So for your sake, this shall be brief. No huffing-poofing about lost dreams. And with much credit given to the guidance of The Shredder, who has a way of seeing us out of these self-constructed forests.
Imagine us hence: sitting, talking about music. And talking, talking, mostly conceptually about others music. Say for example why something worked in a given year that wouldn't work today, and vice versa. Interesting stuff for intellectuals, and probably much more interesting than what I write here. But much of it would generate those headlines I've grown to loathe (like: Corgan blasts other rock star, says he's a better gardener…)
Pert near every afternoon we were having these chats, residues I guess of the Howard/Pop conversations. "What does pop mean?" he'd ask me, and get an earful.
After a week, or was it two (?), both Jeff and I had grown tired of this circle we'd be in from the last. A revolt was coming, but to what end?
"What would you rather be doing?" he wondered. I said playing with my modular synth. He said playing the guitar. "Then why don't we just hook all that stuff up and play, like we did when we were rehearsing WORLD'S FAIR for Ravinia?"
And let me tell you, once we got going around 2 yesterday, we couldn't *stop playing for about 6 hours. Idea after idea morphing out until we had a veritable box of 'em to consider; albeit off a general thematic thread I'm considering as a progenitor for what might be a concept album. Something that, unlike OCEANIA, would be made ready to play live from the start; with a binding narrative to unify its staged use. We'll call the theme ORUM for now.
"You guys seem happy," said an engineer in observation.