I brought an MD recorder and a stereo mic down to Central America with me and got a good amount of field recordings/soundscapes/what have you … now, on the rainy forefront of Spring in VT, I’m two weeks back alongside the jungle above Turrialba waiting for a bus to start moving, then in a loud empty disco discussing cheese with a tico, then running from monkeys somewhere between Cahuita and Puerto Viejo … the cold rhythm of coins and the wheezy rumble of old Volvo trucks and hacking buses … friends speaking then clamming up upon seeing the mic … vendors barking … birds fighting one another for the space within our ears .…
So that’s what I’m listening to, but it’s another world out there now. Rob Zombie’s got a slasher film out and some former US general’s in charge of Iraq. People still say their prayers but I can barely stay awake and it’s only 6:30pm. We get old and fishtail like Vandross while Dangerfield can spend 20 years freebasing and still come the other side. Picture yourself on a boat on a river that’s dried up to a mere trickle…
As promised, that’s me on the right, with very much the same haircut I currently have.
