There's a party in my mind, and I hope it never stops. – David Byrne, Talking Heads

Over the past twelve months I've been subjected to an incessant conversationalist. No, not my wife. Not my kids either. Me. From somewhere inside my consciousness. The only respite I find while not asleep is when I'm playing music, practicing meditation, or engaging in some other activity that demands (or produces) a state of concentration. And even then my constant companion can sometimes still find me.

Science and literature have a lot to say about this. While "inner talk" is viewed as a part of normal brain function there is a wide spectrum of what is considered "normal." For some of us it's most often experienced as a running monologue. For others it can be a dialogue, trialogue, or more. Some people experience a total absence of it. Our "inner voice" has been attributed to, and even credited with, the sociological evolution of our brains. It is a scanner. An assessor. A protector. A coach. A critic. A dark passenger. For some even a tormentor. As of late I've felt compelled to assail neurological studies and surveys, to reacquaint myself with Raskolnikov and The Grand Inquisitor, and even to revisit The Inner Game of Tennis.

Why?

Because I miss engaging in the social act of making music with no precautions. I miss the spontaneous, sometimes even careless, exchange of open ideas in the physical presence of others. I miss feeling other people's kinetic creative musical energy and reacting to it in the moment. I miss the surprised faces when something unexpected or divergent occurs and we must either transform the dissonance into collective poetry or lose the wave entirely.

And because I need to start relating in more musical terms to the band I've been rehearsing with all along. The one that shows up for every rehearsal. The one I've grown up with my entire life. This one... in here.

Polyphony is commonly defined as a musical texture consisting of two or more simultaneous lines of independent melody, as opposed to a musical texture with just one voice, monophony (e.g. Light Shines Through), or a texture with one dominant melodic voice accompanied by chords, homophony (e.g. looping, comping).

These independent melodies are equals. There's no alpha/beta relationship. To me polyphony represents the musical equivalent of a humane conversation between two parties who, in order to reach an agreement, are observed acting and reacting to one another in an open and cooperative manner. Of course an agreement isn't a foregone conclusion. Therein lies the drama and suspense. That's why we watch and listen. That's life. We know that in the end there must be either resolution, detente, or open conflict. And this is how I have approached the music on this album. I have never attempted a recording like this and the learning curve has been steep. The result has remained opaque to me throughout. But it is here for you regardless.

I am extremely lucky to love, live with, and work with filmmaker Erin Harper, without whom the video content for this album would have been inconceivable. Our shared hope is that you will be able to experience these musical dialogues with both your eyes and your ears, and that the art forms themselves can become yet another type of polyphony. I have been continually inspired by the photography of Dennis Connors and meditating on his images has been a great source of focus and inspiration for me in making these albums. Graphic designer Matt Lowe has been invaluable in helping me to express the visual vibes that accompany my music. And when you finally hear this album you will no doubt be experiencing the other member of the band, recording engineer Nic Hard, a trusted creative partner and legendary sonic provocateur. 

ZB