Christopher Blog

12) Entranced 3.0

Not available since 1999

It’s an `angry young man’ classical composition. A bombastic statement saying `THIS IS THE STORY!’ and hits you over the head with it over and over and over again.

`Entranced 3.0′ doesn’t bear much resemblance to the other 2. It’s not really as pleasant or elegant. This one almost borders on a dirge prior to going into the `Entranced’ instrumentation. (Glockenspiel and piano.) I remember the feelings of confusion and fleeing played a large role in this piece.

The `moaning’ soundscape was a very heavy handed allusion. Very little is left to the imagination. I guess that’s some sort of achievement since there are no words. Just a chattering violin meandering through the song.

Sadly, this is probably my best and most intricate violin performance that I have publicly released. I can hear shoddy edits where I had to piece together the solo. And some lovely sharp notes.

I worked bloody hard on that Korg 01/W Midi Workstation so the `orchestral’ strings didn’t sound so fake. But you can only liven up a corpse so much.

Hearing this song causes a certain amount of discomfort. I think it’s because I tried so hard. At everything. And results were always minimal.

Before I forget, this is the second attempt at Entranced 3.0. The original doesn’t have the moaning soundscape.(You can hear the original at the end of this post.) But I intended from day 1 to have it.

To create this soundscape, it involved a visit to my creep-friendly porno shop… (continue reading…)

1) Prelude: The Gentle Art of Not Forgetting 1:38

This song was available on the 2006 compilation `Abandoned In Situ.’ So you regulars out there, I am sorry that the first thing you are hearing is something you already own.

The Hot Attic of Despair

When I listen to this track, I remember being in my attic (I lived in the attic in my parent’s house) and playing the piano part. I remember the Green and Orange signal level lights on the Tascam 4 Track jumping up and down.

I remember the oppressive New Jersey heat and humidity, the sweat dripping off my nose onto the white keyboard keys. I had an air conditioner that only cooled 1 square foot of the room and I was 20 feet away. Average temperature in the summer was about 110 degrees in that attic.

Despite the heat, I loved that attic. It had dark brown faux wood beams and a cathedral-style ceiling. It kind of looked like an old rustic Swiss tavern. In better times, it was a great haven. I was fortunate to have spent my `tender years’ in such swanky digs.

It was mid-week and I was absorbed in my microcosm until the weekend job; which consisted of lugging musical gear up and down Interstate 95 for a tribute band. Where would I be this week? Poughkeepsie? Providence? Vermont? They were all the same to me. Except for West Virginia. (continue reading…)