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Yay new stuff!

My brother Casey and I (AKA Huh) have created our second album, after only 18 years. Dig it!

Callback has a bit of everything—the songs were all written by Casey, and I just put a little icing on the cake, so to speak. This wide array of styles reflects Casey's wealth of talent and broad interest in all things music.

Here it is.

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1995. An oddity indeed—I actually sang in one of these pieces (and spoke in a couple others). I'm not much of a singer, but somehow managed to do okay through a Casio Rapman, which lowered the pitch of my voice—and not by an amount remotely convenient (like an octave or a fifth).

Had my drums in a garage detached from the row house we were renting in Cavasso Nuovo, and is was during the workup for Totem Pole our neighbors started calling me il terremoto ('the earthquake'). All in jest, of course. I think...

Click here to open the album's details, including nifty CD inlay artwork, lyrics, and the meanings of them.

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1989. Bad Vibes was my first major production, and for the longest time my baby.  A friend lent me his 4-tracker, effects pedals, guitar, bass, and a couple mics; I took as much leave as I could afford, and three weeks later--voilà!  A two-track, 38 minute-long instrumental "album."

Those are my then-new Tamas and my Yahama VSS-30 voice sampling keyboard.

The bass lines make me cringe; recorded before Les Claypool inspired me to be a real bassist, I used a pick when I played all the bass parts. )))shudder(((

Click here to open the album.

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1994. In the summer of '93 my brother Daniel flew out to Albuquerque for a visit. Stayed for a couple weeks, and he and I spent a good deal of that time putting this together.

Dan wove a dark tale about a young man, spurned, and I did my best to mold a soundscape around it. The lyrics are considerably profound for a 16-year old.

The following year, at his high school graduation, I presented him and friends with the final 'release,' some copies of which apparently still exist.

It's a pretty tough listen these days; Daniel passed in May of 2014—37 years old—and left a gaping hole in many of our hearts. I love you Daniel.

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1998.  In September '98, my brother Casey (guitar), and I (bass) improvised several songs into my trusty Tascam-488.  After burning through two 90 minute tapes--22.5 minutes each on the Tascam--we switched instruments and nearly filled up a third.

We'd not yet recorded anything together, and for some reason we decided to call ourselves HuH.

We covered Pink Floyd's "One of These Days," and Crystal Ball was a song Casey had previously written on guitar.  Everything else we improvised.

Click here to check out the fictional trio we invented for this album.

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1991.  A warning: this is really low-quality audio.

But if you find trip hop even remotely interesting, and can bear the ~$250 budget quality, this one's for you.

Having returned to the States from Panama in early '91, but not yet having most of my equipment, I bought a Casio SK-5.  With the SK-5, my VSS-30, and—toward the end—a guitar sold me by a fellow dorm rat, I recorded some ideas into my boom box.

Always fond of this project, I'd never thought of it as more than a bank of ideas for future stuff.  However, as I've gotten into Amon Tobin, Four Tet, and the like, I've been thinking this stuff was prescient trip-hop.

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1998.  Had myTtascam Portastudio not broken down after creating HuH and Mohawk, 1998 would have been my best year.

It's an hour+ album of ideas I'd put together before returning from Italy, combined with some new stuff (in 1998), and fortunately I'd laid down the bass lines and guitar work before the 488 took a giant dump.

So I'm coming up on 20 years of sitting on this thing, and am determined to get off my fat ass and finalize it this year or next.

To hear the bass and guitar parts (and nothing else), click here.

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December 1989.  Facing a short-notice assignment to a place I didn't think I wanted to visit (Panama), I gathered what little gear I actually owned (i.e. not all the great wonderful stuff a friend had lent me for BV months earlier) and created this album, and spent Xmas and the New Years creating this monster.

BR General is, somehow, about Manual Noriega.  Title is short for "Banana Republic General" and homonymic for "be our general" (and I suppose that's him running, 'freezing' and 'chewing' toward the end).  REM Dread is simply a soundtrack for a scary dream, and Baleen Ballet was actually done in 1987 (predates the voice sampler).

Click here to open the album.

  7 a.m. Records


 Everything herein © Phil Thompson unless otherwise noted.  You may contact me by clicking one of these words.