Track 1(Transcript)

Deidre: When a tree falls in a forest, and no one's around to hear it... IT MAKES A SOUND!

* sounds of toy instruments being played*

Music will be made today. Rosemary Hills will reverberate with song, because we have a history-changing discovery, unearthed from a dank crowded attic: the cassette tape from 1992 containing Wim Faros' first public concert, here in his hometown. And because I am Deidre Gardner, coming to you live, on It Makes A Sound. *chimes*

Now, we are experiencing some delay regarding the technical playing of the attic tape. There are some equipment issues, namely the... the lack of proper equipment, however not to worry. The show must go on! And it goes on. In fact, we at It Makes A Sound actually see this as a boom. A serendipitous opportunity to have a forum that paves the way for his music prepares us for the shock of his sonic brilliance. And thus; I begin today's pivotally important show with a major reveal that will likely surprise most listeners. I, Deirdre Gardner was at the concert. That's right. The host of the only show in the nation dedicated to the music and legend of Wim Faros happened to be in attendance at his inaugural concert in Rosemary Hills clubhouse. And as I can be your cassette tape player. I will be your cassette tape player for now. You are in capable hands, look look! The song list is written here on the inside cover, nine songs, that is our roadmap. I hold in my mind melodies, I remember lyrics, I can piece together the tracks- well, many of them as well as capture with nuance and truth, with truthful nuance the exhilarating feelings from that first concert. I am honored to be your guide to what so very soon will be released to the world in the attic tape. But, you see even before our ears will feast on the oral delicacies of the actual songs, we shall have covered the earliest themes in Wim Feros' musical experimentation, and that's very exciting. so let's dive in.

Today on this very special episode of it makes a sound, I'll begin by conjuring the very first song played at the concert. The title is I Am A Moment! Exemplifying so much of Wim's canon this song speaks to the the the (athemora?) of existence and... and the need to strive for radical presence in an environment of detachment. How to begin? How can I bring you with the all the sights and sounds and tastes of the concert? I'm remembering the first time I heard this song, the only time. What was the atmosphere of that concert? Well, my god listeners what was it like to step on (yazgurds?) farm at (Woodstock?) What must that Sunday at church had been like when that little child (emeheleia? jackson?) stood up to sing? The air was electric instruments littered the stage, a keyboard, a drumset, a harmonica, maracas, a triangle, and of course both an acoustic and an electric guitar, there was even a small portable harp in the corner, perhaps a zither... I don't know exactly what a zither looks like but there was probably one because there were so many many things. But first, there was silence. Sacred pregnant silence. Both pregnant and sacred. The instruments themselves seemed to be alive, almost like muppet instruments sitting up in rapt attention in that thick silence, and imaginary rope connected every person in the room to the diaphragm of Wim Faros. The rope was so taut that... that even taking an inhale threatened to snap you into a million pieces. And then, the first chord. And then, all the chords. The fluidity with which he changed sounds he... he was like (vishnu?) at (loosnan?) orchestra or like (angelic) cat seemingly singing entire chords all at once and immediately the song death gripped us with a cry of overgoing a tremendous obstacle, DAMN THE ODDS! I AM A MOMENT!

Voice: Deidre!

Deidre: And then, (Starts playing keyboard)

Voice: Deidre! (Deidre continues to play) Deidre!

Deidre: (Continues to play while muttering) The... fa...c... d...d...bum bum bum... g... bum bum... g.... ohhh... f... (Normal speaking voice) Now perhaps its true that the the average critic would not call me a musician but I did take beginner piano many years ago, and I have been preparing and I have assembled here a few instruments and things that sound like instruments and I have been working to figure out through a lengthy process of trial and error the notes in the style of Wim Faros. So, (while playing keyboard) he yelled he damned the odds, and then, he sang. (singing) Point an arrow at my chest, hold it taut, look in my eyes, forget the rest, all you despise I'm as highhhh as you are freee the delicacyyy of this beauty of the... (speaks) oh shoot. (stops playing) um... hold on um... (plays) u well I... I... you know this part, this part actually he spoke, uh... and, and it went: My eyes dilate to your enchantment, and see the origins of our soul. Our oneness is the goal. And though you could be killing me, (keyboard stops) you are not. Now, I have been working on filling in the lyrical gaps that I am not completely certain of through context clues and with the help of a rhyming dictionary, I consider myself like like a paleontologist using fossil replicas to fill in missing bones in the dinosaur skeleton so that the fullness of its majesty can be displayed despite a few missing tibias and femurs. I mean, when you're looking at a massive brontosaurus skeleton in a natural history museum, no one can tell the difference between an honest to god finger joint and a plastic one and I am certain that when at last we are able to play the attic tape audiences will wind the insertions I made remarkably accurate to the original. Perhaps even impossible to discern. In any case, concerning the aforementioned lyrics what we understand immediately in the first verse is that the singer has been weighing the repercussions of daring to connect to another and we encounter him directly in his f***ing decision, pardon my language but he is the moment and, and he will literally put his heart in another's hands, because he knows that the risk is worth it that, that to feel true vulnerability and intimacy will make the rest of the pain melt away Wim like Prometheus,

Voice: You are not getting any dinner Deidre!