A K A I ?
Summer of 1978. In the distance, high school graduation was rearing it's ugly head at me. I kept hearing a voice cry from the pool skimmer, "Now fool, it's time for you to go out in the real world and fend for your miserable little self". For me, that meant college, which wasn't real. I had the next four years ahead of me to figure out how and where I could fit in the GREAT SOCIETY without feeling like I had to go to a McDonalds and shoot a bunch of innocent folks. The future had something to do with music, but what? I didn't have a clue. Disco was at it's plastic peak. "Farrah Fawcett Leaking Majors" who actually turned into a "serious" actress had her TV perfect body plastered in every locker, sports store, stationary, boy scout's pup tent, underwear etc, while every true American was only concerned with one cosmic question: WHO SHOT J.R.? Designer jeans like the ubiquitous Jordache™ label were just creeping in along side an oil crisis loaded with hostage material. A thing called NEW WAVE MUSIC was happening and just waiting for it's mommy (MTV ) to be born. Bigger video stores started popping up next to pizza joints and many of my favorite rock stars were turning 40... Basically, nothing in particular up our dress. At least for me.

CRAWLING TO THE RED ROOM...
I was hell bent on writing music but the simple process of recording more than two parts and hearing it back instantly seemed like light years a w a y. The stuff I wrote out on paper was theoretical bullshit that I couldn't persuade anyone to play. I didn't have the proper grasp on what I really wanted to hear until I started bouncing musical ideas from one mono "NORELCO" cassette deck to the deck in my Wurlitzer organ and back. This was exciting for about a month. I quickly decided there had to be a cheap, more efficient way of recording without having to be a millionaire. A day later, my high school chum Chris Pati introduced me to a device called an Akai GX - 4000 D sound on sound tape machine. In fact, it was in his tiny, red bedroom studio downstairs where the recording virus really infected me. I can still recall the distinct aroma of this room :

Funky, sweaty, mammy- flappy, swoopyjackieslittyclittymatted, frenzy pinky stinky cummy, inspiration / perspiration, Italiano grease ball out of tune musty ol' school piano cheese vinyl with more funkypoopy clinging to ya face and hot poster babes pinned on the carpeted walls.... FUNK!)

Well, Chris played me some nice tune he wrote, recorded and over dubbed using the Akai. He achieved a superb blend of four or five instruments. Not only that, the performance was way out of control! It sounded like a record. I was so depressed. I went home and immediately went to sleep or suicide would have ensued. When I woke up and realized it wasn't a dream, I was still depressed but totally inspired and excited. I HAD TO HAVE ONE OF THOSE AKAI THINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A few days later, Chris and I drove around and found a TASCAM 2 TRACK that was more than half price off. It was a Harrison Electronics' floor model. The fidelity was better than the AKAI, so we went for it. I was one happy human, but in an innocent, joyful way, (a feeling that eludes me more and more the older I get.) As soon as I brought it home, the motor started to slow down and my father yelled at me: "NEVER BUY A DEMONSTRATION MODEL YA JERK YA!" (I think I convinced him to pay for it.) We quickly returned my missing link and for three hundred bucks purchased a brand new AKAI. Happy days were here again. That was the last the outside world would see of me for the next 5 years. I recorded for days and days with the aid of my cheap "REALISTC" microphone I bought at "RADIO SHATS". I WAS INFECTED WITH OVERDUB VIRUS. THERE WAS NO TURNING BACK. A new era in my life began. The machine lasted for about a year. I broke it while trying to record a wicked choking fit (last piece on this CD). I was in a totally steamy, grotesque, bizzaro kind of world, jumping up and down and goin' ape on this deliberately evil tune, when in a quick spasm, stepped on the microphone cable pulling the AKAI forward and off my bureau. It crashed three feet face down. Time stood still for a few seconds and then a foul taste shot in my mouth. All of a sudden the absurdity of the machine and my dependence on it for ultimate earthly happiness became clear. I shuddered, took a deep breath, cleared away my tears and proceeded to estimate the damage. The hub wheels were completely bent. Shattered plastic was everywhere, dents - really screwed. With the utmost sincerity and seriousness I told my father my dilemma. I managed to convince him to bring it back to the store. In a very clever fashion (I won't tell you how) he managed to get another one for free. He was good at that kind of stuff. Come to think of it, I must have been really freaked out because he wasn't a big fan of me spending months pounding and screaming away in my stuffy room by myself. He'd always complain that I didn't get enough sun and my social skills were going out the window. Of course he was right; just watch me at a party, UGHHH. But that's what I had to do. It was some sort of twisted form of self actualization / masturbation I guess. I'm not sure. Go ask THE PRIEST! Anyway, I still found room in my busy schedule (which consisted of throwing out the garbage every Tuesday night) to hang out with my buddy Chris. He'd always play me something new he and his brother were working on or they would jam in front of me and I would feel like the most totally inept musician. Every time I'd return home my depression would double but my desire to compose, triple. I subconsciously brushed up on different instruments, exploring their timbrel combinations and problems inherited in recording them. Here are the key instruments I had to work with back then:

1. A BLACK FIBERGLASS PEARL DRUM SET
I bought it with the money my deceased grandmother left me.
Unfortunately, I was never quite comfortable playing it (the toms never
sat right). In the late 80's for lack of rent money, I sold it to my cousin Susan's husband Frank for doodley squat.

2. THE LEGENDARY WURLITZER FUN MAKER ORGAN with it's rotating Leslie speaker. It had a cheap sounding rhythm box that allowed the adventurous musician to mix a 3/4 waltz with a 4/4 rumba beat (Gorgo Twain). It also had this top layer of keys where you could modify these really brittle, corny sounding synth patches. They sounded great when you sped them up on tape and played them in unison with the drums. The foot pedals always got stuck and the “romantic" vibrato always sounded like a tacky radio horror show. The best thing about this keyboard was the built in mono cassette deck that had a pitch control wheel on it.

3. A YAMAHA™ ACOUSTIC GUITAR. I bought it from Chris for twenty bucks. He used to play these ridiculously fast Al DiMeola type riffs on it and then spin it around to get that "leslie organ" effect. The guitar would then be propelled at some vase or piece of Italian furniture with a plastic covering over it. Ten years later when two strings broke I was too poor to buy new ones. So I thought to myself: " Why not take this, negative situation and turn it around?" I re-tuned the remaining four strings in an unorthodox fashion and BANG! A song about alien abduction appeared out of no where. Thus, we have "SPEAK WITHOUT A VOICE AND A MOTIVE TOO". It remains one of my favorite tunes and I can only play it using that old Yamaha devil.

4. A FRENCH MADE CLARINET who's mouth piece always smelled like baby puke. The case for it was so faggy looking I could never be seen carrying it home, especially by the handle. It would mess up my masculinity. When you're young boy in this conservative society, that's a no no. "FUCK THE SOCIETY!", as Mike Crum would shout.

5. Around 1981, I bought a cruddy "TELSTUD" or "TELSCAM" (which ever) BASS GUITAR from a high school acquaintance. The strings were literally an inch and a half off the fret board. I was desperate for some low end (what young boy isn't at that age) and didn't know any better. (PIECE OF SHIT BETTER LEFT UNSOLVED, REALLY.)

6. A WASHBURN electric guitar which stayed in tune for about a fortnight. It didn't matter though, the purple veneer and whammy bar looked like something professional was going on. The small "GORILLA" amp added to the whole "ROCK STAR" effect. It cost me three hundred bucks of my hard earned pay. I used to sit around in Media Services, at the Health Science Center and wheel a slide projector into a class room, lock a few doors, answer the phone once a week and arrogantly shoot rubber bands at my friend Nick DiMauro until he'd retaliate with a bigger box of rubbers. That was the life.

THE BIG PROBLEMS :
Putting together a piece was a pain to perform but easy to realize. First you record the drum part real hot to tape (practically distorted). Then slowly, you get nervous and depressed as you overdub more parts, there by deteriorating the fidelity. If the drums weren't recorded loud enough, by the time you add that bell part that doubles the vocal you weren't able to hear the beat. It really becomes discouraging when most of a recorded part is good except for that one out of tune chorus you sang. Punching in a wrong note in order to correct it was nearly impossible on the AKAI. It makes an annoying click. In this case we'll say that's what gives these early recordings their charm. Lots of clicks. Yeah, OK... If a part was to hard to play, I just took John Pati's advice: "Slow the fuckin' thing down!" (I'd take off the capstan and this would allow me to record at half speed.) Sure it sounded funny when I put it back to regular speed but then again the music was kind of funny like trick shoes. And since I never had privacy (the bedroom door was thin and didn't have a lock), the sound of my voice is compressed (held back) with a heavy, nervous, angry edge to it. There was also a lot of sarcasm in the lyrics. Most of them directed at my college peers and the stupid rituals and trends they would fall for. Basically I had nothing good to say and I was probably very unpleasant to be around. I guess you could say these pieces presented here, represent a time in my life where the EXISTENTIAL UNCERTAINTIES of the universe continually crashed into my brain at every waking moment. Not much has changed, except my senses are now frayed and dulled beyond all recognition. Very little phases me anymore and the shear fun of coming up with a song back then has now settled into a subconscious formula that is sometimes broken by a new environment or conflict... Oh well. I still get a certain charge from it. (See Vance Brescia - C.Pati's surprise party, 1988.) I had no other expectations other than to please myself musically. Sort of like now but totally different.

WHAT ABOUT THESE EARLY YEAR TUNES?
The performances on most of these cuts are in my opinion - average to good, with a gold star for "inspired". I rarely returned to a song once I had something down. Too much of a pain. Also, you'll notice, there's very little kick drum on any track. This is because I had only one microphone. A mixing console with more than one mic input was too scary & complicated to even think about...not to mention the price. What, we're talking a grand or so?...Jesus. That's all the money in the world for a freshmen in college. That would soon change in May of 1984, when I finally bought the Tascam 38 eight track recorder. The funniest aspect of these tunes after having not listened to them for a few years is my voice. I was so influenced by Zappa (NOWHERE TO RUN) and Fagen (YOU’RE GONNA DIE SOMEDAY) it's pathetic. At times it sounds like a lame parody of those guys. I didn't mean it to sound that way, I was just so caught up in their brilliance I emulated it the best I could. Remnants of that voice long ago still pop up in some of my current work. Now a days though, I'm totally aware of it and the Zappa/Fagen voice is a definite word emphasis effect, HONEST. My style of composing has obviously matured since these works or I would have been famous by now. It has in some sense become more commercial, but still remains slightly unpredictable and subconscious. Many of these early songs were written more conceptually as a suite. (The idea of tying things all together has always been my bag. It's no surprise one of my mentors is Frank Zappa.) Unfortunately, there were songs I never found time to stamp down a decent take of i.e. "WE MAY CALL YOU STATUE" or "I'M LOSING MY HEAD", so they sound haphazard. They are included for continuity purposes. One tune, "WASH THE BLOOD WITH THE RAIN" was originally intended for the "CREATURES" suite but no performance of it existed until 1988 so I inserted a bit of the 8 track ending of that piece in order to join The Lighting Seed suit. ("BIG SCREAMING DEAL!", a struggling artist cracks while sweeping the floors at a McDonalds.) Also, a few sampled horn parts and tidbits originally constructed for some of the tunes were added on in stereo just before the final edits and mix down. Digital reverb and massive re-equalization of everything was executed lovingly at the now defunct BACKDOOR RECORDING STUDIOS IN HUNTINGTON STATION NY, (Home of CONTE’S BURGER HAVEN) 1989.

N O T E :
The recordings here in are in no way an indication as to the type of fidelity one can achieve with an AKAI GX 4000-D. IT IS A VERY WELL BUILT MACHINE. I was untrained at the time and much too impatient to work on painting a great sound. The real master of sound on sound recording was Chris Pati . He devised methods of simulating slap back, echo, chorus and other effects without the use of electronics. He also got a drum sound that kicked ass with only two microphones. IT SOUNDED LIKE A RECORD! Unfortunately, his old world Dad carelessly threw out the wonderful 1/4 inch tapes he made and only a few privileged ears probably still remember the genius that went into them. This collection is dedicated to him.

Sincerely :
JT (a mockery of someone’s friend)

P. S.
"Who's that acorn looking kid screaming in a small room by himself, unaware of his own creations as they continually weave the landscape to hold more creations?" "Well, it most certainly isn't you Phillup!... But I think he owes me a lot of money!" "Hand me that spongy wig with the mint spider flaps will ya?"
- The Priest