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13 Tracks

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Vision
13 Tracks

the

Inception

The creation of 13 Tracks was a real life “Shining” event, except there was plenty of booze and the ghost were a little more friendly.

There I stood in the haze of a hallucination effortlessly induced by the triple digit heat of a gracious southern summer - watching beats and baselines dancing in the sunshine - and then it hit me.  An insidious chill that promised to be free malice.  I would soon discover it was a beautiful lie with an icy allure.  The shock was absolute.  I could not look away.  Before me was a breathtaking view, my personal winter of discontent.

I traced a path through the barren wasteland all the way back, until it terminated beneath my feet.  To walk this path was certain death.  I had been delivered a clear message.  The time to revel in wonder and inspiration had passed.  As inspiration void of creation to render structure will break apart, and return to forever.

With no vacillation the decision was made.  I packed my gear and headed to a place where I could set up a studio free of distraction. A place where, once the first snow of the season hit, I would be locked in with no escape.  Forced to face reality for what we are, a hologram of infinite possibilities poised on the event horizon- waiting for a watchful eye to define our meaning.  

My arrival was that of a beleaguered warrior.  Winter welcomed me with a three-day blizzard, its version of a tinker-tape parade.  As promised isolation was complete.  My outpost was surrounded by ten-foot snow drifts, and phantom turrets blasting rounds of negative 40 degree shells at anything foolish enough to be caught outside.  It was perfect, an ominous oasis of solitude.  A place where the insanity of pure creation could run rampant - undisturbed- until it had exhausted itself.  But only after it had completely saturated the fabric of this time and place.  Leaving crystalized gems of madness frozen in the subzero setting.

At first I could not be sure whether it was the arctic air that shook my bones, or an overwhelming sense of gratitude.  That I - a mere daydreamer - was allowed to witness this marvelous chaos, and share in the exquisite malice of natures pitiless destruction.  Whether divine synchronicity or plain dumb luck, it was indeed an honor and a gift.  The trip of the overcharged opus ensued until absolute exhaustion eclipsed the apex of illumination, and complete darkness flooded in.

I woke up and dug myself out of the rubble.  Then I sifted through the jewels of mania until I found a collection of malleable shards I could piece together into a luminescent kaleidoscope of jagged euphoria.  I took a deep breath and gazed into the wayward dimension - a spectacle forged within the inferno of an artist’s meditative compulsion - my body shook as my spirit was pulled through the scope.  

I have no trustworthy memory of what transpired on the other side.  When I came to, I was standing in front of my trusty AKG, covered in sweat and out of breath.  I looked to a dimly lit computer screen where Logic Pro 9 was dutifully recording everything the AKG could pick up.  I reached over and tapped the space bar, took off my monitor headphones, and sat down.  The trip was over.  Just in time as the snow melted away, the booze ran dry, and the ghost became angry.  Mission accomplished.

I give to you as it was given to me- Vision’s debut album: “13 Tracks”.

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