From: friedman@cis.ohio-state.edu (Mark "Crimson" Friedman)
Subject: Dueces and one-eyed Jacks [cont'd]
Originator: friedman@seahorse.cis.ohio-state.edu
Organization: NAIVE - New And Improved Virtual Environment
Date: Sat, 22 Aug 1992 19:37:04 GMT

        "Floyd, can you send out continuous  controller  info  to
effects units?"

        "Certainly: it's just MIDI data, after all."

        "Bitchin'!"  Freddy grinned an dug through  his  gig  bag
for  a  spacial  effect processor.  He patched it up to the synth
rig, "Okay, here's what we're  gonna  do,  eh?   Play  this  drum
part..."   He  thought  up  the line, a jerky electronic beat em-
phasizing the 3 and 4, and Floyd took in the MIDI data and start-
ed playing the beat.  "Okay now," Freddy punched in a long regen,
all depth flange patch, "Every other measure,  change  the  delay
time  like  this,"  he  tweaked a knob on the unit so the general
ring of the flange went up or down a minor third.

        "Ahhh!" the AI replied, "tuned flanging!  I see: the wave
interference of the original and delayed waves create a new pseu-
do standing wave which has consistent, pitched overtones that can
be  altered  predictably in real time.  Thusly, an inherently un-
tuned instrument may acquire new tonal possibilities..."

        "Yeah, and it sounds kool to boot!"  He turned to  Danny,
"Okay,  clean sound, chorus, high cast EQ, 300 millisecond delay.
Slide into the notes like this..."  He played  the  part  on  his
bass  and  Danny followed suit on a guitar.  "That's it, eh?  And
delayed distortion on the B  parts."   The  AI  copped  the  lick
again.  "Kool!  Let's do it, eh?"

        He turned to the mike, "Say hey, folks, just teaching the
kids  here  some  new riffs.  Here's some more nonsensical lyrics
for ya..." He cued Floyd for a four  measure  intro  highlighting
the trick flanging and then he and Danny came in together.

        "If I had three days
         With which to bury you
         I'd take the first with donuts
         Not unlike the "moo"

         Firey lemons
         Ate key-lime pie
         Figuring out
         With the blink of the eye

         The railway of Belgium
         Skids out of the rain
         What a wondrous village
         Near the blockade

         Screaming, screaming
         Under the bay (or may)
         To say, lest we forget
         Finding three say...

         With my three days..."

        The bass part was a twangy slippy-slidey slap attack that
lazily meandered around a mixalydian mode.  Freddy basically laid
back and grooved with it and cued Danny for a solo.  The AI glad-
ly  took  up  a  silly little fuzztone-wah patch and picked out a
truly humorous rendition of "The Fishing Hole", as  was  used  on
"The Andy Grifith" show in ancient times.

        Freddy laughed out loud at how much the AIs were able  to
pick  up  in  the span of a couple of hours.  True, they probably
wouldn't invent tricks like "musical quoting" on their  own,  but
they  were eager to incorporate anything that he taught them.  He
chuckled to think he'd have them "trading fours" by  the  end  of
the night!

        They were musical sponges, and  Super-Absorbent  ones  at
that!

        He spun into a fingerstyle 5/8 part, using tritone inter-
vals  and  semitone  offsets  for  a little cognative dissonance.
Danny noticed his alteration and, not to be  outdone  by  a  mere
"human", began to play a slow 7 cycle himself, whilst Floyd still
chugged away in four, solid as ever and keeping the dancers  hap-
py.

        Suddenly, Danny and Floyd's playing  came  to  an  abrubt
halt.   While launching into a solo to cover the silence, he spun
around to face them, mouthing, "what's wrong?"  Floyd  pointed  a
drumstick back towards the dance floor.

        "Wha' th' FUCK do you think you're doing?"

        Freddy spun around again to face the voice.   A  squalid,
unkempt, and slightly smelly man had approached the stage and and
was now snarling ferally at him.  His impromptu solo halted via a
Duke Ellington ending, punctuated with an open-fret quartal chord
that continued to ring.

        He crouched down on the stage so that he was at  approxi-
mately  eye-level with the man.  "I was *trying* to entertain the
kiddies here and maybe get a job before I was so *rudely*  inter-
rupted..."  He turned around to the images of the AIs.  "Who does
this guy think he is, anyway?"

        Danny muttered, "Freddy, this is  Blackjack.   Blackjack,
this is Freddy Marx, aka Klone Crimson".  He nodded apologetical-
ly and shrugged.  Floyd bit his lower lip in apprehension.

        Freddy shook his head at the irony.  He faced the rumpled
fellow  and chuckled, "Blackjack, huh?  I shoulda worked that one
out when the stench of brandy drifted this way..."  He wafted his
hand in front of his face...

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Balckjack, Danny, and Floyd by Jim Gaynor, "Three Days" lyrics by
Mike Friedman (and music by me).

"Copyright by Mark Friedman 1992, all rights reserved," sez PR.

Drop me a line, eh?  I'll give you an "I put up with  his  story"
PostScript certificate upon request!  :-)

-- 
Mark "Klone Crimson" Friedman is friedman@cis.ohio-state.edu .................
"There is nothing former   "Beat poets,    "If you put a hungry ferret in your
 about King Crimson."       not children."  trousers, he'll run around..."
 - Robert Fripp, 5/11/90    - anonymous     - Nigel Tufnel (Spinal Tap)