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Shitposting since 2005

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My introduction to Philip Glass forty years ago. Imagine my joy when the entire score to the film was finally released fifteen years after the original soundtrack, including the full length 22-minute version of The Grid and previously unreleased tracks Organic and Resource.
My favorite cut and the one scene (other than the hot dogs and escalators scene “The Grid”—something you’ll immediately recall if you’ve ever seen the film) that’s stayed with me for the last 40 years:
Philip is my go-to guy whenever I need to center and recharge. There isn’t a piece of his music that I don’t love. (Okay, 1000 Airplanes On The Roof is borderline—and surprising considering my lifelong interest in the subject matter it’s supposed to depict—but I won’t ever outright refuse to listen to it.)
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Singer and songwriter Duncan Sheik, who was Grammy nominated for his 1996 hit “Barely Breathing” and won two Tony Awards as the composer of “Spring Awakening,” died September 17, 2026, at a hospital in New York City of cardiac arrest at the age of 56.
Sheik’s career traced an unusual arc from pop radio to the theater world, and in doing so he helped redraw the boundary between the two. He proved that intimate, literary songwriting could carry a Broadway score just as it drove an alternative hit. This opened the door for a generation of singer-songwriters who followed him from the recording studio to the stage.
Born November 18, 1969, in Glen Ridge, New Jersey, Sheik attended Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts. He studied semiotics at Brown University, where his classmates included Lisa Loeb, known for her 1994 song “Stay (I Missed You).” The two were in the band Liz and Lisa together; Sheik played guitar. His early career also included a guest appearance with the Seattle alternative band His Boy Elroy.
On his own, Sheik signed with Atlantic Records and released his self-titled debut in 1996. Written largely by Sheik, it included “Barely Breathing,” which topped the Adult Alternative Airplay chart and spent more than a year on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, peaking at No. 16. The song was ranked among VH1’s “100 Greatest Songs of the ’90s” and was nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance.
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It’s just that the particular ten change over time.
I sold the silver D-EJ985 (recouping what I’ ‘d spent for it), so I immediately turned around and added the D-NE820 to the collection. This one came from a seller in Japan, and while the general consensus is that buying from Japan is at best a crapshoot, the few times I’ve done it I’ve never had any problems. This time I was worried about tariffs, but they were already included in the very reasonable US $15 shipping cost, and I’ll say this about Japanese sellers: they pack things to survive the journey.
The NE820 is my current favorite. Unlike the EJ915 or the EJ985, it’s all plastic construction, but damn if it isn’t heavy. The fit and finish of the player definitely highlights Sony’s expertise at the time. And again, the color. People got all excited when Apple introduced a pale rainbow of iMacs a few years ago or even the latest burgundy iPhone [rolling eyes], but they could still take a lesson from Sony. Sony knew how to do color twenty years ago, and they weren’t afraid use it.
And with that, because I have any of this stuff, we come to tonight’s jazz fusion musical selection:

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And in honor of the day, the morning soundtrack:

And once again I am twenty years old, skimming over a vast sea of golden dunes in my landspeeder under a double sun in a hazy, wheat-colored sky…

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This piece of music burst into my life when I was still living in Tucson, a few months before relocating to San Francisco. There was a program of “Space Music” that aired on our local NPR FM station every Sunday night called Hearts of Space that I faithfully recorded onto cassette for later listening enjoyment. Novus Magnificat was the music I subsequently used for meditation for many years afterward, but the one instance of that mediation that really stands out in my memory was one afternoon in June or July 1986. I was floating on an air mattress in the swimming pool, my little tape walkman in a sealed plastic bag to prevent it from getting wet, headphones in place, and eyes closed.
All of a sudden I saw myself in San Francisco and I had just met Justin Banks, cover and featured model of the June 1986 issue of MEN. My heart fluttered.
It was a premonition that actually manifested about eighteen months later. The details of our meeting were very different from what I saw in my vision, but the fact that the meeting and subsequent brief affair happened at all still seems fantastical. Was that future already in place and my meditative state just allowed me a distorted glimpse into it, or did my meditation cause it? Was it all just sheer coincidence? I’ll never know. But I do know is that I came away that instant with the absolute certainty that eventually our paths would cross. I didn’t know where. I didn’t know when (especially since the actual timing and circumstances of my San Francisco move were still very nebulous), but I knew it would happen. Looking back at it all now while it’s true that our relationship that never turned into anything more than casual dating/fucking, much less the love-of-my-life thing that I’d hoped for while floating in that pool, Justin was a lesson—albeit a painful one—that I needed to learn. (And it wasn’t just “never date a porn star.”)
But back to Novus Magnificat, I had the pleasure of meeting Constance Demby in person a few weeks before I met Justin. Dave, a guy I’d been dating somehow managed to get us invited to the small recital she was holding one night at her home in Marin County.
It wasn’t a huge house, but the energy it contained was amazing. “Sparkly and Purple” are two words that even today, nearly 40 years later, best describe it. I remember several museum-quality crystals scattered around the living room, but the one that stands out the most in my memory of the evening was a three-foot-tall group of amethyst crystals that was standing off to the side of where she had her instruments set up. (Probably where the “sparkly and purple” impression came from come to think of it.)
She sat down to play and the room fell silent. When we left several hours later I won’t go so far as to say we were high, but we were definitely buzzing.
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When The Last Temptation of Christ originally opened on August 12, 1988, it was playing at the Northpoint Theater in San Francisco. This was not one of my usual movie venues in The City, but there was such buzz about the film I wanted to see it nevertheless. I don’t remember who I saw it with, although it was probably Philip, a very cute bear I was dating whom I met—at The Detour nonetheless—the night of the Pride Parade the previous June.
Philip is a story unto himself and maybe someday I’ll share it. He’s no longer with us, another victim of the early 90s, so I’ll be kind because I do have mostly fond memories of our time together.
Anyhow, the release of the film was highly controversial, drawing significant protests, which led Universal to release it six weeks earlier than originally planned. Despite opening in only 123 theaters across the United States and Canada, it grossed over $400,000 in its opening weekend.
Frankly, I’m surprised it grossed that much.
The film didn’t move me one way or another. The strongest memories I have of it (I only saw it that once) was of the dream sequence (?) Jesus was having as he hung on the cross wherein had gone on to live a “normal” life and raise a family, and the protestors who greeted us as we left the theater, threatening us with hellfire and eternal damnation.
I do remember laughing in their faces.
But the music was ambient and haunting, and that’s what prompted me to purchase (and recently repurchase) the CD. With a few exceptions, I’ve never been a fan of Peter Gabriel’s work, but for some reason Passion really captured me.
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Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, I loved Orville’s album of duets, Stampede.
Cowboys Are Frequently Fond Of Each Other, Midnight Ride, the famous Glen Campbell song Rhinestone Cowboy, and You’re An Asshole I Can’t Stand You And I Want A Divorce, are probably my favorite tracks, but I have to say his latest album, Mule, grabs me in a way this one only brushes against me.
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Another lesser-known project by “The Godfather of EDM,” Giorgio Moroder. It was also the debut of Chris Bennet, whom he collaborated with on Giorgio & Chris the following year.
My two favorite tracks on the album harken from Side 2 of the original vinyl release: La Nuit Blanche and In Love With Love.
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Yanni before he became YANNI and the caricature of all that was horrible about 80s New Age music. The second—and my first—of his albums holds a special place in my heart because it—along with Patrick O’Hearn’s Ancient Dreams were a gift from my ex the first Christmas we were in San Francisco. I hadn’t heard of either artist, but immediately fell in love with both.
I bought only two more of Yanni’s albums—Out of Silence and Chameleon Days—before he hooked up with Linda Evans and his music went to hell..
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Now I’ve got The Lonely Goatherd as an earworm the rest of the day.
No, not this version:

That file still makes me laugh.
I don’t remember the context under which I created it, other than the screaming goat was sort of an inside joke between myself and a coworker at DISH in response to something our horrible supervisor did.
Said coworker was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a work husband, but I cut off all contact after we moved back to Phoenix and he admitted he voted for Trump in 2016. It was kind of a surprise because he was a very liberal guy.
Gawd…I don’t even remember his name at this point.

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Chris is only one of two artists whom I’ve written (as in a handwritten, ink on paper) who has ever responded. For that reason alone, he remains one of my favorite Ambient/New Age artists
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Grace, at 78 years old, is right up there with the rest of the divas whom we embraced and provided the soundtrack of our lives in the 1980s. We can’t lose any more of them this year.
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People don’t generally take me for a Pink Floyd fan, but oh yeah…
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Whatever happened to Pussy Tourette? An extensive internet search comes up with precious little. The most comprehensive thing I found was via grokpedia (including her real name, Mark Cliser, who, through further searching I learned is now 63 years old). Seems the last thing she released was EP1 in 2007—now only available for download via iTunes. There isn’t any physical media available for this release.
These albums prompt so many good memories of my life in SF during the 90s, including my return to The City in ’98 as I was winding my way through Oakland, just before I crossed the Bay Bridge.
I remember how scandalous the lyrics were considered at the time. Now you hear much worse on a daily basis.
And while you’re at it, GET OFF MY LAWN!
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I’m slowly backfilling my Loscil catalog and this has become one of my favorites.
And in case you haven’t noticed, this particular player, the D-EJ915 has also become my favorite portable. The overall design and choice of materials used, the build quality and the sound all contribute to that. Yeah, it uses rechargeable gumstick batteries, but even the crappy ones made nowadays still manage to keep it happily powered for a couple days’ listening sessions. And if those run out, I have the external AA battery case to connect in an emergency. (Can your music player running out of juice really be called an emergency?)
The 915 doesn’t have a built-in display but that’s proven to be less of a liability than I initially thought. The display on the supplied inline remote [one of Sony’s worst designs IMHO] supplies all the info and frankly after living with this player for a couple months now, I think if they’d designed a built-in display on the lid it would’ve really destroyed the aesthetics.
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