Roger Nichols died the other day. He was the engineer behind the Steely Dan records, the ones that stood in the great chasm between George Martin?s Beatles productions and whatever is going on today. When I think of what could be of the great realtime stream we?re all building, I hope and trust it will somehow reach toward the quality of that perfection. It felt like a perpetual motion machine, a unique world inside a glass ball, shimmering in the precision of the world?s greatest drummers? time machine. Some felt it lacked emotion, settling for cool perhaps. You could say that, but as the years went by, the clock kept quietly ticking ? through the rage of the punks, the bloat of the eighties, the decades we stopped counting. Like a Kubrick film, exacting in its architecture, with tinges of humor and slashes of jump cuts.
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