This is flag pole music, created by intimate contact between the cold stainless steel and a contact microphone. A contact microphone (as can be deduced by its name) is stimulated by touch. It must be subjected to heavy, even pressure in order to pick up a clear signal; my head was the primary anchor. Sometimes I leaned against the pole, my head resting at the meridian, varying the tedium of America's thrashing by listening to the micro tones of a pudgy Egyptian diva, waiving her handkerchief that was heavier than the flag of any country. For lower tones, I went down on my hands and knees, obeying some order I couldn't name.
Wind Down (Except)