Searching for that music that lifts the spirit and enriches the soul.
A fate named Lucy (A Fellow Programmer) brought me to WYCE with encouragement and mentored me in my early days. Now I find myself lost in the cavernous warehouse of the WYCE library. From the top of wobbly wooden ladders stretched beyond limit, at heights where I swear the air is thinner to the deepest darkest corners of the library where sunlight fears to go. I can barely see the dusty shelves, cobwebs still in the dead air; the only sound beyond my breathing is the scratching of tiny feet below me. The only artificial light is controlled by a timer that whispers "tick tock click off" when I am in the furthest aisle, reaching precariously from the last rung. Imagine the absence of all light, there my fingers crawl along the rows of music intuiting the genre, tempo, melody and playability through touch alone. This method has been so successful I now choose all of my music in the dark. Fingers creep like large five legged pickers, barely disturbing the fine layer of dust, sniffing, sensing, waiting for that lift, that sign from beyond consciousness. I've become so proficient that as I choose each cd the song is already known too. If you've ever listened to your music with your eyes closed, or the lights out you understand.
Freddy Helix and The Achatines: S Car Goes Goats Milk Cheese: Sweet Chavre' Grass Fed: Udder Discontent