On Not Taking Yourself Too Seriously

     I’ve long enjoyed the music of Glass Hammer. I find their “concept” albums particularly appealing. Indeed, I regard Lex Rex and Valkyrie as the finest works of their kind. But I know people who regard their music as “too serious.”

     I can understand the sentiment. There are people who find complex compositions laborious. There are people who simply want music to relax to. And there are people looking for what our British cousins would call music for “a bit of fun.”

     Well, Glass Hammer’s leading lights Steve Babb and Fred Schendel make that sort, too. Way back when they released a whimsical CD titled Chronometree about a fellow named Tom whose overindulgence in prog-rock was driving him insane. It was wonderful fun. And quite recently, they’ve followed it with a sequel of sorts: Chronomonaut, in which Tom is catapulted into a series of time-travel adventures, again because of prog-rock overindulgence. I received the CD yesterday and I already love it to death.

     However, while I was aware that Chronomonaut would be a “fun” recording, I did not expect the fringe benefit that accompanied it:

     Suddenly I sense a compulsion stealing over me. My hands move toward the CD player of their own accord. They reinsert Chronomonaut into the caddy and turn the volume to 11. They pluck the libretto from the jacket and force me to stare at it. It seems that I must— No! Not that! Lord have mercy! I...must...don...the...headphones...

     (tee hee)