The Art of 2657 Productionsâ€Ś A collection of artwork for some self-released CDs
The Art of 2657 Productions…
Copyright 2008 by Ananda Mahto/2657 Productions… like Ananda really cares about copyrights. Feel free to do what you will with the contents of this book, just drop him a line and let him know what you’re doing with it…. http://mrdwab.com Thanks to Sam, John, Jenny, Brian, Ben J., Axle, Shirvan, Kiran, G’pa, Gaby, Eszter, Cody, Adrian, Aneesa, Alex, Erich, Kirsten, Gina, Josh, Monica, Ben R., Mike, Nick, Oralee, Maria, Kevin, and I’m sure a few more people who helped in some way in creating or inspiring the artwork found in these pages.
The Art of 2657 Productions… The Art of 2657 Productions… is a collection of artwork for most of the self-released CDs under the 2657 Productions “label.”
2657 Productions is an avenue for me to put together my love for music, drawing, computers, words, friends… a whole bunch of stuff, basically… into convenient little CD packages that I share with a really small audience. Why the name? A lot of the stuff here is from when I lived in the house pictured on the cover of this book. We always called it “the back house.” The address? 2657 Foothill Road. Hence the excitingly original name for the label. That, and it was G’pa’s home… and he was a huge inspiration to me in terms of art and music. A lot of stuff happened in the back house at 2657. Friends would come over and make music. We had impromptu concerts. I got to blast my music as loud as I liked. I filled many little books with scribbles and doodles. I started to teach myself graphic design on my bootlegged copy of Photoshop. This collection is just a sample of that output. Many of the people who I’ve created this book for will be familiar with the background of the bands. But for those who aren’t, I’ve also included some short background stuff about each band. Of course, much more information is available online at mrdwab.com…. ~ Ananda
Ananda and Ben
Ananda & Ben is not exactly a band, but rather a one-time acoustic concert, and a part of a long-lasting friendship. According to the liner notes for the release “A Concert at 2657 Foothill Road. April 6th, 1997,” here’s the story of that legendary concert: On the sixth of April, 1997, the creative minds of Ananda and Ben came together in a performance held in a little room at 2657 Foothill Road. A few lucky souls were invited to this rare performance, and enjoyed a night of great music, cheesecake, and coffee. This recording is the documentation of that night. The musical set included ten songs. The first three were performed by Ananda, as was the first half of the fourth song. During the fourth song, Ben accompanied Ananda, and they continued by playing three old time HUSK songs together. Ben took the stage for the last three songs. During the performance, a small blank book was passed around the room to the audience. As an “admission fee” of sorts, they were all required to produce a drawing. Most agreed to the fee, but others got away enjoying the night for free. There’s not a lot more to say about this release…. Following this concert, I played a few more shows solo, as Ananda (not DWAB or Mr. DWAB). Ben, as far as I know, has always simply gone by “Ben” when playing solo. Ben and I continue to make music whenever the need arises, and this is just one of the documentations of our many collaborations.
Ananda & Ben: A Concert at 2657 Foothill Road, April 6th, 1997 (front cover)
Ananda & Ben: A Concert at 2657 Foothill Road, April 6th, 1997 (back cover)
Where does DWAB begin? How long will DWAB exist? Why is there DWAB? What is DWAB? Questions concerning DWAB can often lead nowhere. DWAB started as a test. It was a test of my ability to create music more or less on my own, in a largely improvised manner. When DWAB first started committing sounds to tape, I was just beginning to get into the punk/hardcore scene in Santa Barbara. Lots of cool stuff was going on at the time. Lots of people were getting together and creating some really good music, and I thought, why not me? I was in junior high school and I used to carry around a cheap micro-cassette recorder from RadioShack and have my friends read my stories and poems onto it. Then I would take the tape home and create these strange pieces with it, filled with rewound, repeated passages. A few of my friends thought this was kind of cool, so one day some of us decided to get together and make some noise. It wasn’t always the same group of friends, but the gathering was always at my house. Somehow we had managed to get our hands on a guitar and a
keyboard, and we had an old laundry bucket that we used for drums. One of the friends made a homemade mixer, and we bought the cheapest microphone from RadioShack and thus began the terrifying sounds of “Distortion.” Even now, when I happen to remember where I hid my “Distortion” tape, I am tempted to throw it away for fear of what might happen if someone else heard it. Despite this, “Distortion” did lead to some rewarding outcomes. In as much as we were a totally dysfunctional group (not to mention that we were at the age when your best friends can easily become your worst enemies), we broke up. I got to keep the mixer and the mike, and by that point, I was also in temporary possession of a bass. Also, one of my uncles had given my older brother, Kiran, an old acoustic guitar. All of this, combined with my consumption of Danish butter cookies and other cookies that were packaged in tin cans, led to a fairly comprehensive collection of noise-makers. And, so, the noise-making began. It all started innocently enough on a boring Saturday afternoon. My younger brother, Shirvan, had written this masterpiece about why he hated war. I asked him if he wanted to record with me. He said sure. I said, well, I’ll play the bass while you
read your story—and read it loud. And that’s what we did. Then we added some banging and crashing from the tin cans, took piles of pennies and threw them at the cans, took sticks and hit the cans, stuck the microphone inside the acoustic guitar and made loud yelling noises…. We didn’t know what the hell we were doing, but it was fun, and we were damn proud of the song in the end. And that is how DWAB started. From that point on, DWAB became my primary musical outlet. It basically gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I often played with other people, but there was never a commitment. I would just be hanging out with friends and, if the desire arose, we would record a song together. A lot of it was noise. One minute bursts of random energy. But as time went on, I started to fine tune the noise a little, and add more structure to the songs. In a sense, I also started to actually write songs, mostly on the bass. Bring Sam Bennett into the picture, and we have the transition-or rather-expansion of DWAB into “Rotten Metropolis #2” and then subsequently, Jeberrekeñelle. I say “expansion” because throughout all of this, DWAB continued, as it still does today.
After Jeberrekeñelle broke up, I decided to further refine my DWAB songs. I had gotten a drum machine, which made it a lot easier for me to keep my songs from wandering off into these random directions. There was still a clear element of improvisation, because usually only one or two tracks were “set” and the rest was a mess of layered improvisation. But this suited me at the time—not to mention that it helped hide my uncertain vocal tracks…. The end result of this addition of the drum machine was the DWAB recordings heard on “Preliminary” and “Summer Entertainment.” But this was not the only end result. Folk Songs— or more precisely—Jeberrekeñelle Folk Songs, was also born out of these DWAB recordings. Sam had heard some of my 4-track recordings of the songs I was working on, and he was interested in playing drums on some of them. We recruited Dan Silver as the guitar player, and rocked Santa Barbara for a few short months. Sam left a little while later, Folk Songs disbanded, and DWAB continued on its journey. The next major step in DWAB history would probably be while I was working on “One Final Episode In Our Attempts At Persistence.” While, in the past,
DWAB recordings featured many friends helping out “here and there,” One Final Episode attempted to build on the idea of a “band” version of DWAB. I only got as far as to getting a drummer, and that position was filled by David Hanna. One Final Episode was recorded in small pieces. Usually David and I only worked on two songs at a time, recorded them, then forgot about them. While it was great having a regular drummer to work on with all of my songs, there still was a certain element missing with the One Final Episode sessions. Not being in a regular performing band was leading me towards actually writing more “songs” and using them with DWAB. I had switched roles from primarily a bass player, to playing almost exclusively with the acoustic guitar. To me, the next logical step was “The John Lyons Sessions.” These recordings were a collection of (initially
instrumental) acoustic songs. Some of the songs made their way onto the vinyl version of One Final Episode, but when converting them to CD’s I decided to keep them separate. In a sense, “The John Lyons Sessions” satiated my need for structured songs, and after some time “Sherman’s Unfiltered Music” was released. Sherman’s also marked a new milestone for DWAB since it was the first CD I had done that was almost entirely instrumental. This proved to be the future (or so it seems at least—who knows???) direction for DWAB. DWAB continues recording still (though, unfortunately, a lot less frequently). I presume I will continue recording unless something physically happens to prevent me from doing so.
DWAB: Music For, and About Gods (front cover)
DWAB: Music For, and About Gods (insert 1)
DWAB: Music For, and About Gods (insert 2)
DWAB: “Summer Entertainment” and “Preliminary” (front cover)
DWAB: “Summer Entertainment” and “Preliminary” (full covers)
DWAB : “Summer Entertainment” and “Preliminary” (insert)
DWAB: The Exciting Nights of Discordant Torture (front cover)
DWAB: The Exciting Nights of Discordant Torture (full insert)
DWAB: One final episode in our attempts at persistence (front cover)
DWAB: One final episode in our attempts at persistence (back cover)
DWAB: The John Lyons Sessions (front cover)
DWAB: Shermanâ€™s Unfiltered Music (front cover)
DWAB: Shermanâ€™s Unfiltered Music (back cover)
DWAB: Silly Songs and Odd Ditties (front cover)
DWAB: Silly Songs and Odd Ditties (back cover)
DWAB: Rarities (front cover)
DWAB: Rarities (back cover)
DWAB: The Amy Songs (front cover)
DWAB: The Amy Songs (back cover)
DWAB: A Very Well-calculated Lack of Cohesion (front cover)
DWAB: A Very Well-calculated Lack of Cohesion (full covers)
DWAB: De Colores (front cover)
DWAB vs Folk Songs: Evolution (front cover)
DWAB vs Folk Songs: Evolution (back cover)
Folk Songs fearlessly rose from the ashes of Jeberrekeñelle. Aware of the lack of commercial success that we would have as a band, we decided to simply charge forth with our newly refined sound and let the “scene” make what it would of it. Sam was no longer the guitar player, but instead, provided us the quirky drumming necessary for the sonic assault we were preparing to present. The guitar player position had yet to be filled, but was done quite quickly by recruiting a Jeberrekeñelle fan, Dan Silver, who was also working on another project with Sam. Dan rocked. When the two of us started practicing together, I was smiling like crazy inside. This was what we needed…. Heavy sounds combined with crazy melodies. Hell—we even had guitar solos. Folk Songs was doomed to a short existence—a fact determined by Sam planning to move to North Carolina—but that didn’t stop us from forging ahead in our pursuit. As a band, we only had about 20-25 minutes of music (some eight or nine songs). A lot of the music came from some DWAB songs that I was working on at the time. So, in a sense, it was another experiment at putting DWAB in a band setting. But it was also an extension of Jeberrekeñelle in the sense that both bands shared two common members, and in the sense that Folk Songs often included a couple of Jeberrekeñelle songs in their live sets. Then Sam left (Dan and I went on a tour across the US with him and John) and Folk Songs died, putting Jeberrekeñelle to rest for good.
Folk Songs: Danless (front cover)
Folk Songs: Danless (back cover)
Folk Songs: The Demo, 4-track Recording, and Live at KCSB (front cover)
Folk Songs: The Demo, 4-track Recording, and Live at KCSB (back cover)
Folk Songs: The Demo, 4-track Recording, and Live at KCSB (insert)
(Heavenly Undeniably Sexy Kings)
Given the chance, HUSK could have probably done pretty good in the punk/hardcore scene. We had a lot going for us, not the very least of which was the skillful songwriting of Ben Jaques. Ben wrote complex, melodic, long, grungy songs. I have extreme trouble remembering a “simple” Ben song, except for the first time I played music with him (when I think he doubted my abilities to play bass proficiently). Nevertheless, Ben’s songwriting also offered me a solid foundation with which I could try adding some more melody to my bass lines. That said, HUSK, the Heavenly Undeniably Sexy Kings, never really got their chance to make their mark in the Santa Barbara scene. Ben, at that point simply my friend and physics classmate, had mentioned something to me about wanting to play in a band. I don’t think his initial intention had anything to do with me being in the band… he was talking about playing with some
other people… but somehow we started playing. Ben was the musical mastermind in HUSK. This time, he was the one writing the songs with 50 parts. I played bass and provided the lyrics as necessary. But, as in the case of Folk Songs (my other band at the time), we were on a tight schedule. Ben was to leave Santa Barbara in a couple of months, ironically enough, also to move to North Carolina. We originally started practicing with a guy named Mike Davidson on drums. But after the first practice, (where I spent a lot of my time frustratingly trying to demonstrate drum beats with my uncoordinated drumming skills) we decided that we might have to reconsider due to the time involved. So, as a stab in the dark, I asked Brian Tamborello, who formerly worked with me in Jeberrekeñelle, if he would be so crazy as to accept an offer to play music with me for just a couple of months. Surprisingly, (I say “surprisingly” because I think Brian knows that I am annoyingly demanding towards drummers) he said yes, and three practices later, we had five songs ready to be recorded, and one show lined up. The show was both our first and last, and it went terribly. We were supposed to
record our demo with John Lyons the following day, and I could just see him cringing at the thought of spending a day in the studio with us. But the following day, we recorded the demo, the results of which surprised even us. Then we had dinner and disbanded for the time being. We got back together again for about eight hours one Christmas when Ben and Brian were both back in town, and we managed to record one song. We recorded the song a lot faster than it should have been played. Ben managed to break almost all of his guitar strings and didn’t have any extras, so I taught the song to Brian while Ben went on a long excursion trying to find a store that was open that sold guitar strings. Then we did a similar thing some months later, this time only meeting for about five hours. Ben and I practiced the song a couple of times before going into the studio. Brian heard a tape of it, and then came up with the
drum parts while John was setting up the recording equipment. It was awesome. Who knows, the Kings are still Sexy… so there’s no predicting whether HUSK’s life is over or not. As a side note, HUSK also had a lighter side, “HUSK (Old School),” that originally started as an acapella duo (and produced some fine recordings, I might add!). The name was inspired by our teacher, Mr. Billig, who was talking one day about a corn husker he had…. As another side note, HUSK almost got into some major trouble one time when my old co-worker, Dick, came up with another meaning for our acronym: Heavy, Undesirable, Sex-deprived Krooners. He wrote this on a piece of paper that somehow ended up in a customer’s hand. She thought the note was about her, and was planning on taking Dick to court…. Oh what fun.
HUSK (Old School): The “Physics” & “Red Light” Sessions (front cover)
HUSK (Old School): The “Physics” & “Red Light” Sessions (back cover)
HUSK: Heavenly Undeniably Sexy Kings (front cover)
HUSK: Heavenly Undeniably Sexy Kings (insert)
HUSK: The One With the Sour Part (front cover)
HUSK: The One With the Sour Part (back cover)
Jeberrekeñelle were rockin’. A blend of art, punk, poetry and, of course, metal. We were a band sort of put together by circumstance, and we stuck through with it for some time before moving on.
feel that the most important thing about the experiment was that it led to the formation of Jeberrekeñelle.
Jeberrekeñelle started off nameless, and as a duo. Actually, we weren’t nameless, but we didn’t have a steady name. One day we would be “Chuck Trichinosis and the Kosher Coalition,” or, as we were known at our final The history of Jeberrekeñelle would have to “nameless” show, “Why This?” For a very start with “Rotten Metropolis #2.” Rotten brief point, we also expanded and became Metropolis was a cassette label started by a trio, with Mike Ruehle playing drums with Sam Bennett, at that point a new friend of us. But two factors put a damper on the fun mine. We had sort of jammed a little here for a couple of months—a damper that led and there, but had never really sat down to an amazingly new and improved band. to create music. I had a four-track. Sam First, Mike had to go on tour with this other had access to some instruments, and the band, and would be gone at least all summer. know-how to work my four-track better than Second, I had to do this summer program at I did, and so, one spring break, we decided the University Of California, Santa Barbara that Sam would spend the week at my that would leave me only with my weekends house and we would crank out some music. free. There is definitely a place in this world Being the center of efficiency in our group, for “Rotten Metropolis #2,” if only as a Sam decided this was unacceptable, and document of my “musical beginnings,” but I
started asking some drummers in other bands if they would be willing to “fill in” for the summer while Mike was gone. We were graced with a stroke of great fortune when Brian Tamborello agreed to fill the role. He had heard “Rotten Metropolis #2,” thought the songs were decent (and I think, also simple enough that it wouldn’t be too demanding on him). Sam and Brian practiced during the summer, and at the end of my six week program, I stepped into Brian’s practice space and had myself blown away with the first true Jeberrekeñelle practice.
thoughts of simplicity Brian might have had when he started playing with us quickly disappeared. With such a solid foundation on drums, Sam and I went nuts and really put a lot of strange, artsy stuff into our songs. Everyone pushed each other to the limits. I distinctly remember the final song of our final show, with Brian falling off his drum-stool, getting back up, and just rockin’ the place. It was one of my all-time favorite shows. It’s a shame we didn’t record our later songs….
At the same time, however, it was clear that We continued for at least a year, I believe, Jeberrekeñelle was more of an experiment. playing usually at least one or two shows Our shows became less frequent. We spent per month. I don’t know if anyone really less time practicing. We spent more time liked us much, but we liked what we were getting more complicated. In a performing doing. In retrospect, I think the best thing arena, that’s just not what you do. So, we was the growth we had. All three of us stopped doing what we were doing, and became great listeners, and playing together everyone went on their respective musical was loud, sweaty, and fun. Whatever journeys.
Jeberreke単elle: The Studio Recordings (front cover)
Jeberreke単elle: The Studio Recordings (back cover)
Jeberreke単elle: Live at KCSB (front cover)
Jeberreke単elle: Live at KCSB (back cover)
Rotten Metropolis #2 The tape of the band with no name that started it all…. Two people… one week… lots of learning and experimentation….
“Rotten Metropolis #2” was the direct ancestor of Jeberrekeñelle. It was very much a “concept” band, and ended up developing into something much more significant. At the core of “Rotten Metropolis #2”’s existence is the idea of “anyone can start a band.” The truth or falsity of this statement can be clearly heard in the songs which were recorded. The music is definitely worth a listen, but mostly in a “historical” context…. And the members, Lazy Boy and Mr. Braids, both knew this and accepted it as the truth.
Rotten Metropolis #2 (front cover)
Rotten Metropolis #2 (insert 1)
Rotten Metropolis #2 (full front cover)
Rotten Metropolis #2 (insert 2)
The “September’s Tuesdays” Collaborative
The “September’s Tuesdays Collaborative” was something that was supposed to go on for at least the month of September. As far as I remember, someone who was participating was going to be gone by October, but ended up staying…. Initially, the participants were Ananda, John, Steve and Michael. Our first attempt was fun, but not groundbreaking. The following week, on Tuesday September 19th, 2000, Brian joined us, and while the result was again not groundbreaking, it was still a productive evening, resulting in almost 50 minutes of improvised music that we felt was worth releasing. With the second week being somewhat of a success, we decided to try to jam again the following week. It totally flopped. I scanned the minidisc several times hoping to find some redeeming passage of music. The discouragement that followed led to me lose interest. John, Steve and Michael persisted with their work, simply assuming the name “Tuesdays,” and went on to produce an incredibly ambitious catalog of over 20 releases. It was an awesome project, and a very cool experience to watch the transformation of the three core musicians over the time that they played together.
The “September’s Tuesdays” Collaborative: The Second Attempt (front cover)
The “September’s Tuesdays” Collaborative: The Second Attempt (back cover)
The SK-1 Men
The SK-1 Men coexisted alongside Song Sketches. Basically, while Song Sketches was around, Brian’s presence at practice was never guaranteed, so to keep ourselves busy, John and I started The SK-1 Men. Besides, the Casio SK-1 is such a cool toy to play with that we couldn’t keep our hands off it if we tried. Due to the nature of our existence, we weren’t very prolific. Usually John and I just hung out, ate ice-cream sandwiches, and walked around “The Living Room” (the club that also served as John’s recording studio and our practice space) trying to find anything that made a sound. Once we found something oddly noisy enough, we would sample it and try to improvise a song based on the sample. At the beginning, there was only one SK-1 to be shared between the two of us, so inevitably, we also employed other instruments in the songwriting process. John and I were happy with the results, and that structure remained throughout most of The SK-1 Men’s recorded output. Later on, John managed to find another SK-1, which he passed on to me, and, while this was a lot of fun, I think it also led to a certain amount of a lack of coordination of efforts…. Essentially the recording sessions where we tried to use more than one SK-1 ended up being a little bit too chaotic even for our liking….
The SK-1 Men: First Quarter, 2001 (front cover)
The SK-1 Men: First Quarter, 2001 (back cover)
The SK-1 Men: Second Quarter, 2001 (front cover)
The SK-1 Men: Second Quarter, 2001 (back cover)
The SK-1 Men: Duel: Introduction and Resolution (front cover)
The SK-1 Men: Duel: Introduction and Resolution (back cover)
Something Like That Who were or what was Something Like That?
Something Like That was an improvisation project centered around Ananda, Carl Simpson, and Joe Shelton. We met for 5 consecutive weekends from August 23rd, 1998 until September 20th, 1998. We recorded our improvised noise at a shabby practice space in Santa Barbara. There were usually more people joining us while we played…. Brett, Dan, Inti, Nick and Kent. We also had an obnoxious hippie walk in on one of our sessions, and he was fortunate enough to have us immortalize him in our music…. This is the Something Like That story as told in the liner notes to the CD “Just Like That”: What was it? I think it was something like five guys sitting together, some time in the middle of August, wanting to jam. There was a guitar or two, some drums, a bass, a bass-clarinet, and a handful of other noisemakers. As you would expect, they were all waiting to be used to make noise. And this continued for over a month, each weekend giving rise to a slightly altered assemblage of individuals and instrumentation. We had the hand drums, the keyboards, the metal pipes, toy accordions, pianjos, balloons, santouris…. Whatever we could get our hands on, we would use. No objective other than to have fun on the weekend making music. Sound quality was not the greatest of our concerns. These CDs are the documentations of those days of fun and music. And you could certainly call our songs music…. Or something like that….
Something Like That: Merlin (Benâ€™s cover)
Something Like That: Merlin (other cover)
Something Like That: Music Lessons (Benâ€™s cover)
Something Like That: Music Lessons (other cover)
Something Like That: Something Like That (Benâ€™s cover)
Something Like That: Something Like That (other cover)
Something Like That: Epic Proportions (Benâ€™s cover)
Something Like That: Epic Proportions (other cover)
Something Like That: Just Like That (Benâ€™s cover)
Something Like That: Just Like That (other cover)
Song Sketches has to be one of my favorite musical experiences outside of DWAB. I think that part of the reason was that we never had any of the “pressures” of being a band—having to practice regularly, having to set up shows, trying to sell records and so on…. Instead, we mostly just hung out together, and while hanging out, we created some cool music too. Another thing I really liked about Song Sketches was the way we let our songs transform. As I was working with two other extremely talented people, (Brian and John), I knew I could bring in a half completed song and with their help, we would modify the song—adding to it and taking away from it—until we had something cool fleshed out. In fact, this process is what prompted the name “Song Sketches.” Our songs were not complete until we formally recorded them, and even while we were recording, we were adding significant changes. Often, we documented our practices, recording them onto minidiscs. From these minidisc recordings, we compiled two CDs worth of “outtakes” or “rehearsals” or—as we prefer to call them—“sketches.” Many of the songs were eventually recorded more “professionally,” but as is usually the case, there were a few that didn’t get completed. There always seems to be a time conflict involving my music…. I had to go off to China to teach English for a while, and things had changed by the time I got back… people were living elsewhere… times conflicted… you know the story.
Song Sketches: <Unfinished Work> (front cover)
Song Sketches: Second Collection (front cover)
Song Sketches: Coloring Outside the Lines (front cover)
Song Sketches: Coloring Outside the Lines (back cover)
Mike calls me up. He’s playing drums in a band with Brett, and they don’t have a bass player. He wants to know if I’d like to play with them. “Sure,” I say, boldly stepping into the hardcore world. I’d never really played in a hardcore band before. Most of my stuff was too artsy for the hardcore kids to get into, so I thought I ought to give it a try. Typically, the Stephen Hero songs were simply constructed, but at the same time difficult to play simply because of the speed of the music. We had all the fixings for a hardcore band too, all the way down to the singer who yelled entirely unintelligible words into the microphone, the refusing to play on a stage when we played live, and the slowed down heavy parts…. All in all, Stephen Hero was a fun band. Not much more to say though….
Stephen Hero: The Demo (front cover)
Stephen Hero: The Demo (back cover)
Three Friends is more of a documentation of an evening than a band. John and I had played some music together in the past, but nothing concrete. Sam and I had played music together. Sam and John had lived together and run an all ages club together. Sam was no longer living in the Santa Barbara area, but he was back in California from North Carolina. He decided to visit quiet old Santa Barbara one day, and here’s the story: John calls me up. “Hey Ananda. Sam just called and said he’s in town. He wants to get together and play some music on Sunday.” “Sounds good,” I say, and we set a date for Sunday at noon… just for a couple of hours. Sunday comes. John, Elizabeth, and I meet for breakfast. A good time is had as always. Then we meet Sam at the club and start to play. No one has played in quite some time. John and I haven’t seen Sam for a few months. We are all being lazy. Mostly, we talk, but the minidisc goes on recording. Every now and again, our conversation gets interrupted by some music. Nothing flashy… just playing… remembering… the things old friends do together to keep busy on a lazy Sunday….
Three Friends: A Conversation (front cover)
Three Friends: A Conversation (back cover)
Where to find more….
mrdwab.com has all the music that these CD covers were designed for…. news.mrdwab.com has the most up-to-date information about what I’m up to, but is not usually updated very frequently…. work.mrdwab.com is proof that I have a relatively normal work life too. stories.mrdwab.com and poems.mrdwab.com has a growing collection of my melodramatic “stories” and “poems,” mostly written during my high-school days, and several of which were used as lyrics to different songs. Maybe I’ll make a book out of that too. Take a guess at what you can find at images.mrdwab.com or photos.mrdwab.com. Take your time…. The sites aren’t going anywhere….