Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Waiting For Evolution In The Afternoon

It’s the name for a very short piece of music I once wrote on my little Roland D-20 synthesizer.  It sounded like a sort of melting of major 7ths and 9ths, volleying from the root major to the second degree minor, and it had a little little, childish break into the key of the flat 3rd degree for a few bars, then settled back into the root major and second minor again.  All instrumental, never really went anywhere and ended in just under two minutes. 

But for me, it was written about that time of the day at the beach when you’ve had all of your activity that you can engage in, and you’re tired, sunk into the towel on the beach, or maybe your bed or couch of your beach house, if you’re lucky enough.  A lower limb jutting out asymmetrically with sand on it. 

And what is filling your mind, as you get close to a meditative sleep state, is the sound of the ocean crashing beyond you, seagulls barking at one another, and the occasionally child yelling out to another about something seemingly important to them. 

The afternoon breeze flutters through an opened window, or if you happen to be strewn on the warm summer sand, blows tufts of cooler air over and around you, flapping a newspaper nearby.  It’s just relaxation at it’s deepest for me.  The sea waters are more choppy at this time of day, and if you were to raise your heavy head, you would see a few motorboats still out on the water, and sailboats vectoring towards the local harbor.  But you’re not going to raise your head.  "Hell no, I ain't movin'!"

I have no idea where the original recording of the tune is, so I went to my piano just now and hammered out this inexact, somewhat sloppy version of it, just so you’d understand the tune’s mood.