Two bass tracks and vocals...playing around with a Fender Jazz bass that I rented a while back. I'm more a cat person but if I had a dog...

This track needed some drums. Nothing from my usual percussion sound palette fit. Nothing from my sample library worked in the all-acoustic world I had created. I labored over it for days. I scratched my head. I pondered. I worried. It…

Now here, boys and girls, is the reason why I am not a hip-hop artist.

There is more than one sort of flush, you know.

When I wrote this my girlfriend at the time had two shelter rescue cats who happened to be kittens at the time.

My first foray into tropicals happened about this time. I was keeping neon tetras. Unfortunately I could not keep them for very long. Now (2013) I have a tank full of long-finned zebra-striped danios; they keep much better. The danios are…

I love this song's enigmatic title. I shall give you a hint: the two beings mentioned in the title are the same species. I shan't say more (unless you ask nicely).

Dedicated to Mr. Lynch. No, not David Lynch the filmmaker. No, not Dave Lynch the Sacramento fusion guitarist, either. I mean that other Mr. Lynch--the one who wrote that fine tune "Celestial Soda Pop." Thanks, Ray. :)

This is my absolute best boy-Enya impression. Sorry I couldn't do better.

This song is about a REAL homeless man who used to stand out in front of the local Safeway asking for change. Once I saw him inside the store sipping a grande Starbucks and he pretended he was not the same man I had seen out front for months…

Well, it's about Eden. Almost.

OK, perhaps if you listen to this track repeatedly you will arrive at some insight as to why I placed it first. I certainly don't know. The lyrics are obviously about relationships or deep sea fishing off the coast of Antarctica, whichever…

One melody line from each section of this piece uses hand-drawn waveforms based around triangles, squares, hexagons, and octagons.

This track features the voice talents of my two sons, one of whom is rather reluctant to embrace the idea of the bathroom as a vocal both.

Ah, overbearingly loud rhythm section is getting their groove on during rehearsal . . . the bane of all self-respecting FM synthesists (well, synthesists in general . . . nay, all self-respecting keyboardists I say!). The solution? Play in the…

I believe microbes may have caused me to write this one.

What? Another Star Trek reference? Damn, you caught me.

Sorry, it's not a RHCP cover. It's not a typo, either.

Brought to you by the prime number section of Sagan's novel Contact and by the letters S and T.

If sixteen bonobos sat at sixteen grand pianos and could only play one note each and each knew how to divide the measure into a differing discrete division of time, might it sound a little like this piece? Probably not, but it was fun to ponder.

The dream of the African is not long to be achieve, too see beyond the colours of the eyes to be accepted and treated equally among the human race.

It seems Elle has finally gotten to Evan. It's too bad, really, but it's a fun use of a SCI SixTrak.

Schoenberg might wonder where the other three notes went.

Evan drinks with a few friends.

The urbanized flip-side of "a friendly pint." Elle and Evan have very different friends, and hang out in very different places.

Evan tries his hand at horseback riding. The steed gets away from him at one point and runs until it is exhausted.

Elle may be an angel, but she ain't a happy one.

Here is Evan yet again at the business of relaxation, this time in a forested setting.

part of a project,imagining what was the music thomas the apostle would have heard when e evangelised the jews of india..?...

I had envisioned the title referring to a suicide; however I suppose it could be anything attempted without success. In case you've not sussed it out yet, our friend Elle is not a happy camper. Some day I'll get around to noting all of the…

Lost In Translation