A fairly good story

A fairly good story

This juxtaposition of the metaphysical with the mundane – more on that, because in a way it's the crux of the whole quest, this quest for wholeness, for congruence, for coherence, for cohesion, for safety, for stability, for equilibrium, for big-perspective wisdom, for feeling loved by existence, and probably above all, for loving existence each and every moment, no matter the tone or content of the action occurring.

We live not in a binary, either-or reality, we live in a non-dual this-and-that reality – the binary bit is just a model us humans have been adhering to faithfully and unquestioningly since at least Renee Descartes popped up and set the scene.

In fact that's a contradiction in terms because if we don't live in a binary this-or-that reality, then we must also live in a binary either-or reality , as in non-binary and binary.

But that brief gratuitous, how-jolly-damn-thoughtful-and-interesting, chortle-chortle intellectual foray aside, what I'm more interested in is how the two, the metaphysic and mundane interplay.

To wit, by example, two weeks ago I went to England primarily, aside from seeing people I had to see, to listen to Volume 2 of AMPED in my car – it's common among anyone producing muic of any sort to check the mixes in the car – there are many theories as to why this is the most efficient way but thats for another day, suffice it to say that I was shocked at how out I'd been in terms of quiet/loud voice levels, kick drum over-pounding, and bass saturation. Realizing I had at least two more weeks work to do, bearing in mind this is a near 6 hours worth of highly complex sound requiring acute concentration and sensitivity to hit that fabled sweet spot, something I consider a necessity with headphone music especially headphone music that heals and deals you a new hand of cards altogether in terms of managing destiny (must remember that line) – I reluctantly cancelled a trip to LA and yet happily (because I love it) came back to Spain to set to work in the studio.

However – and here's where the yin and yang of it all becomes quite amusing – though being here is a necessity because of the studio, I don't have a car here because I don't need one. And so having done the first round of corrections I rented a car from the local rentacar.

Issue was the speakers were placed so far down on the door panels it messed with the sound and took a while to acclimatize to. This was going to be 6 hours of driving around at best – but getting used to the sound took about 30 minutes so we're now up to 6.5 hours. Next surprise was finding out if I stopped the engine to put fuel in or what-have-you, the track started again at the beginning – and these are hour long tracks.

But that's OK, you'd think – just press fast forwards. So I did. Next surprise was that having spent interminable minutes pressing down hearing the sound judder along to the bit I wanted, as soon as I released the pressure, it went back to the top again.

We're now up to about 8 hours.

Making scribbled notes – don't tell anyone – praying I'd be able to read my writing – I could as it goes, by sheer fluke – you might still think, all's well.

I mean you'd be a spoilt brat to complain, driving about in the mountains of Andalusia on a brilliant blue sky day eyes swamped in majestic beauty from all angles.

Trouble was I really really needed to stop to get some food and water or I was going to pass out.

But I actually couldn't.

Not because I'm a crazed self-starvation masochist – or at least certainly not by conscious choice – oh yes I omitted to mention I had to get to the hospital that night to get fixed up from these two huge spider bites that had started making holes in my legs, hence why I didn't have time to mess about.

And bear in mind listening critically to six hours of any music, let alone anything this detailed requiring total focus or there's no point bothering, is a proper challenge – even when it;s this good (pardon me, couldn't resist it), in fact especially so.

Just too much.

Great bit was right at the end of the ordeal, just before dropping the car back so I could get to the hospital – mission accomplished, fairly desperate for amenities and refreshments – and to stand up straight and not be driving, I turn up my little street and some f*cker blocks me in, forcing me to reverse this massive 4x4 about 100 meters with but a few centimetres either side.

And it was that moment, as I considered just leaving it where it was and walking away, down to the sea and keep walking like I never happened in the first place, I realised this mad reversing feat was my only choice.

No plug this, but that's when I realised how powerful tis volume 2 of AMPED is – it took no more than half a nanosecond before every trace of panic or self-pity was gone and I was out the pit and back in the light – if you consider emergency departments as being back in the light.

I do as it happens for aside from the horrid glaring white light of the fluorescent strip lights, it's where I'm most likely to enjoy the most profound perspective – not that I'd recommend it unless essential.

Point of it all being watching how something as apparently innocuous combined with having a relatively essential mission of doing the mix checks, with a time limit on account of the possibility of dying from blood poisoning, can potentially place a person in such danger, yet how at that time an unseen hand is so patently present in proceedings.

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