Got out of work early today, so I had time to record this: a final blast of utter impersonality for 2011, in convenient (digital) 7 inch form. Happy new year, everyone! Let's see more of each other in the coming months.
Just in time for the end of 2011, here are not one but two new EPs: the tasteful and understated Labor Palace, and the emotionally unavailable Dungeon Breathing 2. Take them both home today! DB2 also answers the prayers of every one of you who has ever asked "John, when will you stretch one of these songs out to over 12 minutes in length?" You're welcome.
Also, I am playing in New York City at the Cakeshop on Thursday December 22nd, with the fine Teenbeat act Cotton Candy. First of hopefully many performances of this type of music in the near future. Mention this ad to me for a free drink.
After a few weeks off to think about things, try to set out some new guidelines for the next year of this project, get my head together, etc., there was finally an hour to spare and I recorded this EP exactly the same way I have been.I'm still looking forward to working on some different projects, with a few collaborators, doing more composition, etc., but it's hard to deny the immediacy of solo improvisation. The frequency and lack of money involved make these EPs more conversational to me than epic statements of overarching authorial intent, which I do strongly feel is something that is useful in the world today. Not that I haven't been obsessed with "Moves Like Jagger" (in spite of my dislike of all but the disco-era Rolling Stones). Sayin.
The end of the end of the first part of this project, this EP is the completion of a one-year attempt to record and release as many improvised performances as possible, operating completely outside of the commercial arena, solely for the purpose of making music. I haven't promoted it at all, or allowed anyone to pay for any of it; to me these occupy a different space than "records", in the sense that they often make more sense in the background, and are more conversational than they are some kind of pre-planned artistic statement. If you like it, you can listen to it, without a lot of overhead.
I recorded every one of these pieces in my bedroom during the one hour of the week when nobody is at home. There's no mixing, no overdubbing or editing, not even changing the order of the tracks; what you hear is pretty much exactly what happened during that time period, except for technical glitches and stuff like that.
The next phase of the project will involve less frequent releases, changing some of the variables, and going back to performing this type of music live again, after a very long hiatus. See you soon.
As we approach the one year mark for this blog and the parallel bandcamp site, there is an inevitable desire to try to keep doing exactly the same thing until this cycle is over, to cement some kind of overarching authorial intent and thereby add a sense of legitimacy to the proceedings.
Unfortunately, I didn't. So there ended up being an actual straight-up (if extremely restrained) version of "Just Friends" on here; I started playing, and that came out instead of some other crazy experimental jibber-jabber. Hope that's okay with everyone.
(Also, the Real Talk on here isn't a cover of the amazing R. Kelly song, but rather an interpretation of some real talk that was going on out on the street outside my window as I started recording. Which is a damn shame.)
Of course, there are many things future generations will say about this EP;
groundbreaking in its uncompromising refusal to compromise, except when compromise is indicated, etc. But I'm sure it will always be known as the one where I cover "Filhos de Gandhi". I could write an entire book about all the things I love the Jorge Ben/Gilberto Gil version of this song from "Jorge and Gil": the way they are so clearly super high and making it up in the studio; the way they manage to get separated on even the super simple chord pattern and it doesn't matter; the way that they reach the point where normal people jamming would be like "cool, let's go ahead and end it here", bring it down, and then they decide to bring it back for like another five minutes. Probably nobody other than me who likes that version will like this version, but let the record show that it's done out of love.
As Rakim said, it's been a long time. Although, and no disrespect to the God, not as long as he made people wait for The 18th Letter. This was only like two and a half months. That being said, I like to think of this EP as occupying a similar position in my own canon.
It also bears mentioning that, despite the release date, the title actually has nothing to do with September 11th.