LOCUTION RECORD RELEASE

Sea-change has been in the air for some time now. We’ve all been feeling it.

For me, it’s expression manifests in wind. And I, in turn, am moved to recapitulate through sonic locutions of my own...

I have been swayed by elemental sighs rendered grandiose and majestic when not typhonic in act-of-god-like afterthought that raze the topography of my very selfhood and the present moment in its soft-bellied vulnerability and smallness of scale… which I’ve come to understand, for better or worse, is a needless non-sequitur with little to no bearing on the greater narrative here… the narrative which I am now inviting you to join as an active participant. Play the role that fits your fancy, but know there are to be no heroes or villains -that, I assure you, would be a far greater diversion from the big-beating-heart of the matter than unnecessary ponderings on perspective. I come to you here as a formless body with heart and feet that can only beat off track, if that is the path you wish to take...

No, we are destined to walk a labyrinth together. We must take our time.

For this reason, I am gently taking your hand and leading you to a beginning of sorts -directing your gaze to the remnants of a genesis that was mine, and will be yours, too, in time…

See how when you let your vision blur and mind wander and look long and hard from the soft eye between your ears how these ruins are teeming with life?

See how they ache to tell you their secrets in typhonic whispers?

How there are lichens begetting civilizations of multiplicitous singularity there in total, quiet, unity?

And we how find ourselves in a confused metropolis with bustling center where the sounds of human language and mechanical whirring buzz out of phase and blanket you in an ascendent silence where you can finally be alone?

You’re in touch with everything now -all time, all souls…

You’re blooming humble tubers that live for nothing more than reaching ever inward, upward, and outward… To taste a new cubit of air in spaces you always knew were out there but never how they were yours, and smile deeply, profoundly, as you open your leaves to let the sun into your very soul.

So, here we are -swimming in currents of timeless time, being ever so still, and ever more still yet…

Stillness that is an act of ecstatic dance, a form of legless locomotion, and a movement unto itself.

It’s also the first chapter -the way in, from a linear standpoint…

So, allow me to play your compass rose for a moment and offer some finite coordinates:

The songs themselves are limbs of sorts that move with you towards this stillness…  

“Lo” by Richard Wagner represents a unique channeling of whatever Great Spirit of the elements forged the ground on which we stand. This was the music that made me want to play to begin with.

“I’m On Fire” by Bruce Springsteen was but a dream of longing for what could be, and as a ‘Jersey Boy myself (well, sort of), became my introduction to the glorious kingdom of the Devil’s Music.

“Momma You Been On My Mind” by Bob Dylan comes to me as a coming-of-age hymn… so poised for a future of complex social laws and entirely mature adult sentiment that smacks of a certain grace and prescience. It has, for matter of fact and little else, wormed its way through the pages of my personal narrative, leaving tunnels through which to travel back in time at memory’s blurred clip.

“Sea Of Love” by Phil Phillips strikes me as timeless in its deceptive simplicity. I see it as much as a sea as I do Siddhartha’s river. The water is always fine here and it may absolve if we let it. From here, we can go anywhere… Beyond the horizon line of our immediate sight and far off into wild imaginings that bear whole new worlds right off the edge of this one…  

“Cowboy Chords” and “Homing” are songs I penned for Sparta Philharmonic, a duo with my brother, Alex. These tracks were recorded practically a decade ago to the day as the intentionally horoborian bookends of the record I had to write to claim my voice, (trans)migratory birds.   


Ten years later, my voice is worn and plaintive. It hovers over much deeper waters now, and the songs seems to speak other truths than before -as if the light of day has shifted just so and revealed a new painting on a canvas you’ve been staring at from the moment you opened your eyes…

The first two tracks were recorded in the pre-dawn hours of autumn, 2018. Just me and my digital 8-track in a camper nestled in the Capitol Forest of Olympia, WA…

The last four were recorded in a cavernous, cold space in downtown Olympia that was once an actual mortuary, as the light, January rain made its soft descent with unbroken metronomic precision. The whole thing was recorded in single live takes over the course of a single afternoon. Engineer, Drew Funk, invented whole new techniques to capture the sound. Whether it was magic or witchcraft, masterful expertise or sheer luck, is his story to tell, or secret to keep. Drew?

So there you have it, in a manner of speaking… if you can have it all.

I maintain that although I created the sounds herein, I can’t really have them either.

They were borne from our collective well and can only be their own. They may choose to take up residence in your imagination for a time. They may come to stay, or leave only to return down the line… Or never knock on your personal door at all.

Regardless, I am happy to have had them speak through me, and most grateful to you for listening at all.

Til next time,

-G.

Gregory Bortnichak