Last July, my friend scottm
and I had the critical six hour recording session for a CD called "Gurdonark: Vibrating Electric Fields". I described the process in detail in thisJuly 2002 post
, so I won't belabor this post with further details. I'll just mention that the project involved two electric football vibrating metal fields, many kazoos, a slide whistle, a nose flute, home-made percussion instruments made with beans and miniature Pringle's cans, an electric autoharp, an electric guitar, a plastic diet Coke bottle of ball bearings, a plastic rain stick, a triangle, and a potpourri of kids' rhythm instruments. Oh, and the project involved one very talented musician, Scott, and my nearly talentless but ever-game self.
I'd been delaying getting the CD duplicated, but when Scott finished the jewel case and brought me the finished copy, I thought I'd better sit at the word processor and get the letter out to the CD duplication place. I just wrote the letter, and it's going out in tomorrow's mail.
My wife, wiser than I am, says that my projects are better stories than they are artistic events. I heartily agree. But I thought I would in the spirit of a good story share my song titles. Although some of these titles came to us at the time we recorded, one or two of the least melodious songs had a definite "what the heck is that?" feel to them that required exchange of fevered e mails, written with hasty if amused abandon, to title. Here are our results:
2. Robot Breakfast
3. High Plains Lullaby (Under the Power Lines)
4. Rapture of the Deep
5. Electric Stadium Land
7. We Just Say No
8. Gladiator Song
9. Mind the Gap
10. Alien Marketplace
12. Saturday Afternoon
I am eager to get the CDs back and nervousness exchange, ebay or what have you. I'm also sending off Scott's own solo work, which is actually very good trad roots rock. I may even have to draw up "stationery" for Gurdonark Records, so that I can ask the local alternative newspaper to review the work (or at least Scott's work, which is deserving of review).
Needless to say, any of my LJ friends who wish to suffer will be invited to leave an address several weeks hence when I have CDs in hand. In the meantime, please excuse me, but I want to listen to my CD.