...being the observations and navigational extracts
from the ongoing expeditions of San Francisco Piano Pop trio
True Margrit

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Unnatural Habitat

          Friday, Feb 21
 Hello nice people. Where was I? Here, all along. Here. Did you not know?

  Yes, folks, it's 2014, a year in which we chip away at various ongoing projects, made somehow new by the magical electromagnetic pull of the used calendar pages streaking off into darkness behind us, which is the past.

  Andrew's busy computing and interwebbing for the entire Pacific Northwest. Gary's mastering 500 million re-issues of 80s bands. I'm recording all manner of projects from voiceover to The Creak to a Dream Academy Tribute Album to film scores. And, most pertinent to this venue--being the blog of the band True Margrit--we're striving to make headway on our followup to The Juggler's Progress. Progress--and every bit counts, even if it's baby steps. Nano steps. Whole steps. Half steps. Microtones.  These meticulous minute motions are all still progress. By any name and by various means. Onward. Progressively closer go we, and not without a slight wink & tip o' the hat to progressive rock--toward which I harbor more fondness than irony, so shush up, haters.  Progressiveering. Towards out goal of unveiling our finished album for those who care. Presumably you, and your friends who you will be turning on to True Margrit, because that's what people do. Share the lesser-known goodies. Of which we are one.

  I write to you from Gary's studio (A Hammer Mastering) where certain aspects of our production process take place. Primarily editing/ mixing. Overdubbing occurs here, too, but more of that is undertaken at my place (Absolutely True Sound--now in Emeryville). As we speak, we're finalizing the basic-track edit of, "Love on the Moon" and in mere moments it will be ready for me to sing vocals and add..... guitar, organ, guest-star vocalists? And perhaps, since it's a science fiction scenario of romance triumphing despite misadventures set on a totalitarian Moonbase ruled by tyrannical robots, we'll need just a little post-apocalyptic sprinkling of high and lonesome lunar synthesizer. 

  Now we're switching over to "Symphony of Trivia". It's about (among other layers of meanings you can choose all on your own) the stimulation/distraction eternally pulsating on the myriad array of personal devices,  pads, screens,  chips,  or even just conversations, and the way one wonders, doesn't one, whether we'll have in the not-too-distant-future the impulse to swallow a bio-nanotech-capsule for a seamless interface to a total immersion cyber-experience.  And then the evil totalitarian Botguard can manipulate we the masses and violate all manner of civil rights. By, for example, shipping gay people off to the Moonbase to be ice miners. An unnatural habitat.

  So wait, you may ask, does all the foregoing mean there's a storyline threading through your upcoming album? Why yes, there is.  "Comforting the Castaways" is a--concept album? Rock opera? You choose your weapon of deconstruction. You can also simply enjoy the songs as standalones. In any event, I'm currently at work setting down the scenario as a longish short-story. The plan/hope is that it ultimately will be a graphic novella that reader/ listeners can synergistically thrill to.  More on that--when there's more to report.

  Meanwhile, it's now been two years since we moved to the Eastbay and I'm happy to report that my Eastbay pride is flourishing and blossoming.  After two decades absorbing the sights, sounds, smells, the hustlings and bustlings of the Haight & the Mission, Emeryville has demanded some adjustment. For example, it's quieter than SF at night and I sometimes wake up in the wee hours and ask:

  "Hey, what's that...silence?"

And as any insomniac knows, at an hour such as that, a feeling of disorientation can creep in and beg the unanswerable questions, like, what is a the 'natural' habitat of a human? The human-made urban edifices and alleys? Cities with the best restaurants?  The tidy green suburbs? Alpine villages? Alkaline pans (where certain folk enact a seasonal intermittent social-experiment utopia)? The white sand beaches? Anywhere with indoor plumbing?

  But, you know, just like when you move to the Moon,  once you've learned where the best views of Earthrise can we enjoyed, which airlocks have a shorter wait,  where you can find the more spacious micro-gravity bathrooms,  which canteen serves desserts other than freezedried ice cream, well then the unnatural habitat become natural. Perhaps supernatural.