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1993, Houston TX. ... Enter Creative Music, Bay Area style. The stations General Manager
and Jazz Director have the audacious idea to blow our entire budget for the year hosting a two-day
festival featuring Rova and the Splatter Trio (VK adds: and Tim Berne/Hank Roberts and Boston's Debris).
Gino and Myles walk through one of the very first rehearsals of my
preposterous noise-rock band Lozenge. I interview Rova on the air; in a fit of exasperated befuddlement
betraying my conservatory damage, I ask so, wait, is your music composed or not? Later that evening,
in the same recital hall where Id dozed through countless classmates Brahms, Im punched square in the
face with a conclusion so obvious in retrospect its almost pathetic: this music is being composed before
my eyes, between my ears, by fully engaged, empowered artists. This music is vital, legit, alive; it speaks
to me, it matters, and maybe I couldno, have toactually play it myself. On the oboe, even.
("On Procedural Grounds") is dedicated to Heidi Bullinga and
Vince Kargatis, who flapped some butterfly wings nearly two decades ago, without which it is
exceedingly unlikely that this whole darn CD ever would have happened.
I guess "flapping butterfly wings" means something like "making a big fuzz" ?