Album Notes

"Music is what happens between the Notes..." I woke up on the floor of the studio; groggily I checked my watch. Seven am. Why on earth was I here? I was still wearing head phones. I had deep earphone ruts running around my poor old ears. Past events slowly started bubbling to the surface of my memory; it was all starting to come back to me now--I had literally mixed until I had dropped; the night went on almost a full day. Time really has no meaning in the studio, unless you talk about musical time. Hours are days are weeks are years. I had problems that night—techie stuff, minutia. Not artistic problems. File formats; conversions. BS. It seems some nights the electrons dance, and others it’s nuclear fission. I remember being very proud of the final result—I wondered how it would sound RIGHT NOW. Well it just HAD to sound good--that’s all there was to it. I break the rules of mixing, using phones. All the sound snobs will tell you that it’s a definite no no. Bull. Listen to the album—you be the judge. After the mix I’ll throw it on some speakers and give it a whirl. When you listen to gman music you are listening to a headphone mix. I break a lot of rules in the studio, can’t tell you why other than I do things by the way they feel. I suppose I have a smidgen of radical resistance left over from the ‘70’s. I played the song back. “Purple smoky starlight fills the night…”. Centrifunkal force—track number two. I listened for two things—balance and clarity. It was sounding so good. I wanted a full acoustic guitar sound in this one, and an almost live feel to it. The song is about this guy who is alienated in this city of 5 million people. He seeks comfort in a gentleman’s club where he is smitten by a dancer. He likens her to a butterfly and in his mind urges her to “fly away; don’t look down, at us poor souls anchored to the ground.” Give it a listen will ya? Centrifunkal Force Purple smoky starlight fills the night Seedy men with watered whiskey wait in line. There’s a girl who drifts ‘n dances, rides a pole, she makes advances Dances round and round and round again. Mojo bag on a string hanging from my heart. Laying low in the shadows, I'm playin’ it smart. Flashing neon runway, she takes off on her soiree. Drunk on the skin of her smooth bourbon skin. Why am I so alone? Five million people call this city their home. Desperate people disconnected, disengaged, and dejected seek secrets of the night. Round ‘n round she goes Where she stops no-one knows. I can’t get off, can’t stay the course. She's spinning round, without remorse Caught in her Centrifunkal Force Fly away Butterfly fly-fly so high. Spread your wings please take to the sky. Don’t look back, don’t look down, upon us poor souls anchored to the ground. Fly away Butterfly fly-fly away ________________________________________ It was time for breakfast. I hastily burned a quick-n-dirty copy of the album for the car; the car is my final playback chamber. If it sounds good in the car—it’s as they say “a print”. As I cruised on my mind drifted into thoughts and feelings about the making of G-force, the writing of the pieces and the performance of the album. I thought about Barker. Bob Barker is a great friend of mine who had inspired several of the songs on the album. He took me on research assignment for Centrifunkal Force, and inspired the premise for Miracle on Fourth Street.