A folk hero of the sixties generation in the UK after his initial two albums, the audience for his upcoming London gig was ready and hungry for a night of acoustic guitar protest anthems.
But he turned up with a rock band for a heavy gig, which was not what his fans had bought into. He was jeered off the stage. Change is inevitable, and it usually evolves in a natural way. Transform yourself too quickly, and you leave your fans behind. Myself, I was delighted to hear some old stuff at my one and only show by The Airborne Toxic Event, even though the original arrangements of most of their songs have been and will be changed several times over.
I am excited by the thought of not only new songs and albums, but also whatever different direction they may take to continuously improve their music. Any progression might even leave me behind for a little while, but any group worth following will and has to change, usually for the better.
The alternative is to grow stale, playing continuous gigs with similar setlists. The answer is to write new material and try out different arrangements during soundchecks and in their down time.
I just wanted to be joyful about it. For the first three records, I thought mostly like writer. My mindset changed. Under a tight deadline, he had no choice but to produce the track himself—a first for the Los Angeles outfit. This was the exact opposite. At the same time, it defied categorization at every turn. We all have that moment. All the while, it still boasts an unshakable refrain and intricate instrumentation. I was around everybody from Beatniks to gang members to kids who just emigrated from Guatemala or Ethiopia.
None of this had anything to do with the popular image of what California is—that idea of palm trees and movie stars. Simultaneously, the title track tempers a distinct guitar bounce with entrancing harmonies, making for a provocative and potent dichotomy. They can save you from a heart attack. The machines are all of these things at the same time.
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