Eldritch Ætherium IV

"Tales Around the Desert Crossroads between Aribeth and Anauroch, over the High Seas, beyond the Druid Grove"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the introduction for more background.  You may also want to check out the first volume in this multi-volume mix for more info on its theme.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

Well, it’s another volume of music to inspire tabletop roleplaying, and yet again we’ve got another long, silly title cobbled together from the track names—I may have actually reached the limit at this point, and whenever next volume comes along I’ll probably have to reset to a shorter title and start building up again from there.  Many other things are the same too: Midnight Syndicate is back, with two more tracks off the excellent Dungeons & Dragons album, as are Nox Arcana, Colm McGuinness, and Ian Peter Fisher.  Jeremy Soule’s soundtrack for Neverwinter Nights, which exploded into this mix last volume with 3 tracks, now appears with a whopping four (but they’re all very short); Adrian von Ziegler (from volume II) finally returns; and we have two more tracks from both the 13th Age soundtrack (from two different composers: Chris J Nairn and Thery Ehrlich) and Michael Hoenig’s Baldur’s Gate II soundtrack.  Not to mention another track from the World of Warcraft soundtrack, and two more from the Witcher 3, including our amazing opener.

But of course we must have differences too.  For the first time, I don’t feature a track from the Shards of Eberron album that arguably inspired this whole mix.  There’s no Dead Can Dance this time out either, nor any zero-project.  Missing too are Epic Soul Factory and Faith and the Muse, and, perhaps most disappointing of all, no Loreena McKennitt.  Still, changes also mean new artists, and, to make up for McKennitt’s absence, we have a great piece from violinist Lindsey Stirling.  Stirling is one of those musical success stories that are truly inspirational:  She asked her parents for violin lessons and dance lessons, but they told her they could only afford one.  So she stuck with the violin lessons and taught herself to dance.  Then she started developing an act where she danced while playing violin, and everyone told her that no one wanted to see that.  So she took her impressive skills to YouTube and proved everyone wrong by amassing 13 million subscribers and over 3 billion views.  Stirling’s music is remarkable all on its own, but for the full effect you really have to visit her YouTube channel; you could start with the video for the track I use here, “The Arena.” This track has a bit of the McKennitt flair, but it’s also transcendently Stirling.  She has a fondness for fantasy-themed music (such as her Skyrim tribute with Peter Hollens), and I thought “The Arena” fit right in here.

I’ve also found a couple of new soundtracks to mine.  Greg Edmonson’s score to Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune, for instance, works well here; franchises such as Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, and Uncharted have a lot of traipsing around in jungles and ancient temples, which sort of makes them first cousins to D&D-style adventures.  Then there’s the Assassin’s Creed franchise, which is even closer to your average D&D campaign.  Here I’ve chosen one track from Jesper Kyd’s score for the first installment, and one from Brian Tyler’s for the fourth.  Staying on the videogame kick, we’ve got one track from Yuka Kitamura off the Dark Souls III soundtrack and one from Christopher Larkin’s excellent soundtrack for Hollow Knight, and even more Jeremy Soule, this time from his score for Oblivion, the Elder Scrolls game that immediately preceded Skyrim.

As our journey begins this time out, we’re sitting around a campfire with “Geralt of Rivia” telling “Tales Around the Fire”: after a hushed introduction, they start out quite dramatically, but soon lapse into a comfortable rhythm.  The next morning we begin traveling, exploring fantastical vistas and “Kismet,” which lead us to a “Night on the Desert,” where spooky things lurk in the darkness.  This brings us to a “Crossroads” of conscience, but we forge on into the dark, where mystical things await (“Soft Mystical Fantasy Theme”).  We stalk the magic by doing a bit of “Grave Robbing,” and the danger builds to an “Earth Shaker.” Then we’re immediately plunged into “Battle Aribeth.”

In its aftermath, “The Eyes of the Stone Thief” are upon us, leading to some creepy feelings of being watched.  But we forge on through the jungle, danger lurking at every turn (“Plane-Wrecked”), and then there’s a sudden “Skirmish,” from which we emerge victorious.  Then we must embark on a “Journey Through Anauroch,” which is apparently a romantic, foreign land, but, “In the End,” it is the dramatic bass tones of “Fjölnir” that lead us inevitably to “The Arena.”

After a whirlwind adventure on that field, it’s off to “The High Seas” where we end up “Commanding the Fury” in fierce ship-to-ship combat.  We arrive at our destination just in time for a “City Battle”; fleeing from that encounter, we pass through the sinister and eerie “Stranglethorn Vale” where we have a “Premonition” of danger, so it’s off to “Waterdeep, City of Splendors”—which we find has some similarities to the “City of Jerusalem”—to search for a “Secret Sanctuary.” There we encounter the “Sœurs martiales” (martial sisters) in all their stately grandeur.  That inevitably takes us to the “Final Confrontation” and bestows upon us our “Bloody Blades.” We acquire healing from “The Druid Grove” and reflect on fallen comrades (“Trost” is German for “consolation”).  Our journey is done, but the dramatic airs of the “Reign of the Septims” remind us that further adventures await on the morrow.

Eldritch Ætherium IV
[ Tales Around the Desert Crossroads between Aribeth and Anauroch, over the High Seas, beyond the Druid Grove ]

“Geralt of Rivia” by Marcin Przybyłowicz, off The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Soundtrack [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Tales Around the Fire” by Chris J Nairn, off The 13th Age Suite [RPG Soundtrack]
“Kismet” by bond, off Born
“Night on the Desert” by Jeremy Soule, off Neverwinter Nights [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Crossroads” by Christopher Larkin, off Hollow Knight [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Soft Mystical Fantasy Theme” by Ian Peter Fisher, off Soundtrack Music
“Grave Robbing” by Greg Edmonson, off Uncharted: Drake's Fortune [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Earth Shaker (Drums)” by audiomachine [Single]
“Battle Aribeth” by Jeremy Soule, off Neverwinter Nights [Videogame Soundtrack]
“The Eyes of the Stone Thief” by Thery Ehrlich, off The 13th Age Suite [RPG Soundtrack]
“Plane-Wrecked” by Greg Edmonson, off Uncharted: Drake's Fortune [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Skirmish” by Midnight Syndicate, off Dungeons & Dragons [RPG Soundtrack]
“Journey Through Anauroch” by Jeremy Soule, off Neverwinter Nights [Videogame Soundtrack]
“In the End” by Eklipse, off A Night in Strings
“Fjölnir” by Adrian von Ziegler, off Fable
“The Arena” by Lindsey Stirling, off Brave Enough
“The High Seas” by Brian Tyler, off Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Commanding the Fury” by Mikolai Stroinski, off The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Soundtrack [Videogame Soundtrack]
“City Battle II” by Michael Hoenig, off Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Stranglethorn Vale” by Jason Hayes, off World of Warcraft Soundtrack [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Premonition” by Yuka Kitamura, off Dark Souls III Soundtrack [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Waterdeep, City of Splendors” by Jeremy Soule, off Neverwinter Nights [Videogame Soundtrack]
“City of Jerusalem” by Jesper Kyd, off Assassin's Creed [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Secret Sanctuary” by Nox Arcana, off Winter's Majesty
“Sœurs martiales” by Xcyril, off Coeur Martial [Soundtrack]
“Final Confrontation” by Midnight Syndicate, off Dungeons & Dragons [RPG Soundtrack]
“Bloody Blades” by Jeremy Soule, off The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion [Videogame Soundtrack]
“The Druid Grove” by Michael Hoenig, off Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Trost” by Colm McGuinness [Single]
“Reign of the Septims” by Jeremy Soule, off The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion [Videogame Soundtrack]

Total:  30 tracks,  78:23

Whew! that’s a lot of tracks.  In fact, this is not only our longest volume title so far, but also our longest in terms of number of tracks (though not in terms of total time—9 of the songs are under 2 minutes, and another 12 are between two and three minutes).  There’s not a whole lot unexpected going on here, but let’s look at what there is.

You may recall French composer Xcyril from his two appearances on Phantasma Chorale I and his single track on Paradoxically Sized World VI.  Those other tracks were from what I believed to be “soundtrack portfolios”—that is a collection of tunes that are likely used to demonstrate the composers skills and hopefully net them a job.  Well, the track here appears to be from an actual movie—if a very short and experimental one (you can watch it yourself and form your own opinion)—called Coeur Martial.  So I guess it worked.  There’s also a track from Audiomachine, an LA-based production company that does music for film and television.  I can’t remember how I stumbled across “Earth Shaker (Drums)” (which is, by the way, different from “Earth Shaker”), but I think I saw that someone on the Internet had cobbled together a playlist for one of the D&D adventures (Tomb of Annihilation, perhaps) and this one I thought was just too perfect.

And that just leaves us with the two string quartets, both of which are attempting to update that very classical sound with a lot of modern production values.  First we have Australia’s bond, who play chamber music infused with a lot of glam, and perform it much like a girl group.  Their first album Born has a lot of great tracks on it, but “Kismet” was the one that I thought really gave that feel of traveling through a fantasy landscape.  Last but not least, Germany’s Eklipse do chamber music covers of pop songs and dress like über-goths.  Their first album, A Night in Strings, has some great covers, including this one, “In the End.” It’s a bit of a challenge to take a Linkin Park song and recontextualize it as a fantasy theme, but Eklipse did most of the work, and I think sandwiching it between Jeremy Soule and Adrian von Ziegler adds a bit as well.

Next time, we’ll take a second look at some indie ladies.

⇐ Eldritch Ætherium III

Eldritch Ætherium V ⇒

CollabGPT

This week I’ve been concentrating on setting up my file synchronization and versioning system.  For this, I’ve mainly been consulting with ChatGPT.  I originally wanted to hire an actual person to help me design and set this up, but I couldn’t find anyone who was both willing to work on my home system—what with me not being a business—and who seemed trustworthy (no shortage of shady characters, of course, but working on your network necessarily involves giving out your password, which is probably a Bad Thing to do in the case of randos on the Internet).  So I eventually decided to just ask ChatGPT and do whatever it said.

Well, perhaps not whatever it said, but, if you’re willing to put in a bit of effort to chastise it when it says something stupid and challenge it when it says something unlikely, you can actually get quite a lot out of it.  And it’s useful both in the design phase as well as the implementation phase.  Just about the only downside is that you have to start every chat fresh from ground zero (though there’s a new experimental feature which helps with that, a little).  And you can’t get around that by just staying in the same chat forever, because ChatGPT has a limited number of “tokens” (roughly equivalent to words) that it can remember before it starts forgetting the earliest parts of the conversation.

Still, you can get quite a lot accomplished even so.  Thanks to ChatGPT, I now have a system whereby I use Syncthing to handle synchronization across computers, and also provide versioning so that I can go back to the previous version of any file.  Now I’m working on getting that backed up to the cloud.

One of the fun things about ChatGPT’s limited memory is that sometimes you have to explain to it what it already figured out.  Today I started a new chat on this topic, as the old one was getting pretty full.  I told it:

I’ve designed a file synchronization and versioning system that works like this:
* There are seven shares, each of which is a filesystem with gigabytes of files.
* Haven and Avalir each have copies of six of the seven shares (there is one share that is not needed on each of those machines).
* Files are bidirectionally synchronized between Haven and Avalir using Syncthing.  No file versioning is used for these two servers.
* Zadash has a copy of all seven shares, with full file versioning (by which I mean keeping a copy of all versions forever).
* Editing of the files is done on Haven or Avalir only.  Since Syncthing only stores versions for remote edits, not local edits, if I edited files on Zadash, it would keep the previous version.  I do mount the shares from Haven to Zadash JIC I need to edit on Zadash, but the Syncthing copy is for archival purposes only.

To which ChatGPT responded:

You’ve outlined quite an advanced file synchronization system, ...

And I’m like, bitch, this was all your idea!

Anyways, that’s how my week went.  Next week, a longer topic, hopefully.

Of Waterfalls, Pigs, and Red Red Tape

Once upon a time we used to develop software via something known as the “waterfall model.” When trying to envision this, don’t think about something like Angel Falls, where the water just falls off a cliff.  Picture instead something along the lines of Detian Falls in Vietnam: a series of steps as the water drops, level by level, to its final destination.  See, back in those olden times (which, honestly, were mostly before I got into the industry, though there was some residual inertia even in the mid-80s, when I came along), back then, as I say, the specifications (or “specs”) were developed by one team, who then passed them along to the design team, who designed the whole system in a very abstract way, and then passed it along to the programming team, who did all the hard coding work, and then passed it along to the QA team, who verified that the functionality matched the original specs, and then they passed it on the customer and then it’s done.  The primarily analogy to a waterfall for this development model is that the water only flows one way: for the real-world waterfall, that’s due to gravity, and for the waterfall model, it’s because going backwards—“upstream,” if you will—is expensive.  You really want to get each phase just perfect, because if you find a mistake, you essentially have to start over ... and that costs the company money.  Sometimes, with this model, starting over was so expensive that they just didn’t.  The greatest stories of software development debacle were due to the sunk cost fallacy: too expensive to try get back up to the top of the waterfall, so we just gotta make due with whatever horror show we’ve ended up with.

So throughout the 80s and 90s software developers started saying there had to be a better way.  In 1986 the “spiral model” was proposed: it was built into the system that, instead of planning out the whole system at the beginning, you’d spec out just an initial prototype, then design that, code it, test, then go back to the spec stage and tack on more features.  Starting over was no longer a bug, but a feature.  Instead of losing a bunch of money because we had to start everything from scratch, we were only starting the next thing from scratch ... and, if we needed to tweak some stuff from the first iteration, well, we already had the mechanisms in place for specifying, desiging, coding, and testing.  Those phases were in our past, true: but they were also in our future.

Of course, the spiral model is a very abstract concept.  How do you actually implement such a thing?  That is, what are the actual processes that you put into place to make sure the company and its employees follow the model and achieve the goals of iterative design?  For that, we needed to move beyond models and into methodologies.  Enter Agile.

Agile software development practices, usually just referred to as “Agile,” were a way to concretize the spiral model abstraction.  Sometimes they would propose tweaks to the model, sure, but the main thing was, no going back to waterfall.  And, to distance themselves from those crusty old waterfall methodologies—many of which were by this point formalized as standards, such as the DOD’s 2167A—they all had cool new names: RAD (“Rapid Application Development”) and Scrum and Crystal Clear and Extreme Programming (if you didn’t just hear a Bill and Ted’s-style guitar lick, you’re doing it wrong).  This last one, usually abbreviated to “XP” (no relation to the Windows version) was not the first agile methodology to come along ... but it was the first one I was ever exposed to, and they say you never forget your first.

Kent Beck, author of “Extreme Programming Explained,” presented to me a perspective that literally changed my (software development) life.  He pointed out that, in order for the waterfall model to work, you have to be able to predict the future.  The whole thing is predicated on predicting what problems will happen, anticipating them, and building them into the plan.  If you fail to predict something, then everything falls apart.  Except ... humans really suck at predicting the future.  When we say “predict,” what we really mean is “guess.” And we usually guess wrong.  As Kent so succinctly put it:

The problem isn’t change, per se, because change is going to happen; the problem, rather, is the inability to cope with change when it comes.

Stop trying to keep change from happening: it’s a fool’s errand.  Rather, create a better methodology which says “yeah, things change: so what? we got that covered.”

Agile is all about being flexible.  Hell, the reason it’s called “agile” is because the old waterfall methodologies were ponderous and slow to course-correct.  It’s common for business people to talk about agility in terms of responding to changes in the market: the creators of the Agile Manifesto (one of whom was Beck himself) wanted to capitalize on that perception.  Our development practices can make your company more agile, and that makes you quicker to respond, and that helps you beat your competitors.

And yet ... it’s kind of strange that we need all these procedures and guideliness and principles and a whole friggin’ manifesto to perform something for which the entire purpose is to be flexible.  The thing I never liked about XP, despite all its merits (and the aforementioned life-changing-ness), was that it had all these notes about how, if you’re not following every single rule, then you’re not “doing” XP.  You’re just playing at it.  I always found that inherent dichotomy cognitively dissonant: so I have to do things exactly according to these rules so that I can break the rules? I have rigidly fit into the straitjacket so that I can have the flexibility to move freely? I have to precisely walk the straight line so that I have the freedom to jump in any direction?  Surely you see the contradiction.

And XP is certainly not alone in this strange philosophy.  I’m not sure we can claim any of the Agile methodologies to have “won,” but in my experience Scrum has made the most extensive inroads into corporate culture.  And it is chock full of prescriptive little strictures: mandatory stand-up meetings with strict time limits and precisely defined cycles called “sprints” and detailed reporting pathways between developers and business owners.  Maybe all this red tape is why business people have embraced it more than the other Agile practices.  But it presents a weird, oxymoronic message to the developers: we want to you to be free, we want you have flexibility, but you have to all these things, just so.  And sometimes the business owners can get very upset if you question this.  Because they’ve been trained, you see?  They’ve taken courses in “how to do Agile” and “how to run Scrum” and all that, and (of course) all those courses stressed that you have to do everything perfectly or else it will all fall apart, so as soon as the developer suggests that maybe we should change this one thing because it’s actually making our lives harder ... well, it won’t be pretty, let me tell you.

One of things I always liked about Scrum was that they made clear the difference between involvement vs commitment.  The traditional explanation for this is via the fable of the pig and the chicken.  Now, these days Agile folks will tell you not to use that story to explain things any more.  The first reason they cite is that people will take offense: calling someone a pig implies they’re greedy, or dirty; calling them a chicken implies that they’re cowardly.  These are, of course, human metaphors that we’ve placed on those particular animals, and also they have nothing to do with the actual story.  But people won’t hear the message, they point out, if they’re hung up on the words used to deliver it.  I would probably say that people will look to any excuse to get offended, especially if it gets them out of following rules, but I’m a bit more of a cynic.

The story points out that, in the context of preparing a breakfast of eggs and bacon, the chicken is involved, but the pig is committed.  This is a very simple concept to grasp, and the analogy illustrates it perfectly, but, yes, yes: let us not offend anyone.  I would be fine if this first reason were the only reason that modern Agile advocates had dropped the pig and chicken story: that would just mean that they had replaced it with a different analogy that perhaps involved more noble animals, or fruits, or something.  But, no: they’ve started to question the whole concept.  See, the original point of pigs and chickens was to point out to the business people that it wasn’t particularly fair (or, you know, sensible) for them to set deadlines for how long something would take.  They weren’t the ones doing it.  The developers have to actually accomplish the thing, and they know how long it should take (even if they’re bad at estimating that for other reasons, which are happily addressed by other Agile practices).  The business owners are involved, but the developers are committed.  This not only stresses to the business folks that they don’t get to say how long something takes, but it also stresses to the developers that, once they say how long it will take, they’ve made a commitment to getting it done in that timeframe.  These are all good things.

But not so, says the Updated Scrum Guide.  Those poor business people shouldn’t be made to feel like they can’t dictate timelines.  “In some cases these people were key project sponsors or critical system matter experts. These are individuals who, while possibly needing some education and guidance from a Scrum Master, can be critical to the success of a project.” If you’re not familiar with how to translate business bullshit back into English, this means “we want the business people to feel important, and they don’t like it when we try to put restrictions on them, and if I say it this way it’ll make you think that you developers are actually gaining something, rather than that we’re just caving in and letting the business people run roughshod over all we’ve built.” The thing I always liked about the Agile practices was that they were pretty balanced in terms of business vs development.  They said to the developers “we want you to feel respected and like your creativity is valued, and you should be in control of what you produce and the quality of your work.” But they also said to the business side “we want you to feel respected and like your market acumen is valued, and you should be in control of what gets produced and how viable it is as a product.” See? everybody is respected equally.  When you start breaking down that balance, bad things happen.

And maybe business people feel empowered to just set some processes up because it sounds good, or because it looks official, or maybe, like most other humans in workplaces, they just like telling other people what to do.  And maybe those processes actually slow things down instead of making them more efficient.  And maybe the developers feel like they can’t speak up any more—it’s no longer the case that they’re the ones who are committed because everyone’s committed now—or maybe they do speak up but they’re ignored because setting up workflow processes ... that’s above your paygrade, don’t you know.  And gradually, slowly, everything goes back to the bad old ways when we spent way more time talking about getting things done than actually doing things.

Doesn’t feel very agile, does it?

I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be ... but if you wait around a while ...

Well, the computer setup is going fairly well ... but not well enough that I have a longer post for you this week.  Still, despite the work dragging on, I can safely say that things are better than they were before I started ... before the machines started being flaky, even.  So I’m well enough satisfied with the progress, even if I feel a little bad for slipping on the posting schedule.  But that’s the way it goes sometimes.

Next week will be better, I can just feel it.

Springs Eternal

Several months ago, my work machine started flaking out, so I got the folks at work to order me a new one.  It came, and I was able to use it to work around my immediate problems, but I never got the chance to completely switch over to using it—too much work shit going on.  Well, a few weeks ago, my laptop started flaking out.  And, as of Friday, my new laptop has arrived, and now I have two machines to set up and get configured and transfer hundreds of thousands of files to.  Lucky me.

So, even if I had planned to do a full post this week (which I had not), I simply wouldn’t have the time: I’ve got a laptop to configure, a desktop to configure, gigabytes to copy, filesystems to share, my wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it—I’m swamped.  Still, there’s some hope that, after this process (as difficult as it may be), things will be better.  Honestly, I’d be happy if they were just not worse than they were before all this madness started, but I suppose I can’t help but hope for better.  Call me foolish if you must: I won’t deny it.  We’ll see how it goes.

Shadowfall Equinox VIII

"Oceans of Storm Clouds"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the introduction for more background.  You may also want to check out the first volume in this multi-volume mix for more info on its theme.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

Last volume I noted that Shadowfall Equinox was catching up to Salsatic Vibrato in terms of number of volumes.  And, with this latest one, they’re officially tied.  Realistically, I think SfE may hit a volume IX before SVb does.  We shall see.

As I said last time, the primary reason is that Equinox is what I use for background music when I work, and this volume is no exception to that.  And, as usual when getting to these large numbers of volumes, the challenge is to bring something fresh to the mix without abandoning the dependable artists that have been with us on every volume.  Let’s see how we did.

In the category of repeating artists, there’s one who has been on every volume, and two who have been on every volume but one, and they’re all three here.  The inimitable Jeff Greinke is certainly back, with an album we haven’t heard from yet on this mix: Winter Light.¹  “Mountain in the Clouds” is the same drifting, ethereal ambient that we’ve come to expect from Greinke, but this album has more of a brittle, crisp feeling, as the seasonal reference in its title implies.  Still, I feel this particular track works in a more autumnal setting, which is what this mix is all about.  As for pianist Kevin Keller,² “Stillness” is a melancholy, cello-heavy piece that’s pretty perfect for the mix.  And, finally, darkwave masters Black Tape for a Blue Girl³ also provide a cello-heavy piece, “Fitful.” This is a particularly ambient track for Rosenthal, with the occasional crescendo of what might be brass (or just synth), and the gentle, almost unnoticeable, wordless vocals of an uncredited female singer.

Other returning artists include Ruben Garcia (seen on volumes IV, V, and VII) and Ludovico Einaudi (seen on volume VI), whom I paired back to back so that Einaudi’s spare piano on “In Principio” could highlight Garcia’s departure from that style with some fuller, synthy work on “Five Dreams from Yesterday” (which really sounds more like Greinke than Garcia’s normal output); Dead Can Dance and Loreena McKennitt (who I paird on volume V), here again with a touch of worldmusic: on V, I used McKennitt followed by DCD as an opener, whereas here I’ve followed DCD’s somber “Agape” with McKennitt’s beautiful “Tango to Evora” as our closer; and, last but not least, cellist Jami Sieber (seen on volume IV).

Cello, in fact, is a pretty common instrument for this mix: we’ve heard not only from Sieber before, but also cellist David Darling and groups like Amber Asylum and Angels of Venice who feature full-time cellists.  Plus various guest cellists: Martin McGarrick on This Mortal Coil tracks, Audrey Riley on Hope Blister tracks, and Mera Roberts on several Black Tape for a Blue Girl songs.  Here, I’ve put together a solid block of cello music as our centerpiece: 5 songs in a row, and I kick it off with Eugene Friesen.  He’s a recent find for me, which explains why we haven’t seen him here yet, but he’s been around since the 80s, and I think he may become a regular here.  For his debut on this mix, I’ve chose the title track from his 2005 album In the Shade of Angels, a very spare, not-quite-melancholy, ultimately gorgeous instrumental to kick off the block.  From there we go into the melancholy track from the Kevin Keller Ensemble (including Clarice Jensen on cello), and then to Colm McGuinness, who we’ve mostly seen in this series as a purveyor of gaming music: his “Welcome to Wildemount” is the explosive opener of Eldritch Ætherium II, and he has one more track there as well as one on the following volume.  But he’s also an excellent cellist (as well as playing many other instruments) and “Koala” is a sweeping yet still tenebrous track that is perfect for the midpoint of this block.  Then we hit Sieber, who is surely my favorite cellist of all time, with “The Burning Dawn” from 2013’s Timeless.  It’s an anticipatory track, though it’s not clear exactly what the listener is waiting for.  But it carries us sedately to the block closer, BTfaBG’s “Fitful.” Frequent contributor Mera Roberts plays the cello here, and the light, wordless vocals may well be Roberts herself, who provides vocals as well as cello for her other two projects.⁴  She’s very talented, and lifts this BTfaBG track to a level of sublime I don’t think it could otherwise achieve.

And, speaking of blocks of tracks, I close out the mix with a fun triad of worldmusic, starting with Thievery Corporation’s “Indra.” The DC-based Corporation is normally too upbeat for this mix: we normally see them in places like Smokelit Flashback (volumes III and V), Paradoxically Sized World (volumes I and IV), and Apparently World.  Still, we also heard from them on Zephyrous Aquamarine and even once on Numeric Driftwood (volume IV), so we know they can do mellow when the mood calls for it.  And “Indra,” while it maintains a decently strong hip-hop beat, really brings the dreamy trip-hop with some Middle Eastern flair.  Then to “Agape,” continuing the Middle Eastern theme with what is probably an oud and a qanun, layered with more of Lisa Gerrard’s powerful vocals, singing in a language which might be Earthly or might be just Gerrard’s glossolalia.  And we close with McKennitt’s “Tango to Evora,” which starts out with a simple flamenco-style guitar and then layers on violin, harp, and finally McKennitt’s angelic wordless vocals.  A gentle, soothing track which makes for an amazing closer.

Once again, we’re quite short on lyrics to draw a volume title from, so I used the now-typical method in such situations (that is, I plucked words from various song titles and glued them together).  I actually really like this particular one.

Shadowfall Equinox VIII
[ Oceans of Storm Clouds ]

“For the West Coast Dark Ambient Bedroom Warriors” by the Mountain Goats, off Goths
“Oceans of Change” by Stray Theories, off Oceans, Volume 1 [EP]⁵
“Tanaris” by Tracy W. Bush, off World of Warcraft Soundtrack [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Aquarium” by Casino Versus Japan, off Whole Numbers Play the Basics
“Stay with Me” by Clint Mansell, off The Fountain [Soundtrack]
“In Principio” by Ludovico Einaudi, off Nightbook
“Five Dreams from Yesterday” by Ruben Garcia, off Lakeland
“Riders on the Storm” by Yonderboi [Single]
“In the Shade of Angels” by Eugene Friesen, off In the Shade of Angels
“Stillness” by Kevin Keller, off In Absentia
“Koala” by Colm R. McGuinness [Single]
“The Burning Dawn” by Jami Sieber, off Timeless
“Fitful” by Black Tape for a Blue Girl, off Remnants of a Deeper Purity
“Mountain in the Clouds” by Jeff Greinke, off Winter Light
“Seelenlos” by Scabeater, off Necrology
“Indra” by Thievery Corporation, off The Mirror Conspiracy
“Agape” by Dead Can Dance, off Anastasis
“Tango to Evora” by Loreena McKennitt, off The Visit

Total:  18 tracks,  80:11

Clint Mansell’s beautiful if haunting score for The Fountain makes its first appearance here; “Stay with Me” is a slow, synthy track that seems to have ghostly tones in its background.  The World of Warcraft soundtrack also makes its first appearance outsdide Eldritch Ætherium, where I used two of Jason Hayes’ tracks on volume III.  This is a Tracy W. Bush composition, “Tanaris,” which also has a very haunted quality, as well as sounding somewhat oceanic.  I thought it might be a bit too much to put those two back to back, so I broke them up with an interesting track I found while looking for different versions of Saint-Saëns’ “Aquarium.”⁶  This track of the same name by Casino Versus Japan (the musical moniker of Wisconsin electronica artist Erik Paul Kowalski) has nothing to do with the piece from Le Carnaval des Animaux, but it’s a great, underwatery ambient/downtempo piece that I’m glad to have stumbled onto by accident.

For the rest, there’s nothing too unexpected here.  Stray Theories is a cinematic and electronica project by New Zealand artist Micah Templeton-Wolfe; “Oceans of Change” is a gorgeous ambient piece that flows insanely well off of our opener and sets us up for the more cinematic tracks to come.  That opener, of course, is the exquisitely named Mountain Goats’ track “For the West Coast Dark Ambient Bedroom Warriors,” which is, as the Brits would say, exactly what it says on the tin.  John Darnielle’s long-running (since 1994) project is musically eclectic, and was originally a one-man affair, though by the time of 2017’s Goths, he was opening up to more long-term bandmates.  This amazingly spare track is, as its name suggests, the epitome of what this mix is all about, so the second I heard it I knew it had to be a volume opener.  It’s a bit of a departure for the Mountain Goats, but then you can say that about most of their songs, so it starts to become meaningless after a while.

And that just leaves us with a small bridge from Scabeater, a band not only so obscure that neither AllMusic nor Wikipedia know they exist—which, you may recall, are my criteria for “really obscure band”—but even Discogs says “hunh??” when you ask about them.⁷  I found Scabeater on Jamendo, and their Skinny-Puppy-adjacent brand of industrial-flavored goth is certainly not for everyone—hell, a lot of it isn’t even for me—but they hit a winner every once in a while, and the 46 seconds of strings-backed piano simplicity that is “Seelenios” is just sublime.  For the longest time, “Mountain in the Clouds” just butted directly up against “Indra,” and it wasn’t working for me, but I couldn’t figure out what to do about it, until I remembered this perfect little bridge.

And that just leaves us with perhaps the oddest choice, Hungarian producer László Fogarasi Jr., better known as Yonderboi, who here graces us with an instrumental, jazzy-to-the-point-of-being-loungy version of “Riders on the Storm” by the Doors.  I love the original track (it is almost certainly my favorite Doors song), and something about this offbeat cover really caught my ear.  It takes the song in a completely different direction (as all the best covers do) and is somehow faithful to its inspiration while also being a completely new song.  I’ve drug it around through several volumes of this mix, never quite finding the perfect placement for it, until it finally managed to land here.  Its Hammond-organ-style melody flows beautifully off the fading synth of Garcia’s “Five Dreams,” and it serves as the perfect palate cleanser before we leap into the 5-cello block of Friesen / Keller / McGuinness / Sieber / BTfaBG.  I’m glad I finally found it a home.

Next time, we’ll look at some more creativity-inducing gaming music.

⇐ Shadowfall Equinox VII

Shadowfall Equinox IX ⇒

__________

1 Although I used “Orographic” from that album on Mystical Memoriam.

2 Seen on every volume except the first.

3 Seen on every volume except IV.

4 Mera is half of Mercurine, a third-wave goth band that occupies the same space between goth and industrial as Faith and the Muse, and all of Oblivia, a cello-driven dark ambient project reminiscent of Amber Asylum, but with more vocals.  Both are relatively unknown, and both undeservedly so.

5 You guys know how much I hate to link to YouTube, but I can’t find anywhere else to get this song.

6 I used one version on Classical Plasma I and one on Phantasma Chorale I.

7 I may have to invent a new term ... super duper obscure band, perhaps?

Dinner and a Show

Today was Father’s Day, and we took the whole family out for a teppan yaki lupper.  If you don’t know what “lupper” is, it’s a meal about halfway between lunch and supper, in the same way that “brunch” is halfway between breakfast and lunch.  Of course, according to the terminology I was raised with, “lupper” is still dinner, despite the odd timing, because “dinner” means “the biggest meal of the day, no matter what time you eat it.” But that’s a technicality.

If you don’t know what “teppan yaki” is, it’s the Japanese cuisine where they cook on the table (which is apparently called a “teppan,” although most of us Americans just say “hibachi”).  Where I’m from (the DC-VA-NC East Coast corridor), we typically just called it ”Benihana,” because that was the only such place there was.  Well, at least that’s the way it was when I was growing up, which admittedly was a long time ago.

But, here in Southern California (and/or here in the aftertimes), we had a whole bunch of options, of which Benihana was only one (and not even the best one, apparently).  We went with a place called Musashi, which, going by their website, used to have 3 locations, but is now down to just one (the pandemic was not kind to most restaurants, but for teppanyaki restaurants in particular—where more than half the point is the showmanship of the meal preparation, so take-out isn’t as enticing—I’m guessing it was devastating).  Anyway, Musashi has been around since 1981, which is one of those years that seems ancient to my children but doesn’t seem that long ago to me.  But, it was 42 years ago, which is at least long ago enough that it seems like these folks know what they’re doing.  So, I don’t really want to tell you how much it cost us, but the food was excellent, and the kids seemed to enjoy the show (and, honestly, that was the main reason I wanted to go).  So I call it a success.

Next time, a longer post, assuming all goes well.

Do Androids Dream of IQ Tests?

Recently, I was listening to a podcast—it happened to be Election Profit Makers, with the lovely and talented David Rees.¹  In this particular episode,² David offers this “hot take”:

I also think AI is kinda bullshit.  I’ve been thinking about it; I think there’s some stuff that AI can do, but on the other hand it really is not ... we shouldn’t call it AI.  Someone was making this point, that calling it “artificial intelligence” is kind of propaganda.  It’s not really intelligent yet.  It’s just like a word prediction algorithm, you know?  You give it a topic—it doesn’t know what it’s saying.  It’s ... it’s like an algorithm that predicts what the—given any word or paragraph, it predicts what the next most likely word is, I think.  I don’t think it really thinks ... I don’t think it’s artificial intelligence.

Of course, I put “hot take” in quotes because it’s not particularly hot: as David himself notes, other people have been making this observation for a while now, especially in relation to ChatGPT.  I gave my own opinions of ChatGPT several months ago, and it’s only become more pervasive, and more useful, since then.  Now, David’s assessment is not wrong ... but it’s also not complete, either.  David’s not a tech guy.  But I am.  So I want to share my opinion with you on this topic, but, be forewarned: I’m going to ask a lot of questions and not necessarily provide a lot of answers.  This is one of those topics where there aren’t any clear answers, and asking the questions is really the point of the exercise.

So, first let’s get the one minor detail that David is wrong about out of the way.  What David is referring to here are the LLMs, like ChatGPT.  To be pendantic about it, LLMs are just one form of AI: they just happen to be the one that’s hot right now, because it’s the one that’s shown the most promise.  If you’ve had the opportunity to interact with ChatGPT or any of its imitators, you know what I mean.  If not ... well, just take my word for it.  LLMs are extremely useful and extremely promising, and the closest we’ve come so far to being to talk to a machine like a person.³  But they are not the totality of AI, and I’m sure there will be AI in the future that is not based on this technology, just as there was in the past.

But, forgiving that understandable conflation, what about this notion that an LLM is just a “predictive algorithm,” and it doesn’t actually think, and therefore it’s a misnomer to refer to it as “intelligence”?  David goes on to cite (badly) the “Chinese room” thought experiment; if you’re unfamiliar, I encourage you to read the full Wikipedia article (or at least the first two sections), but the synopsis is, if a computer program could take in questions in Chinese and produce answers in Chinese, and do so sufficiently well to fool a native Chinese speaker, then a person who neither speaks, reads, nor understands Chinese could be operating that program, and taking in the questions, and passing back the answers.  Obviously you would not say that the person could speak Chinese, and so therefore you can’t really say that the program speaks Chinese either.  Analogously, a program which simulates intelligent thought isn’t actually intelligent ... right?

This immediately reminds me of another podcast that I listen to, Let’s Learn Everything.  On their episode “Beaver Reintroductions, Solving Mazes, and ASMR,”⁴ Tom Lum asks the question “How does a slime mold solve a maze?” A slime mold is, after all, one of the lowest forms of life.  It doesn’t even have any neurons, much less a brain.  How could it possibly solve a maze?  Well, it does so by extending its body down all possible pathways until it locates the food.  Once it’s done that, it retracts all its psuedopods back into itself, leaving only the shortest path.

Now, the conclusion that Tom (as well as his cohosts Ella and Caroline) arrived at was that this isn’t really “solving” the maze.  Tom also had some great points on whether using maze-solving as a measure of intelligence makes any sense at all (you should really check out the episode), but let’s set that aside for now.  Presuming that being able to solve a maze does indicate something about the level of intelligence of a creature, isn’t it sort of sour grapes to claim that the slime mold did it the “wrong” way?  We used our big brains to figure out the maze, but when a creature who doesn’t have our advantages figures out a way to do complete the task anyway, we suddenly claim it doesn’t count?

Let’s go a step further.  If I give the maze to a person to solve, and they laboriously try every possible pathway until they find the shortest one, then are they really doing anything differently than the slime mold?  And does that mean that the person is not intelligent, because they didn’t solve the maze the way we thought they should?  I mean, just keeping track of all the possible pathways, and what you’ve tried already ... that requires a certain amount of intelligence, no?  Of course we lack the advantages of the slime mold—being able to stretch our bodies in such a way as to try all the pathways at once—but we figured out a way to use our brains to solve the problem anyhow.  I wonder if the slime mold would snort derisively and say “that doesn’t count!”

Now let’s circle back to the LLMs.  It is 100% true that all they’re doing is just predicting what the next word should be, and the next word after that, and so on.  No one is denying that.  But now we’re suddenly faced with deciding whether or not that counts as “intelligence.” Things that we’ve traditionally used to measure a person’s intelligence, such as SAT scores, are no problem for LLMs, which are now passing LSATs and bar exams in the top 10%.  But that doesn’t “count,” right?  Because it’s not really thinking.  I dunno; kinda feels like we’re moving the goalposts a bit here.

Part of the issue, of course, is that we really don’t have the slightest idea how our brains work.  Oh, sure, we can mumble on about electrical impulses and say that this part of the brain is responsible for this aspect of cognition based on what lights up during a brain scan, but, at the end of the day, we can’t really explain what’s going on in there when you can’t remember something today that you had no trouble with yesterday, or when you have a crazy idea out of nowhere, or when you just know that your friend is lying to you even though you can’t explain how you know.  Imagine some day in the far future where scientists discover, finally, that the way most of our thinking works is that words are converted to symbols in our brains, and we primarily talk by deciding what the next logical symbol should be, given the current context of who we’re talking to and what we’re talking about.  If that were to ever happen, seems like we’d owe these LLMs a bit of an apology.  Or would we instead decide that that aspect of how we think isn’t “really” thinking, and that there must be something deeper?

Look, I’m not saying that ChatGPT (for example) actually is intelligent.  I’m just pointing out that we don’t have a very clear idea, ourselves, what “intelligent” actually means.  It’s like the infamous Supreme Court definition of obscenity: we can’t define intelligence, but we know it when we see it, and this ain’t it.  But what I find to be a more interesting question is this: why does it matter?

An LLM like ChatGPT serves a purpose.  Now, overreliance on it can be foolish—just check out the case of the lawyers who tried to use ChatGPT to write their legal briefs for them.  As the Legal Eagle points out in that video, their idiocy was not so much the use of an LLM in the first place, but rather the fact that they never bothered to double check its work.  So you can’t always rely on it 100% ... but isn’t that true of people as well?  Honestly, if you’re a lawyer and you get a person to do your work, you’re still responsible for their mistakes if you sign your name at the bottom and submit it to a judge.  An incisive quote from the video:

... the media has talked about how this is lawyers using ChatGPT and things going awry.  But what it’s really revealing is that these lawyers just did an all around terrible job and it just happened to tangentially involve ChatGPT.

So you can talk to an LLM as if it were a person, it talks back to you as if it were a person, it can give you information like a person, and oftentimes more information that you can get from most of the persons you know, and you can rely it as exactly as much (or, more to the point, exactly as little) as you can rely on another person.  But it’s not a person, and it’s not really “thinking” (whatever that means), so therefore it’s not “intelligent.” Is that all just semantics?  And, even if it is, is this one of those cases where semantics is important?

I’ve got to say, I’m not sure it is.  I think every person reading this has to decide that for themselves—I’m not here to provide pat answers—but I think it’s worth considering why we’re so invested in things like LLMs not being considered intelligent.  Does it threaten our place up here at the top of the food chain?  (Or perhaps that should be “the top of the brain chain” ...)  Should we seriously worry that, if an AI is intelligent, that it poses a threat to the existence of humanity?  Many of the big tech folks seem to think so.  I personally remain unconvinced.  The Internet was proclaimed to be dangerous to humanity, as were videogames, television, rock-and-roll ... hell, even books were once considered to be evil things that tempted our children into avoiding reality and made them soft by preventing them from playing outside.  Yet, thus far, we’ve survived all these existential threats.  Maybe AI is The One which will turn out to be just as serious as people claim.  But probably not.

And, if it is the case that AI won’t take over the world and enslave or destroy us, then what difference does it really make whether or not it’s “technically” intelligent?  If it’s being useful, and if we can learn how to use it effectively without shooting ourselves in the foot, that’s good enough for me.  Perhaps it can be good enough for you as well.

[For complete transparency, I must say that, while ChatGPT did not write any of the words in this post, it did come up with the title.  Took it six tries, but it finally came up with something I felt was at least moderately clever.  So, if you like it, it’s because I’m very good at prompting LLMs, and, if you hate it, it’s because ChatGPT is not very smart.  This is one of the primary advantages of having an LLM as a contributor: I can hog all the credit and it will never be offended.]

__________

1 If you’re not familiar—and can figure out where to stream it—you should check out his Going Deep series.  It’s excellent.

2 Approximately 40 minutes in, if you want to follow along at home.

3 “LLM” stands for “large language model,” by the way, although knowing that is really unnecesssary to follow along on this topic.

4 Again, if you want to follow along at home, jump to about 44:45.

Puzzle Progress

Well, I finally kicked off my baby girl’s birthday campaign, and I think it started off pretty well.  She (and my eldest’s partner) seemed to enjoy it at any rate.  The other two kids ... well, let’s just say that they more of the “I don’t have patience with anything I can’t kill” school of D&D.  Still, they’re contributing, and I think they may come around.  And, if they don’t ... welll, it isn’t their birthday game.

Longer post next time, most likely.

Music Story #3: Into the Groove

[This is the third post in a sub-series of my music mix series.  It’s basically a story about some music discovery event in my life, so it’s a combo of music info and personal history info.  You can find a list of all the music stories in the mix series list.

This is one I originally published on my work’s Slack channel #tunes.  It’s a shorter post than usual, but I thought it worh sharing nonetheless.]

This sub-series has covered music in various formats.  But they’ve all been about music formats that you buy.  Obviously that’s not the only way we hear music—in fact, one might argue that we hear way more music for free than we ever do paying for it.  And that’s primarily because of one thing: radio.  Or it used to be, anyway, before the Internet came along.  I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with radio.  Here’s a thing which happened to me recently that may help illuminate that.

A week ago today, we packed up the whole family and went to the Renn Faire (I wrote about this last week).  My youngest had never been, and the other two hadn’t been in years (and the eldest’s partner had also never been), so there were six of us.  Obviously we weren’t going to fit in my Prius, so into The Mother‘s SUV we hopped.

Now, The Mother’s SUV is old enough not to have a Bluetooth connection for the sound system; it used to have an “aux” plug that we would just plug our phones into, but the jack got wonky, so we either have to do CD’s, or listen to the actual radio like we’re the Flintstones or something.  For this trip, we decided to do the radio.

Now, when I listen to the radio, I have a very low tolerance for songs I don’t like, and zero tolerance for commericals, so it’s a constant bouncing around of stations.  The Mother has programmed all 12 possible FM stations with something, even if one is country and one is classical, so it’s like we really only had 10 stations.  But it’s an eclectic mix: KROQ, K-Earth (our local oldies station), Jack FM (which there’s one of in every market, I gather), MyFM (current pop music), etc.  We were just as likely to hear Led Zeppelin as Lady Gaga (both of which we did hear on the trip, for the record).

[Brief tangent: I don’t typically like pop, so I would never listen to stations like MyFM in my own car.  Still, there’s almost always one song by every megapop star that I really love.  So I hate Ricky Martin, except for “La Vida Loca,” which is awesome.  Can’t stand Whitney Houston, except for “How Will I Know?” which I adore.  Or, for a more contemporary example, I’m fairly unimpressed by Olivia Rodrigo ... except that “Brutal” is absolutely bangin’.  I’ve never really cottoned to Taylor Swift either, and thus far had also never found her one exception.  But I stumbled across “Anti Hero” on the way to Renn Faire and I was like, shit, that’s Taylor Swift??  It’s great.  (I had a similar reaction to “How Will I Know?” ... for months I was convinced it was the Pointer Sisters and that’s why I loved the song so much.  But I digress.  In my digression.)]

Anyways, there was a fair amount of 80s music, as K-Earth—who originally played like fifties music when i first arrived in Cali—now considers 80s music old.  Bastards.  But, nonetheless, we heard some 80s classics on the ride down, like “Our Lips Are Sealed” by the Go-Go’s, “White Wedding” by Billy Idol, and “Into the Groove” by Madonna.

Then we had a lovely day at the Renn Faire (although it was was more vendors and way fewer entertaining bits than I’d remembered), and we got in the truck again to head home.  On the way, we heard “We Got the Beat” by the Go-Go’s, which wasn’t too surprising ... but also “White Wedding” again.  Then, a half an hour later, there was “Into the Groove” again.  Weird.  I probably hadn’t listened to any Madonna in a few decades—Madonna is less of a megapop-star-with-one-good-song-exception to me, and more like a used-to-be-a-cool-alternative-singer-then-turned-megapop-star-and-so-I-stopped-liking-them type thing.  Early Madonna is great: “Lucky Star” is awesome, “Borderline” and “Holiday” are pretty good too.  Then you get to “Material Girl,” which is still pretty good, and “Like a Virgin” is okay, and by the time you hit “Papa Don’t Preach” I’m pretty much checked out.  So “Into the Groove” is right on that borderline (pun inteneded, I suppose) between good-to-mediocre Madonna and bleaugh Madonna.  So I’ve probably listened to Madonna at some point in the past couple of decades, but certainly not that particular song.

Friday I had jury duty.  My county’s courthouse is about an hour’s drive for me, and it was The Mother’s truck again (for family-vehicle-related reasons).  By this time it was all 80s Memorial Day weekend or somesuch on K-Earth and KROQ was doing some sort of “top 500” thing, so I was mainy back and forth between those two.  And I heard “Into the Groove” again.  And I was like, what the fuck is going on???

Yesterday we drove my middle child out to another city about an hour away (though in the opposite direction) for homeschool prom.  We took the youngest with us and went out to dinner to kill time so we didn’t have to drive all the way to Glendale and back twice in one night.  On the way back home, guess what came on the radio again?  Yes, that’s right: “Into the Groove.” By Madonna.  Again.  A song from nearly forty years ago (I looked it up: it was released in 1985) that I haven’t heard in around twenty years and now I’ve heard it four times in a week.  On the radio.  Which I rarely listen to any more.  What the fuck is up with the universe?  I was ranting in the car a bit about how unlikely it was that I heard this stupid song 4 times in a week when i hadn’t heard it once in the past 20 years, and my middle child opined that perhaps the universe wanted me to refamiliarize myself with the song.  I was like, I was plenty refamiliarized by play #2: numbers 3 and 4 were just redundant.

So, anyway, that’s my random weird radio story for the day.  Or week.  Or month—hell, probably for the year.  I hope.

How Doth Fare Thee, M'Lord?

Today we took a trip to the Renn Faire (or the Renaissance Pleasure Faire, as it’s more properly known).  Our youngest had never been, and the pandemic is totally over (right?), and our eldest is back in town (with their partner), so it seemed like a good year to do it.  I have to say, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I have in the past.  But perhaps I’m just too old for this shit, as Danny Glover is wont to say.  Here are my observations:

• It’s very dusty, and very hot.  I’m sure this was true in past years as well, but I was definitely in better shape back in those days.
• There are way more vendors.  I wondered if maybe I was just misremembering how many there used to be, but Christy agreed with me that this was far more than last time (which was, to be fair, probably around 10 years ago, if not more).  Essentially, we had to hunt for non-stores in between all the stores—it was crazy.  There were 3 shows, 1 one which was terrible, and the joust, which was so packed we had no hope of getting in.  And a few games (archery, throwing axes, that sort of thing).  Other than that, just rows and rows (and rows) of shops, overpriced food stalls, and sellers of of $7 water bottles.
• Our middle child (that would be the one with the heart condition) really does not handle heat well.  I think they might be done with Renn Faires and amusement parks and that sort of thing.
• I could be wrong, but I swear I walked right past Amy Dallen (late of Geek & Sundry, currently at D&D Beyond).  I would have stopped to say “hey,” but people were moving along so fast, I barely registered it was her before she was out of sight.  Perhaps not a major celebrity sighting, but still worth sharing.
• Other than food and drinks and parking, we bought some fancy honey, and the youngest got a pretty nicely carved wand for only $20.  Other than that, everything was just too pricey for us.
• The youngest claims to have enjoyed herself, so I suppose it was all worthwhile in the end.

So, I’m not sorry we went, but man am I exhausted.  Until next week.

Dreamtime II

"Colourless and Dangerous"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the series introduction for general background.  You may also want to check out the first volume in this multi-volume mix for more info on its theme.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

As I discussed last time, Dreamtime is one of the mixes (the first, actually) that I developed after the pre-modern mixes but before the “modern” mixes.  (I used to call these “mood” mixes, but it wasn’t a very distinguishing term, which is why I now use “transitional” instead.¹)  None of these were every designed with any thought to burning them on CD, which is why part of the challenge of updating them is finding natural volume groups.  Even after adding a few tracks to what is now Dreamtime I, what I had left over from the original Dreamtime playlist wasn’t really sufficient to make a volume II ... in some ways.  It had just about enough length, but it didn’t have any throughline, and it also had that really long track that I mentioned last time, which meant that pretty much as soon as I started adding tracks to make it a bit more coherent, it became too long.  So, I set aside a few tracks for a potential volume III—including the really long one²—and started filling out the rest.  And now here we are.

There’s a few returning artists.  Of course we need to hear from the inimitable A Produce again, and once again he’s our closer.  A Produce tracks are just really great for that, and “The Far Shore” is no exception.  It’s slow, mellow, and dreamlike in the way that reminds you of the sensation of moving in slow motion, which is something that you’ve only ever done in a dream.  And I wouldn’t want to leave out the darkwave twins, Black Tape for a Blue Girl and Falling You.  From the former, we get one of those Sam Rosenthal concoctions which starts out as one song—minimalist, but almost carnival-like (if somewhat creepy)—and then, halfway through, becomes an entirely different song: a folding and intertwining of sinuous background whispers, underpinned by a lonely synth melody.  From the latter, a more classic John Michael Zorko composition which is Jennifer McPeak’s only vocal track on the magnificent Touch,³ though this time Zorko eschews the trip-hop bassline and just does an extended, almost ambient synth noodling, while McPeak abandons words altogether and just provides an almost operatic, swooping vocal track.  At 7 minutes long, it was probably never going to land in any of the usual places I tend to slot Falling You,⁴ but it’s kind of perfect here.  And I wouldn’t want to skip This Mortal Coil, of course, who often provide dreamlike instrumentals thanks to Ivo Watts’ tendency towards synth minimalism.  “The Lacemaker” is a curious little tripartite track that starts out as just that, then becomes a lonely wind behind which you gradually start to pick out a voice on the breeze (speaking our volume title, as it happens), which is then superseded by some adjacent-to-creepy chamber music.  Songs like this (and the BTfaBG track) that sort of don’t know exactly what they want to be are often impossible to slot into typical mixes, but the advantage of having a mix based on feeling like you’re in a dream is that weird transitions actually fit the theme.

And we couldn’t forget Ensemble of the Dreamings, those weird snippets of music I found on the very early Internet that were supposed to go into a dreamlike videogame.  I’ll mine them all eventually; for this volume, here’s two more: “Processional” is about two minutes of vocals that you can’t quite make out with the standard synth backing, while “Angel Knife I” is (naturally) an angelic voice for which you can mostly make out the words, and a slightly more coherent melody, but it’s barely more than a minute before it melts into our other returning soundtrack, Mirrormask.  “Meeting the Sphinx and the Dark Queen” is an anticipatory track which climaxes but then keeps going into a very unsettling groove.  Iain Bellamy turns in another great track that wouldn’t really fit anywhere else.

The only new artist to achieve two tracks on this volume is Al Gromer Khan, a German-born sitarist who spent seven years learning the instrument in India, and only added the “Khan” to his name after being accepted into the Khan-I-Gharana tradition.  “The Anahat Syndrome” is something I first heard on a Hearts of Space program (specifically, “The Perfumed Garden”), and I was inspired to pick up the full album (1984’s now impossible-to-find Divan I Khas).  It’s a lovely, dreamy piece of sitar work that’s been on the Dreamtime playlist forever.  Adding “Oiram Qarz” was a much more recent inspiration; I felt that “I No Longer Remember the Feelings” just needed a better lead-in, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the fading strains of “Oiram” butted up pretty nicely against “Remember.” “Oiram” is a bit more slow and meandering than “Anahat,” and it works pretty well right after our opener, Angels of Venice’s “Persentio,” especially if you overlap the fade-out and the fade-in just a skosh.  “Persentio” is a fairly typical outing from AoV (who we’ve heard from many times thus far in these mixes⁵), meaning it’s some lovely harp work from Carol Tatum with cello and flute backing from her collaborators du jour, but I always felt this particular piece had a bit more of a feel of the nighttime breeze through the trees.  I think making it the opener of volume II was part of my more recent rejiggering, but honestly it feels so natural at this point that I can’t really remember for sure.

Ambient tracks can be dreamlike too, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to see Deborah Martin and J. Arif Verner back (we’ve seen them twice so far, both on Shadowfall Equinox⁶) with “Inter Astrum”—this sprawling, synthy track makes you feel like you’re traveling between the stars indeed.  And that bleeds nicely into “Anahat,” which in turn bleeds nicely into some Twin Peaks music.  Unlike most of the music from that show that I’ve used, though, this is a more guitar-driven track by Lynch himself, off the Fire Walk with Me soundtrack.  “The Pink Room” is a bit menacing, a bit minimalist, and thoroughly Lynchian.

Dreamtime II
[ Colourless and Dangerous ]

“Persentio” by Angels of Venice, off Forever After
“Oiram Qarz” by Al Gromer Khan, off Divan I Khas ⁷
“I No Longer Remember The Feelings” by Black Tape for a Blue Girl, off The First Pain To Linger
“Basketball Dream” by the Presidents of the United States of America, off II
“Processional” by Ensemble of the Dreamings, off Chthon [Videogame Soundtrack]
“... a cry for the broken-hearted” by Falling You, off Touch
“Inter Astrum” by Deborah Martin & J. Arif Verner, off Anno Domini
“The Anahat Syndrome” by Al Gromer Khan, off Divan I Khas ⁸
“The Pink Room” by David Lynch, off Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me [Soundtrack]
“Party of the First Part” by Bauhaus, off Swing the Heartache [Compilation]
“Dreamscape” by Nox Arcana, off Legion of Shadows
“Mesonoxian Visitors” by Midnight Syndicate, off Carnival Arcane
“Circus Waltz” by Sweetback, off Stage 2
“Angel Knife I” by Ensemble of the Dreamings, off Chthon [Videogame Soundtrack]
“Meeting the Sphinx and the Dark Queen” by Iain Ballamy, off Mirrormask [Soundtrack]
“The Lacemaker” by This Mortal Coil, off Blood
“Words of Tranquility” by Koop, off Sons of Koop
“The Far Shore” by A Produce, off Land of a Thousand Trances

Total:  18 tracks,  78:53

One of the tracks which has been on this playlist for the longest is Bauhaus’ trippy little song called “Party of the First Part,” which lets the non-Peter-Murphy contingency of the band⁹ do some classic goth noodling in the background of clips of (of all things) The Devil and Daniel Mouse.  This oddity is, so far as I know, only available on the CD reissue of The Sky’s Gone Out, but it’s well worth tracking down in my opinion.  And it was a great excuse to get the goth legends onto this mix.  (Plus, if I’m honest, I’ve always loved this song—possibly due to remembering watching the cartoon that provides the samples in my youth—and where the hell else was I going to put it?)

But what to put after it?  For a long time, it just fed directly into “Angel Knife I,” which was ... okay, I guess.  But I really felt like it needed more there, so I came up (again, fairly recently) with the weird little trilogy that now follows it: “Dreamscape” by Nox Arcana, “Mesonoxian Visitors” by Midnight Syndicate, and “Circus Waltz” by Sweetback.  Now, the first is a creepy synth vibe, perhaps inspired by some of the soundtracks to the John Carpenter classics of the 80s (particularly Halloween, but also The Fog and Prince of Darkness), but then the second (from Midnight Syndicate’s album Carnival Arcane) really starts to lead into the creepy carnival vibe.  Which is what you’d expect from these two purveyors of what I like to call “gaming music” (meaning it’s often used as mood music for TTRPGs), but then the Sweetback track is a bit of a surprise.  Sweetback is the backing band for Sade,¹⁰ and normally I would describe them as “smooth jazz” and just leave it at that.  And, “Circus Waltz” has a bit of smooth jazz in its DNA to be sure ... but there’s also something more here, an auditory glimpse into a carnival that’s just a little off, and I thought it worked perfectly after “Mesonoxian Visitors,” which sounds like the arrival of said creepy carnival on a Depression-era circus train.

Which only leaves us with two more tracks in the “unexpected” category.  I’ve put a lot of Koop on these mixes—on Salsatic Vibrato,¹¹ on Moonside by Riverlight,¹² and of course on Zephyrous Aquamarine—but “Words of Tranquility” is something different from their normal electrojazz.  It’s the first track I’ve used off their debut album Sons of Koop, which is way more electro than jazz, and it’s ... dark.  I don’t know how else to describe it.  The vocals are credited to “K (23),” which is certainly a bit mysterious; whoever she is, she provides the vocals for four of the ten tracks on that album, which is more than any other singer, and more than there are instrumentals as well.  The words are intelligible, which doesn’t mean they make sense: they include lines like “my desires are made of cold” and “I’m a pilot, I’m above, you’re a chauffeur, down below.” It’s definitely very dreamlike, and definitely couldn’t fit anywhere but here.

Finally, perhaps my favorite track here is the very strange “Basketball Dream,” by the Presidents of the United States of America, the closer of their very simply titled II.  This is some basic guitar noodling backing a spoken word description of a dream involving Magic Johnson, as recited by a young boy.  It’s very weird, in that way that makes you believe it was an actual dream, and you can hear one of the band members feeding the lines to the kid, and sometimes the kid just giggles in delight at the preposterousness of it all.  Just a delightful track that epitomizes the dream state.

Next time, more meditative, autumnal fare for getting work done.

⇐ Dreamtime I

Dreamtime III ⇒

__________

1 In this blog series, anyway.  In my tracklists/ directory, they still live in a subdirectory called moods/.

2 It’s just a second shy of 20 minutes long, if you must know.

3 Jennifer provided all the vocals on Falling You’s debut album Mercy, but became a more infrequent collaboration on later albums.

4 The “usual” places in this case being Smokelit Flashback, where we’ve seen them so far on volumes II – V, and Shadowfall Equinox, where they’ve appeared on I, II, V, and VII.  But Falling You is nothing if not versatile, and I’ve also used them on Tumbledown Flatland I, the previous volume of this mix, and slotted them for several other mixes that we will, presumably, come to in the fullness of time.

5 On every volume of Numeric Driftwood so far, on Shadowfall Equinox VI and Darktime I, and, somewhat atypically, on Fulminant Cadenza I and Penumbral Phosphorescence I.

6 Specifically on volumes VI and VII.

7 This album seems to be impossible to locate these days.  The link is to a YouTube video which contains the full album, which is annoying to parse individual songs out of, but it is what it is.

8 Same album as the previous Gromer Khan track.

9 Occasionally known, eventually, as Love and Rockets.

10 In fact, they were recommended to me by a coworker who was a Sade fan and was surprised to hear me play one of her tracks in one of my mixes one late night in the office.

11 Volumes III and V.

12 Twice on volume I and once on volume II.

Puzzle Plotting

This week I’ve been working on a D&D one-shot (that is, an adventure that should ideally only take a single session to complete) for my youngest child’s birthday.  Which has, technically, come and gone, but we’re running a bit behind on such things, not to mention that I didn’t even realize that I was supposed to be doing it for a while there.  But now I know, and I’m trying to put together something that she’ll like.  Which is a tiny bit tricky, because she’s a bit different from my other children: she likes roleplaying more than combat, and she’d rather solve a puzzle or talk to an NPC than go slay a dragon.  So it takes a bit more finesse to make her happy.

In fact, designing puzzles for D&D is notoriously difficult, for two reasons.  The first is that it’s easy to make the puzzle too easy, and your players just blast through it.  It’s also, weirdly, easy to make it too hard, and then it takes forever.  So it can be basically impossible to predict how long it’ll take, which means you can’t necessarily guarantee that your one-shot will get done in one shot.

The second potential problem is that it’s easy to put your players in a situation where they just get stuck.  If they miss a clue, or they just have a mental block and can’t figure out a clue, all of a sudden your game grinds to a halt and there’s not much to do other than just tell the players what to do, which sort of defeats the point.  So it can be tricky to design something that is challenging without being impossible.

I’ve attacked this problem in a few different ways.  (And I’m going to keep it a bit vague just in case my kids actually do read this blog, which I find particularly unlikely, but better safe than sorry.)  First, I’ve designed a set of interlocking puzzles that can be done in any order, and it’s highly randomized.  So, at the first sign of getting stuck, I’m calling for some dice to be rolled, and everything will change.  Secondly, I’ve built in a bunch of “back doors” (basically, hinting structures) that will get revealed over time, so that the game will get easier as it goes on.  If it needs to.  And, if I’ve made it too easy, it won’t.  But then I can also use the randomization to change everything if the players start getting too close too fast.

Now, overall, this is a bit tricky to do in a natural fashion.  But, happily, D&D is a fantasy setting where anything goes, so I can make it work fairly easily—worse come to worst, I can always wave my hands a claim “a wizard did it.” But I’ve also come up with a theme that should make it make sense, even when it doesn’t make sense.  I can’t be more specific than that just yet; maybe I’ll post again once I’ve revealed things to my players.

I’m actually a bit excited for this.  It’s taking me a fair bit of work—inevitably, it takes more time to design a puzzle game than it does to play one—but I think it’s going to work out pretty well, and I’m pretty sure my kids won’t have too much trouble figuring it all out.  We’ll see how it goes.