I often think that my life has a soundtrack.  It is not something to suggest mood, even something to follow the joys and frustrations of everyday life, more the coming together of different threads currently in my head and around my work.

Last week, for example, it was a mixture of Belshazzar’s Feast and Mozart’s Requiem.  This week, as both those pieces fade away, it is fragments of my new works, a whiff of Carmina Burana here, a dose of Sister Sledge there, and omnipresent in the background (and in my headphones as I write) King’s X.

Composing one thing, arranging something else and listening to yet another produces a heady and delirious mix, and maybe today, with such intense noise, is the focal point for a couple of weeks of intense and involved activity, coming to a conclusion tonight in my first gig for RetroChic.

From next week I need to immerse myself in my own music and begin earnest work on two pieces that have been shunted aside through the force of other things clamouring for attention, and thus the wheel turns, the constant shifting from playing to directing to writing that defines this musician’s like.

And in the meantime the fragments twist and turn in my head.  Music, music, I hear music, music over my head

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