Voices of the Deep

During dinner at Nyonya last night, a great Malaysian place on Grand between Mott and Mulberry, I interrupted conversation with the lovely jungen fraus not once, but twice to take calls from people I haven’t heard from in a long time. A call from a very Khoroshaya Deva put me off balance. Why then? Why not all the other nights when I could have easily taken her call since I last saw her in December (November??)? I’ll be putting a call in to her today on my way to school.

I got the DD-20 Giga Delay pedal. Fucking with the delay intervals on this while simultaneously modulating the delay interval on the delay effects already built into my keyboard should produce interesting waves of sound, new universes, new modalities. I may become a plant. If you believe in rock ‘n roll, can music chain your mortal soul to the mortal coil of a peony, make corn blind, grow a mustache on rocks? Are we out of jazz? Have I caught something?
In related news, I read Deleuze and Guattarri’s “Rhizome” from 1000 plateaus yesterday, volume 2 of their “Capitalism and Schizophrenia.”

Noise, cascades of sound and we abandon depth perception.