filtering memories into the future

a little more than a year ago, I lived two floors down from four rather amazing boys. talented. gracious. friendly.

a little more than a year ago, I interviewed them, dreamed up a glamorous alternate reality for them, and wrote an article about their not-so authentic musical group, Stridency Deletion, for one of my final assignments in Dr. Hailey's class. it was a piece of writing I am particularly proud of. I recently revised the thing and made sure to spell everyone's name right in it. I promised the drummer I'd print him a copy of the thing all laid out pretty with photographs... but I never did. i'll make up for that someday.

a little more than a year ago, these four boys and several of their neighboring friends congregated in their third-floor apartment--number 6. nearly every musical instrument you could ask for was brought. a cello. drum kit. three or four guitars, a violin, accordion, recorder, and a penny whistle.

and Richard just happened to have a small recording device.

on the CD I am lucky enough to have a copy of, the sound quality is not so perfect. it's not easy to distinguish which instruments are playing all the time. the rhythms sometimes blend and sometimes clash. it's just a jam session.

there are seven tracks, a few repeat versions of the same song.

{ more pictures, courtesy ms. mitchell }

my favourite part about listening to this haphazard, imperfect recording are the moments when the music falls apart and the boys talk. 'I can't get that key,' the violinist complains. 'Wait, play that part again,' the guy on the bass guitar asks, trying to figure out the chord progression. I remember all those voices. I remember being in that room on similar occasions, drinking in the wild, powerful music as each musician threw it out. Beatles' songs. hymns. random noise.

a little more than a year ago. and so much has happened since then.

I think I see where I'm going. but I can't really know what I might have missed, what I might miss by taking the path I'm taking versus another completely different one. I just hope.

I hope that CD is still around when I get back.