Sander Roscoe Wolff

This song, called

, was written a few years back when I was recording songs as birthday gifts for my friends. At a local farmer’s market, I found a small stone heart that was carved from some sort of crystal. It looked rather dull and gray until the sun hit it. When it was illuminated directly, it sparkled and shined, refracting the light from within. This became a lyrical metaphor for me, and sparked the song. My singing, especially at the beginning, is a bit ragged. The harmonies are all staggered and informal. This was all planned. The guitar solo is perhaps one of the best I’ve ever recorded, not for its technical skill, but because to me it is filled with feeling. As the solo progresses, the rest of the music fades away. To me, this was also a metaphor for being couragous in letting one’s heart shine… At the end, my vocal is softer, warmer, and more intimate…. Almost a whisper.

To me, this is a very special song. I don’t know if anyone else likes it much, as I understand that aspects of it can be challenging. Still, for me, I felt like I reached a place in the creation of it that was emotional and personally profound.

Having said that, I absolutely welcome and encourage any and all feedback and impressions you care to share, positive or negative.

Here are the lyrics:

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When I performed at the Dung Mummy Anniversary event last month, I met a young man by the name of Adam Reese. He performed with the Hop Frog Drum Jester Devotional, smacking a mini trap set. A few days ago he contacted me about a project of his own that he wanted me to participate in. Evidently, he’s producing a compilation LP with tracks by a multitude of artists. Each track, however, must be no more than 45 seconds. This is a unique challenge. He explained that he wasn’t really looking for ‘noise’ stuff. He said he’d enjoyed my performance, and was hoping for something reflective of that. Well, leave it to me to take a perfectly good suggestion and corrupt it terribly. I took the audio from the middle portion of my performance, the bit with the Indy Rail lap steel, and time shifted it from nearly 12 minutes to exactly 45 seconds. I also applied a wee bit of dynamic processing, reverb, EQ, and dropped the audio down one octave.

Hear the result

. [NOTE: This is an uncompressed WAV file that’s about 7.5 MB.] Now, I don’t know if this will be my actual submission, but the result was interesting in a ‘tweaky’ sort of way.

Please let me know what you think by leaving a comment.

In the process of sorting through the detritus of my life I happened upon a cassette tape labeled “Sander’s Apology.” I had no specific recollection of recording an apology, but did remember making tapes of radio broadcasts when I was a kid living in Santa Monica. We lived in Santa Monica from about 1968-1971. The tape was full on both sides, and contained a few surprises. Here are some excerpts:

is, well, an apology to my father. The context isn’t exactly clear, but I can tell I’m trying very hard to be sincere.

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With the kind assistance of a volunteer, I recorded my performance at Dung Mummy on my video camera. The performance, in its entirety, was about 25 minutes. This excerpt, about 11 minutes in length, comes from the middle, when I had switched from my gretsch to my Industrial Guitar Indy Rail.

Click here to hear audio. Note: the file is about 10 MB.

If you’re interested, you can see pix of the guitar effects I use and read about what they do.
Enjoy!

Create(!), a local instrumental electric free improv christian group, has been pushing the envelope for ages, both in performance and on record. Just when you think they can’t go anywhere, they reinvent themselves in some new and wonderful way. I received an email from them that announced a remix contest. They posted the individual tracks that, together, make Six Dreams Divided from their upcoming album, A Prospect of Freedom. Listen to the album version of

.

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Here’s a somewhat boring

of what the new guitar sounds like when played in three positions, using the three switch settings.

From Poor Old Joe, there’s

and . Both are written and sung by me, with Brian Nelson on Guitar and Dave Pratt on Drums.

From Blue Dot, there’s

and . Both songs were written by keyboardist Neal Weiner, with Mike Weber on guitar, John Feijoo on drums, and Emily Ensley singing.

I play bass on all the tracks.