I recorded the music back in the summer of 2001 when I went on a shopping spree and was trying out new toys. In this case, the Warwick fretless bass was new, the Korg Triton keyboard was new, and the Roland VS2480 recorder was new. 

The keyboard part was the first improvised bit of nonsense, then the drums and bass. It all sat for 20 years and nary a new idea emerged till I started finding these outrageous dudes spouting seeming nonsense but kind of after my own wordplaying heart.

Circular Logical Fallacy

This was on a draft CD of Receiving's running order. I'd forgotten about it as a contender for that project. It was recorded much earlier, and is a standalone track from early 1998 with cameo additions in June of that year. Receiving did not become a concept until over a year later, but tracks were turning up where this became a plausible inclusion.

It's based on a DAT tape of totally improvised drumming done by Bryan "Nucci" Cantrell, and sometimes he and I playing at once. In those days I'd have to record drums at other places because I was not in a living situation where that was possible. So a tape like that was mined for any fragments I could loop or otherwise use with my VS880. 

I did a number of instruments including bass, electric sitar, electric guitar, organ early in the track, and the vocal, and things probably sat for a while. When my new room Hog Heaven became available, Tom Griesgraber was the first guest who played the guitar solo at the end of this. In the same visit he played guitar and bass on my joke song Missy the Cow. Weeks later Marc Ziegenhagen of Mike Keneally's band was in town and I pestered him to play the organ solo over the transition in this track, and the honky tonk piano in Missy. (The absurdity of two Berklee grads playing this stuff amuses me.)

[de-ceiving] Accomplice

A collection of band and solo recordings from the last part of 2000 until about early 2004.

Race To Judge 2004

Labyrinth

Tom Cruise Can't Outact An Olive

Weaknesses Of Love

The Velvet Gentleman

Beyond Me

When Robots Dance

No Place For Shadows To Hide

Clouds In Counterpoint

TAPKAE means The Artist Presently Known As Ed

I was born at a very young age.

I'm from San Diego, and so far I have never lived more than ten miles from where I was born. For a San Diegan, some would be surprised to find I never go to the beach. Likewise, I never go to Mexico if I can help it—not even to be a drunken teenager—though at the age of 21 I did drive four hot chicks there and got into every club for free (a lot of good that did me). Instead of being a drunken teenager, at the age of 16 I participated in a Martin Buber study group which prepared me for naming my dog 18 years later. I've smashed drum kits, printers, stereos, televisions, plastic models, bicycles, and bottles—something that I later deemed unnecessary since our universe is expanding, which means there will be more space between me and all those things that drive me crazy. I once ate too many chocolate chip cookies on a dare to impress a friend. He stopped being my friend after that (well, twelve years later or so), but I am such a fan of cookies I don't regret my cookie indiscretions. I play a mean Dsus2 chord on a Stratocaster. As a stage tech, I have been photographed extensively and populate the photo albums and home videos of people from around the world. I am big in Japan. I once rode my bike so fast I temporarily left the world in which I live, and achieved nirvana but you won't hear me talk about that much because I never really liked them much. My friend riding alongside me fell off and smashed his face in the pavement on the day after Christmas. He achieved a good place in line at the ER. I've used drugs, but only to make the world adhere better to my vision of perfection and to help my demons leave me by projectile sneezing. I was a criminal in second grade, but have since paid my debt to society, a nickel at a time. (Accounting for inflation, that would now be closer to a $20 bill at a time.) I have played a six-string bass with an air compressor. I later found the technique to be too clumsy and have since used an Ebow. I never smoked a cigarette. I tell timeless tales using only one syllable words. I bend sound mercilessly using my mouth and other body parts. I breathe light in and exhale gold vapor. I tell Jewish jokes to the Pope and he rolls on the floor laughing, probably because my knowledge of such jokes is eclipsed by his own from his days when he used to be a Nazi. I eat hamburgers made from sacred cows and tip the cows that aren't so sacred. I save the world daily, but it constantly runs away before the news crew gets here to film me doing so. I am the quintessential American, but smarter than many in power. Old ladies like me. Cats lick my hands on the first meeting. I am a budding expert in many things, not least of which is kama sutra sex. I play drums so loud God asks me to turn it down. I use elementary words and concepts around Republicans. I still write in whole sentences to piss off people who send text messages. I drink beer to impress friends and wine to act civilized around the dog—something that isn't too hard considering that habit he has as a result of natural prehensile flexibility. I spend my days contemplating the virtues of nakedness in public, and my nights realizing such dreams. I dream in H.R. GigerVision sometimes. M.C. Escher taught me to play guitar. I properly refer to the plural of "house" as "hice" and the singular of "rice" as "rouse." I sweet talked my way through my senior year in high school but never kissed the teachers. My head is sometimes in the clouds, my feet sometimes on the ground, my hands are in the cookie jar, but generally, my heart is in the right place, but that isn't in San Francisco, even as nice a town as that is. I have an IQ of 137, but failed algebra all through school. Now that I don't need to do math for a grade, I almost enjoy it, but that would almost be stretching the truth, and I'd never do that.

TAPKAE/Receiving

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