Oh dear

It’s rare that I get any real inspiration from dreams, but it happens. Dreams are “brain processing stuff it didn’t have time to handle while you were awake and it’s not your brain’s fault if it gets the details a bit fuzzy.” Yesterday I took delivery of some new music gear that will be reviewed in an upcoming issue of RECORDING, and was discussing it with my good friend Mark Mosher (whose blog Modulate This! is essential reading for anyone who gives a damn about this stuff and wants to read stuff from someone else who gives a damn about this stuff), and earlier I had been reading another friend’s blog that had an interesting war story about an old club where he’d been gigging that had an ancient lit-from-below dance floor that caused all manner of havoc in the PA, and then I went to sleep and the conversation and the blog post conflated with a memory of an old Michael Jackson video…

I woke up in a cold sweat at 215 AM, grabbed my phone, and mumbled a few words into my voice recorder, fell back asleep, and found the note when I woke up again this morning. I was simultaneously terrified and elated…

I now know what I’m going to be doing for my September 20 show at La Vita Bella. Be afraid. Be very afraid…



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