Loud & Sad False Intimacy
Released in conjunction with Lathe #1 on October 5th, 2012.
Edition of 100.
Hand made, silk screened, stamped and numbered matchbox cases with booklet.
Design and layout by Travis Johansen.
Purchase from Discriminate Music and cae-sur-a
Reviewed at The Honest Bag
“It can arise suddenly, causing panic, in the overpowering presence of a large number of people. it can come about in our own familiar quarters, in the present of our family or friends, or it may look over our shoulder when we start to write a letter. It has infold faces and forms. And after a while, when we begin to gain an intimacy with it, when we have come to terms with this feeling of loneliness, we become aware that it is actually always there like a kind of inner space; that where it draws its outline into our experience, there we begin to be ourselves.”
It is sometime in the late 1980’s, early 90’s, I am probably nine, making it 1990 or at least 1990 and I am holding the door for my father as he guides two behemoths through our front door as they heft an ancient gleaming upright piano like some untamed beast from a distant unnamed island through the threshold of our front door, into the living room and down to rest in the newly cleared space that I was, until recently, completely unaware of, and like some ensnared wild beast, this new black, glossy specimen sits uneasy in its new surroundings and while it acclimates I make my way cautiously to its front, inspecting first the bench it came with which, among other things, holds several of schaum’s beginner lesson books, a pantone series of insults, fingerings and exercises seemingly designed to make one give up all hope of learning to play the piano, though marketed otherwise. I quickly discover that laying into all black rosewood, avoiding the white ivory like the contraband it is, yielded far more gratifying results and thus began my first serious relationship with a musical instrument, or with music for that matter.
It is March, 2010 and I am on spring break in the bleak late winter of Burlington, VT, for the express purpose of presenting this very piece, false intimacy, to a crowded cafe/venue, the radio bean if i’m not mistaken and i’m hunched on the same creaky piano bench from 20 years ago, though this time shared with a not unattractive young woman spectator and the room, again, filled beyond capacity with a living breathing audience that has somehow crept silently into my parent’s same living room with that ancient black piano, the two times and places now inextricably intertwined and I close my eyes, leaving behind the crowded coffee shop and empty living room and press my fingers into welcoming black rosewood, revisiting melodies, soul bared, for the not unattractive girl on the bench, the empty living room, the coffee house full of strangers, 1990 and 2010 all at once.