am beaten, etc etc anew, and go to the well I do, rewriting DAY FOR NIGHT almost, but not quite, from the bells up. To what end, I cannot say?
I hope you are well, those who read these missives, or did read them as promised. I can't say now whether they help or hurt, which adds to my reticence. There just might be a decade here where it makes sense for me to talk far, far less and produce far, far more. So let's assume that starts NOW.
As for the music, it's going great (ephemerally), and I'm happier with what it all means. If MTAE was a collective, shiny thing that will either dull or brighten with time, DFN is an intact vision of a forgotten world; albeit not forgotten by me and your occasional, forlorn goth. It'll rock, don't you worry, but not as cartoon or symptom and it certainly a'int a cure for what ails us.
In an age to love, die, and be reborn in love…
W.P.C.
January 13, 2015
