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classic sounding chimps, er, hot wheels spaulding untune. downtempo, invisible barriers, proud fuzz.

Recorded in the $25 computer microphone days. I tried to clean it up a bit, but to no avail.

Played on a Generation Bb pennywhistle

Not really Irish ... a Scottish ballad ... An earthly nourris sits and sings And aye she sings, "Ba lilly wean (and) no ken I, my bairns father Far less the land that he dwells in." And up come he to her bed fit A grumly guest I'm sure…

Played on an O'Riordan D-whistle

This is a podcast. It's not music. Well, unless your idea of music is very distorted. This is talking and responding and talking and responding. You know? Like talk radio or something. Enjoy. Love always, John and Gab.

Someone's forgot to turn the seance off again. From the album LIFE IS HARSH IN THE LAND OF GHOSTS THEME PARK

For the new Fall. Lots of reverse looping. Ebowed acoustic guitar, various apps, toy pianophone.

An old song, written while walking in the rain on Kauai. Sung in church with some wonderful brothers, Alani Woodward and Mike Lingaton.

Strung Out

A setting of a sonnet by Walter Lowenfels to music.

Dedicated to my grandfather, and not dedicated to a few people... especially a certain one named "bob". Lyrics: the last true gentleman is dead. i’d ask you to care, but you can’t begin to understand what that means. i’d ask you to mourn…