Another week gone and yet no mix for you to download. I’m sure you are cursing me for how many garments you’ve rended and need to replace, as well as the dental bills from your gnashed teeth.
A feeble ray of hope! I’ve figured out a good way (ie, least amount of fussing with various bits) to move files around so I can mix on a machine that sounds like it should. The issue is the same one that drove me to get a laptop to start with. I don’t want to sit isolated in a room in the basement mixing. I find it to be depressing and if feels like punishment. But the ideas keep piling up and if I don’t do something with them I get antsy.
In the last couple of weeks I absorbed a collection of records from my friend Shannon that highlight why I like having all this aging and soon to be (if not already) obscure equipment around the house. The records were relics from her folks and brothers. In the pile (around 70 records of various vintage and widely ranging condition) there were three real treasures. Two were 78 rpm discs of her Dad singing. He was dabbling with music degree early in his college career. The other was an LP on which her very recently deceased brother had played. I was able to translate the 78s to digital, but I have to hold off on the LP. My cd burner* is in a bad way and I am hoping to replace it soon. So the times I sit and look at that stack of obtuse dinosaurs that make up the mixing equipment and wonder why I spend so much effort with an arm in the past have a balance in events like this.
*I am intrigued by the idea that I’ve seen the entire cycle of home audio cd burners come and go being both an early adopter (’97 with a first generation Philips single speed burner) and now late to give it up (Tascam CDRW900 that needs replacement with a mkII version).
There has also been a recent spike in interest in what I know about records. I’m not exactly sure why but I do like helping by knowing the good weird stuff.
Discovered early this week that there is a mouse, possibly several, living in the garage. At least they aren’t in the house. I also discovered that if I want to use the box joint jig that I got last Christmas for my router that I need to buy two router bits. It says so right on the damn box and has all this last year. Sigh.
This year I thought I had gift giving solved in a beautiful way. My plan was to make charitable donations for folks to causes that I thought would be meaningful to them. Turns out this idea of less commercial excess, less aggravation over both list production and retrieval, less crap to find a place for, and (most importantly) the chance to do good, is almost impossible to pull off. It feels a bit like a chapter out of a Kafka novel. Next year I figure I either have to be aggressive to the point of undoing the hoped for ease of the experience or just keep my mouth shut altogether. I’m sure there is a lesson in all of this for me but it has yet to sink in.
How about a strange little song I put together by special request that fits the holiday season? Who Gave That Kids So Many Drums?
And lastly, an old picture I took that I like.