eoI 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.