I received numerous telegraphs yesterday inquiring as to the success of our performance at the 5 Spot Thursday evening; too many, in fact, to respond singly.  Therefore, I will tell the tale now since we are all gathered here in one place.  Allow me to dim the lamp-light.

It was a chilly Thursday evening just like any other, yet it held the quintessence of spring – that unspoken enthusiasm which accompanies new life.  The New Transcendentalists and I had congregated in my chamber to rehearse for the evening’s event.  As we are engaged in a ceaseless course of experimentation, it was apparent that this night’s performance would have its own individual stamp.  Most notably, it would be the first live performance for us with the pump organ.  Mr. Wallace was playing this beast of an instrument, and conveniently it fit perfectly into his Volkswagen van.  I must admit that it did seem a bit mad to haul this 120 year old piece of beautiful antique furniture to such a dank establishment as the 5 Spot, but my curiosity to see and hear it in a public context overpowered my trepidations.  Just the visual of it sitting in Mr. W’s ‘vintage’ van provided a hilarious contrast!  We wrestled this imposing instrument through the rock-club’s façade and up to its temporary resting place on the stage where it caused everything in its modern surroundings to look like science-fiction.  Eventually, The New Transcendentalists joined it on-stage and balanced things out nicely.

We started the set with ambience, fading into As the Storm Rolls In.  It was a perfect example of how an image is characterized by its background.  My immediate impression was that our set was going to come off as strikingly down-tempo and moody in this setting.  In such a moment, there is a detrimental instinct to compensate for this contrast, but in awareness we stayed the course.  I have long been of the mind that the things which strike us as odd about a performance are the very things that are impressed into our minds.  We may perhaps be uncomfortable with these feelings at first but they will eventually draw us further in.  Those performances which are immediately recognizable will just as instantly be forgotten.  Therefore, I carry this logic into my own performances, surrendering any need for congruency.  When I have amused myself, I can honestly say that the performance was a success – and it was!  The New Transcendentalists performed …well, transcendently!  A talented fellow named Mr. Jamie Dick was sitting-in for Mr. P. on percussion.  His playing was wonderful as was that of the lovely Ms. D.  Add the swirling ambience of Mr. G. on lap steel combined with that of Mr. W. on pump organ and a dream like atmosphere was created.  Our set lasted the better part of an hour, easing along like the melding scenes of a reverie.  I was wholly satisfied.

For making this memorable evening possible, I extend my warmest appreciations to the staff of the 5 Spot, as well as Mr. Wallace who booked our appearance.  I am also grateful to each of The New Transcendentalists for the contribution of His/Her unique talents.  Moreover, I whole-heartedly thank those attentive handfuls of music-lovers who participated in the magic of the evening.  It was a truly pleasurable experience for me and I do hope it was for you!

Your friend,
Mr. H.

In light of the prior week-end’s musical discoveries and with a giant leap of pecuniary faith, I have decided to abruptly alter the course of our recording project.  The New Transcendentalists have elicited the assistance of an alchemist named Mr. Joe McMahan.  It is he who produced my previous release Radio Noise, as well as recordings by Kevin Gordon, Jennifer Niceley, Mike Farris, The Altered Statesmen, Peter Bradley Adams, Claire Small, Joe and Vicki Price, and countless others.  He has also contributed to up-coming releases by Kurt Wagner of Lambchop and a highly-anticipated new Kevin Gordon record.  We have set a tentative date in March to record at a world-class facility in Nashville named The House of David. 

The rendition of As the Storm Rolls In that you’re hearing is a selection from our recent pre-production session.  As is the nature of experimentation, it is not without flaws, but I believe it to also contain moments of magic which can only occur from the synergy created by the interplay of inspired individuals.  In comparison, the sound of compounding individual performances has produced lack-luster results. We must set-out to catch lightning in a bottle – capture the magic of the eternal moment!  I hope you enjoy this fleeting moment of creative process.  It is sure to become even more saturated with the spirit of Unity.

Your humble servant,
Mr. H.

[Saturday]

After several long months of meticulous calculation, rigorous experimentation, and implementation of the resulting scientific philosophies; I was able to uncover the quantum equivalent of the feeling of spring.  I placed this elusive feeling into an advanced particle accelerator (the human heart) and alas, spring is manifest!  Just as in my hypothesis – warmth, hope, and good cheer are ubiquitous and abound!  My colleagues are sure to be shocked and awed by this revolutionary feat of science, which should guarantee me a place among the luminaries!  Assuredly, my name shall be listed in scholastic texts and journals of metaphysics forevermore – as the ‘Benefactor of Spring’.

[Sunday]

As it turns out, my findings were inconclusive.  Upon boasting to my fellow scientists, each insisted that he himself was the Creator, and had likewise been applying his consciousness to the upheaval of the winter.  This is most troubling.  Can they not see that I am the One – have they no perspective?!  And as if it were not trifling enough, these men are so bold as to go about enjoying the fruits of my labors!  Yea, I have seen each of them taking long leisurely strolls out-of-doors, and musing on park-benches with a pretentious air of magnanimity.  It is much to my dismay that I myself cannot bask in this light of victory.  I must immure myself within the stone walls of my laboratory until such time as I can prove irrefutably that I have discovered the Key to the Seasons.  If my calculations are correct, I will have done so by the epoch of November. 

 Mr. J.S. Hazelwood

I must make a confession.  In my recent testimony of solitude, I did make some slight factual omissions for the purpose of literary aesthetic.  In truth, there was a hootenanny of sorts that took place within these walls only two nights ago.  Its participants were the members of the ensemble James Wallace and the Naked Light – a fine band of fellows with whom I have been contributing my skills as percussionist.  Mr. Wallace himself is someone I consider a kindred soul, possessing an uncommonly inventive mind and a singular capacity for weaving abstract concepts together with his quirky sense of humor.  I highly recommend splurging to acquire his debut album entitled I Smile All Day I Smile All Night.  Upon hearing it the first time, I could not help but remark that this is a delightfully odd fellow, with an unusually busy mind – not unlike myself.  One can almost hear the squeaking of a hamster-wheel in the quiet moments of his music – the sound of cerebral unrest, accompanied by heightened pulmonary rhythm.  Ergo, when Mr. W. invited me to lend my services as antiquarian percussionist, I was naturally as excited as a rabid fan being selected from the front row. 

For a number of years I have passively sought-out an appropriate situation for my percussive aesthetic.  To generalize my concept, it is to use various antique instruments in my collection as well as other time-worn objects not-intended for musical facility, to stir-up emotions which have lay dormant in the human heart for nigh a century.  I have long-hypothesized there are no ‘good’ sounds or ‘bad’ sounds, but only those which serve to conjure one’s intended emotion.  In Hamlet, Shakespeare wrote “There is nothing either good or bad – but thinking makes it so”.  Mainstream modern music seems to have agreed-upon a grossly-limited palate of generally accepted ‘good’ sounds.  i.e.  Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green – as in the most basic box of crayons.  But when some ‘visionary’ introduces an orange or a purple, it is avant-garde in comparison.  Hark!  What about the infinite shades of blue in the sky?  Yea, every blade of grass is in proud-display of its own unique hue of green!  I believe that the American Idolists would reduce us to a nation of apathetes, streamlining our emotions to be counted on the fingers of the bank-teller!  But alas, we are sentient beings, with emotional complexities far beyond the comprehension of the analyst.

In awareness that the continuance of this rant could serve no Good, I return to my originally-intended purpose of gratitude and respect-for the creative works of Mister James Wallace – who in following his vision (not necessarily in the spirit of contempt) is helping to stretch the limits of the status-quo.  There are plans currently underway for a split-bill to include J.W. and band (myself on percussion), Mr. H. (Mr.W on pump organ), and perhaps a mystery guest performer.  I will alert you of the details of this event as-soon-as they are known to me.

Between The Blue
and The Green,
There Lies the Good-
Mr. Hazelwood

Come in, come in!  My valet will take your coat and hat.  I received the note that you were going to call and I have been eagerly anticipating our visit.  Can I offer you some tea….or some coffee perhaps?  I got into the habit of drinking the stuff during a recent sojourn in Paris.  Please!, take a seat. 

You may have noticed that I have some music broadcasting  from the parlor.  These new contrivances are a thing of wonder!  I picked up this device at last year’s World’s Fair.  It can play records without any cranking whatsoever! And to my astonishment, it can flip the record on its very own as well!  Edison has really outdone himself this time.  I shall have to call and congratulate him.  I shall have to call Alex Bell too!

You may be suprised to know that the music you are hearing is none other than my own.  Yes, that is a large portrait of me on the wall as well.  I am, no doubt, a man uncommonly fond of himself.  But let me assure you, there is more than vanity at play here.  My dear friend, there is a method to my madness!  What you are hearing is a sound-recording of a recent rehearsal for the making of my up-coming release.  It is a coarse rendition of what is to come. In expectation of your arrival I purposely started the record as to gauge your response.  You are aware that I am a bachelor and that I spend countless hours with none other than my own company.  Furthermore, an antiquary such as myself can have no clue as to the vogue of the day.  You, my friend, have superior taste and would do me a great service by imparting your honest opinion of these rough sketches of a would-be self-portrait.  How do they strike you then? Go on….   [ Listen ]

It is a frigid night here in the old manse. I and my armchair have danced one another across the length of the study to draw in closer to the fire. At this proximity I am now and again singed by an escaping ember, but otherwise I am quite content with my situation. Hypnotized by the elegant choreography of the flames and the burning question “what is fire?”, I meanwhile have one of my compositions running its verses and choruses in a circle throughout the entirety of my consciousness. It is a philosophical piece entitled Live Forever which I penned around this time last year. I having discounted it many months ago, it has recently resurfaced in the odd way that songs often want to do. In this case, it is perhaps because the emotions from which it was born are systematically evoked by Old Man Winter. Nonetheless, it has in the past few days been the object of my fancy.

Yesterday morning I arose in particularly high spirits. It had been my intention, prior, to make of it a ‘recording day’ and so I did. I drew the curtains and silenced the telephone, sealing my intention to be undisturbed and beginning right away with Live Forever. It is important to note, by the way, that this session was part of the pre-production process for the making of my upcoming release. Since I am working mostly alone, it is a crucial step in the process because it allows me to experiment with various arrangements, production techniques, and nuances in performance; giving me the ability to listen-back with objectivity. In the way that the audio recording of one’s speaking voice can vary in timbre from the way one hears it in his own head, so is there often a great dissimilarity between the recorded and imagined versions of a song. In my experience, it can be quite humbling or even disheartening to be confronted by this divergence. With persistence, however, I have found that it is a gap which eventually can close through a combination of will and acceptance. I know that I am not prepared to move forward on the final rendition of a song until this does happen. Yesterday with Live Forever, to recklessly mis-quote Maslow, this ‘peak experience’ did finally occur.

I began by strategically placing microphones throughout my great room so as to capture not only my instrument and voice but also the characteristic ambience of this hallowed place. I sat in a chair and performed in a manner dictated by my mood (I have found it futile to attempt to do otherwise). What resulted was a solid solo performance of the tune, not magical necessarily, but acceptable for my purposes. Previously I had set up one of my antique drum kits in anticipation of this session, and so I shifted straight to the mind-set of percussionist. This was the part which was at the center of this experiment. Could I actualize the rhythmic element of my mental sound-image? When I began to play, it was apparent to me (both on and off wax) that I was badly out of practice. I spent the next hour or so devising a part and rehearsing. When I was ready I continued with the awkward and seemingly unnatural process of playing music with myself. In preservation of that topic for some future Journal entry, I will move on by saying it was a success! After a lengthy process of trial and error, I rendered a part that was very much to my liking. The essence of this song which had spent the better part of a year lodged in some shadowy nook within my mind was now coming into light. Dear God!….IT’S ALIVE! I wasn’t crazy all along…..!

In conclusion, I have assimilated enough data to move forward on the mass-production of this invention. It fills the basic criteria of a worthwhile product in that it a) is something entirely new b) satisfies a basic need c) is for the common good of mankind d) rocks. Now on to the next experiment: Does sleep actually obviate delusions?

Mister H