Machine: oil low

[quantum]

gears, belts, and bearings... how they cry out.

A little something from the improv work I've been doing in the last few months. 

[ted]

You are a born impressionist; the image is splendidly scarifying and so is the music. For some reason I am reminded of Ives's "Celestial Railroad" and the similar passage in his fourth symphony where the locomotive starts up. Or perhaps the unforgettably sinister introduction to the movie, "The Elephant Man". No joyful contemplation of beneficent, smooth efficiency here, no mechanised utopia, but an unstoppable engine of infernal condemnation, grinding remorselessly onwards.

On the abstract musical level, I seem to detect a stronger coherence in the transition between cells than I did in your earlier playing, although this might simply be a reflection of my own increased perception of dynamic form over the last few months. After all, musical experience and meaning require a mind as well as sound; we ourselves are part of the experiment, as it were. We can alter how and what we play, but we can also change how we internally perceive what we hear and play. Most musicians I know expend enormous effort in the former cause and totally ignore the latter.

Thanks for posting more of your improvisation, the place wouldn't be the same without it.