I played Crooswijk on every piano I met in 2017 and 2018 and now my fingers forget how. The recorded performance was persuaded out of a Rhodes electric piano in my apartment in Montréal sometime last spring, then left to ferment inside a hard drive for one year.
During this time, nothing of the piece itself changed, only my relationship to it. I am slow. I am not a good capitalist. It takes many months of day- and night-dreaming for an idea to wander out from the shag-upholstered cartoon spirit world in my belly. I don't mind; I like the company.
Anyways, now it’s out. Crooswijk is 5 short songs for electric piano, orbiting a central motif.
The electrically powered digital audio files reside on privately owned for-profit internet servers, fireproof, for your listening pleasure:
And now, a poem:
kneeling at the edge of the tub
in your underwear
you forged a path
through the unforgiving city maze
in oilstain tablecloth, in wash
you willed new stories
out of ancient genes inherited
and dried our sheets
in a voiceless sky
you placed new words
at the feet, in the tombs
of your mentors
and collected dust
to build a mattress
and we slept
our rings concatenate
with our rattling refridgerator
and silver spoon and coffee-maker
in the heat of our apartment
in the shadow of a mountain
of an oilstained city
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