Listen to the entire show free by streaming it from the Internet Archive here
On this the week of 7-31-20 Evan and Jeff get zappy and bump a rumpy, letting the saw wave wiggle a bit for the opening synthesizer improv set. In the middle bit we hear a few area announcements and a solo piece that Jeff put together under the moniker OCTOTHORP called NorEaster. Then the show closes with an energetic yet intricate half hour improv synth session. Branes were braned, dimensions were dimensioned, times were timed and much fun was had by all.
Here is the opening live set
“The advertisement opens with a beautiful woman falling through the clouds, smiling at the camera she glides her slender body effortlessly about, dancing as she drops. She mimes that she has no parachute with over exaggerated gestures. Mocking death, she spreads the short wings of her squirrel suit with a flamboyant flare in an effort to scrub off the impending kinesis a few seconds more. Mortal bodies are just expendable vehicles that we drive around with our computer minds in this shard of the future multiverse. The camera is falling above her, looking straight don to the ground, screaming up on them, but as she stares back up into the lens, her cackling laughter suddenly stops. Her lips form a growing Ohhh and just before impact a shiny metallic egg pops out and gently bounces twice in the grass before coming to rest. It was just for kicks today, why suffer mortality when you could live on indefinitely in the form of a program running in computer hardware, supported by a rental meatbag. Make copies ad infinitum, across ages and branes, spreading out into spacetime like slime mold, reaching out, pulsing in spellbinding murmurations…”
Here is the closing live set
“Like a setting sun that seems to be constantly retreating while never actually dipping below the horizon, after a few lifetimes in begins to drag on your enthusiasm. That’s when it really sinks in how there is no reason or purpose for all of this. It’s just a ridiculous fit of vibrating atoms, while we see patterns in the noise, it is really the noise that tells the true story. Embedded into the recording are the echoes of the space and time when certain things found their long awaited change. We all march forward, sometimes kicking and screaming, our copies drop like bombs into the shattering multiverse. We listen in when they fall, plunging from the sky on radio waves. To imagine that we are all just meaningless data being pushed around from desire to desire, do we make a sound when we wail? Do we really live when we are numbers and scales, scripts and shells?…”
