Fade. It’s a nostalgia album.
It’s about personal memories of my first weekend in Brooklyn, of the birth of my daughter, of meeting my wife, of writing music in the summer of 1991 with my best friend, of my father’s advice, of an overnight drive from Illinois to St. Louis to play a concert, of living in Holland — and then leaving. And, it’s about how I deal with these memories by stuffing them in their own shoebox under my bed, and then taking them out to look at and enjoy every so often.
It’s electronica the way I’ve always wanted to hear it: with live instruments blowing over the changes. It’s jazz the way I’ve always wanted to play it: with electronics weaving their way through the acoustic instruments. It’s classical music the way some people are afraid it’s going: trained musicians leaving “the fold” to work out their muse elsewhere. My friend and colleague, violinist Todd Reynolds makes a guest appearance on “Aftermarket” (he’s the one with the memory of that 1991 summer when we both begain writing electronic music).
This CD is my fourth in 11 years, and in many ways the one I’ve always wanted to make, with my love for pop culture on its sleeve. And, in many ways, it’s an evolution of my last disc “Ten Children,” incorporating melody and simple form as its foundation.