lb

Mitchell Wescott and I start by playfully exercising our demons through throwing sticks, bouncy balls, hardware, a handheld massage abacus-esque thing, and large drums pieces at a dissembled drum set strategically placed around the room. I remind mitch of #deadraccoonTO and we discuss the tiny pylons placed after the body was taken, overtop of the sparser re-assembly of the drum set, and at times manic with laughter. Mitch's synth is honest with its emotional processing of the whole affair. A back-alley lullaby follows. Our closing remarks distort the lullaby and explore the instability of a secure connection; humans act as antennae, at times unable to focus through the buzzing cloud of signals. By incorporating and experimenting with this cloud, creative potential grows infinitely. ft. mitch wescott April 2017