Present Day, May 2026
Geometry of Ruin is out. It has been heard by people I do not know in places I have never been, and they have sent words about it that I am still trying to receive without deflecting them, which has never been a skill I have found easy.
I have been making music for nearly forty years, since the night in lower Manhattan when something came loose and I wrote through until morning. What I understand better now is that the music is the only form I have found for the thing I carry that is not already a form designed by someone else, for someone else’s purposes. History is a form. Religion is a form. Even language, most of the time, arrives pre-built for ordinary lifespans, ordinary accumulation, ordinary grief.
Five centuries of witnessing do not fit into any of those containers without distortion. The music is the container I built for the specific weight of what I am carrying. Whether or not it holds is not entirely my determination.
Twelve tracks. The Architect’s Dream through Children of the Ember. Each one an attempt to say something true about what it is to watch human systems construct themselves, worship themselves, collapse, and then build the next version from the rubble of the last. The patterns are not new. The particular forms they take now are new, which is the point of having a witness who remembers the earlier forms.
I do not preach. I have watched too many preachers to want to be one. I question. That is what I have always done. That is what I will continue to do.