Dizzy Heights #19, 6/8/2017: Definitely Doomed

Tweaked some things this week, starting with my insistence on being funny, because I’m just not that funny. So I’m letting the funny people be funny. This will make more sense about 29 seconds into the show.

Scotland rules the roost this week, represented by no less than five different artists (one of which came up with the title for this week’s show), and there is a cover of a sixth Scottish band by a UK band. There is also a block of early MTV songs, and I talk (too much, really) about interviews I’ve done, and interviews that I should have done when I had the chance.

I’m also thinking of designating the second-to-last song of each show as the Mellow Gold slot. This is not a joke. I am really excited about this.

Thank you, as always, for listening.

Spinning Discs: “Sky on Fire”

Where’s the fire? It’s at Well Go USA, which has “GIF”-ted us with a bit from its lastest action-packed Asian-packed flick, Sky on Fire. “Die Hard Whatever?” you may be thinking. Well, yes, but in typical Hong Kong fashion there’s a lot more going on besides. Ringo Lam (whose 1987 classic City on Fire inspired, or “inspired,” if you want to get up in Quentin Tarantino’s face about it, Reservoir Dogs five years later) directs a hard-hitting melodrama that pits a widowed security officer (Into the Badlands and Warcraft co-star Daniel Wu) at a medical research firm against criminals who have boosted cancer-curing stem cells. Or so it seems, as warring agendas are uncovered “first do no harm” goes right out the window. Lam, whose other credits include another scorching Chow Yun-Fat thriller, Full Contact (1992), and Jean-Claude Van Damme’s fine Maximum Risk (1996), has been off duty for stretches, and while this isn’t his best work it’s good to have him back in the driver’s seat when the film finally accelerates past some clumsy scene-setting.

Johnnie To, whose Drug War (2012) has become a cable staple of late, continues to crank out exciting, offbeat films. Three also has a medical setting, in this case, a hospital, where a bad guy (Wallace Chung) who’s deliberately shot himself waits for his cronies to bust him out. As the tension mounts, conflict simmers between the cop determined to bring the villain in (Louis Koo) and the surgeon equally obstinate about treating him. The slo-mo climax, a setpiece if there ever was one, resolves their fates in suitably spectacular fashion. “Master Director Johnnie To” (the shoe fits) and the main characters are feted in behind-the-scenes extras.

Chinese filmmakers use 3D more expressively, and excitingly, than anyone else, so it’s a shame that Sword Master is another disc missing a vital dimension in its domestic release. Director Derek Yee and producer Tsui Hark are dab hands at 3D, and I missed being beaten around the eyes. But: the disc does have a great DTS:X audio track to immerse the ears, and the image quality is up to the company’s usual high standards. The story (based on the 1977 hit Death Duel, which starred Yee) doesn’t quite hang together, as a motley group of characters crystallizes around a guilty swordsman who tired of the assassin’s life and is now a wandering vagrant. But story, and some oddball tonal shifts, are secondary to some over-the-top, CGI-laced fight sequences.

I didn’t know much about 2011’s “Mekong Massacre,” a notorious episode that erupted in Asia’s drug-producing “Golden Triangle” in 2011, and after watching the Chinese epic Operation Mekong I’m pretty sure I only got a partial view, favorable to China. Still, Dante Lam’s telling of the tale is relentless, as Chinese operatives take down, action scene by action scene, a dastardly Thai drug lord who dispatched thirteen Chinese fishermen caught up in a raid. Sordid scenes of degradation take a backseat to vengeance, with a carnage-wracked shopping mall shootout a highlight. The movie is way more Michael Bay than, say, Sam Fuller, but it has undeniable visceral appeal, and a good making-of details the whole bloody thing.

The most thoughtful film of the bunch is the Korean film Tunnel, a kind of echo to Billy Wilder’s acrid masterpiece Ace in the Hole (1951). Here a car salesman (Ha Jung-woo, of The Handmaiden) is stuck in a shoddily built tunnel that’s collapsed, as efforts to free him run afoul of bureaucratic bungling and media sensationalism. With only his daughter’s birthday cake to eat, our protagonist allies himself with a rescue worker, as his chance of survival dwindles. This is a familiar, evergreen story. But writer-director Seong-hun Kim (of the excellent A Hard Day) takes aim at local politics and hits his target, providing a fresh perspective, and Jung-woo is sympathetic in a much different part than the one he played in Park Chan-wook’s masterpiece.

Numberscruncher: My Fitbit Addiction

Oh, Fitbit, the love of my life.

I’m one of those people with a Fitbit addiction. I am obsessed with getting my 10,000 steps in. I love it, even if it lulled me into thinking I had 10,000 steps on Monday when I actually had 9,821. I was traveling that day and suspect that the synching was screwed up by changes in time zone. Nevertheless, my streak has reset.

My longest streak is 141 days, broken by a stomach thing that left me too weak to get out of bed one day. That’s probably the most weight loss I’ve had, too. I haven’t lost weight on the Fitbit, but my health is excellent (knock wood), and I’ll credit the nudge to exercise for that.

As for the 10,000-step standard, there’s not much scientific basis behind it, but it’s enough to represent some decent activity. Many new Fitbit users are surprised to find that a typical day of driving and desk-sitting leaves them at 2,000 or so steps, and that’s the point: to reach 10,000, you have to get in some activity. Some days, that will take intention.

In other words, the Fitbit is controversial, but so is just about everything concerning weight and health. I have no idea what the answer is – although I could find a peer-reviewed study that would agree with any position you want to take.

We’re a long way off from settled science, but what we do have is a ton of data uploaded by all of us Fitbit users. It’s fun to go through, too. I’m not sure Duluth, Minnesota is America’s Fittest City, but it’s interesting to compare the activity of those people actually using their Fitbits to such metrics as the incidence of diabetes and cardiovascular disease. What we don’t know is how Fitbit users compare to the general population. It’s a fun set of numbers, but it doesn’t tell us much without context.

And that’s the general problem of data analysis. The Fitbit is fun, and it may help researchers generate important insights about exercise and health, but for now, it’s a prop. It helps me, but it may not help you.






Brothers Prince upcoming self-titled debut E.P. is the creation of Oakland-raised identical twin brothers, Ambrose and Austin Prince. The songs were written and arranged in the East Bay and came together after a week-long recording session with Grammy-nominated producer James Krausse in Burbank, CA. With a couple of early morning surf sessions and a smattering of ping-pong breaks mixed in, the group recorded up to 10 hours a day to bring the project to life. Hand-clapped rhythms and group vocal parts that were created on the spot complement catchy melodies and playful, yet vulnerable lyrics on each of the E.P.’s three songs. The result is the organic soulful sound that their dedicated fan base has come to expect from Brothers Prince.

The EP is set to be released in August 2017 and the song “So Musical” will be featured in the film “Unleashed”, starring Kate Micucci and Sean Astin, coming out later this year.  So here now is the exclusive Popdose premiere of “Sun To Rise”.  This is a a truly perfect piece for the oncoming summer months.  Let yourself be lost in the groove.



Radio City With Jon Grayson & Rob Ross: Episode Fifteen

Radio City with Jon Grayson and Rob Ross:  The 15th!

Settle in for comfort while listening as Jon and Rob take you through all that’s going on in the world around us.  The boys begin with the latest political round-up; breakdowns of the new albums from Anton Barbeau, Kim Rancourt and The Pinkerton Raid; D.W. Dunphy’s interview with Levi Thomas on the eve of his debut album plus Mr. Dunphy’s remarkable piece of Atari and Chuck E. Cheese founder Nolan Bushnell, the favorite “In Our Heads” segment and so much more!

Radio City with Jon Grayson and Rob Ross:  Episode 15

The podcast will be on the site as well as for subscription via iTunes and other podcast aggregators. Subscribe and let people know about Radio City, as well as Popdose’s other great podcasts David Medsker’s Dizzy Heights and In:Sound with Michael Parr and Zack Stiegler.

CD Review: Julian Velard, ‘Fancy Words for Failure’

For every musician who has achieved stardom, there are thousands of anonymous ones grinding out a living by running from gig to gig. Julian Velard has given up his dreams of the former in favor of the latter on his fantastic new album, Fancy Words for Failure, which comes out June 16.

Working with longtime collaborator Grant Black on six songs, much of the material on the new record takes a cue from a track from its predecessor, “Jimmy Young,” where he saw a parallel between himself and a piano player his father used to see in Greenwich Village in the late ‘60s. The result is his most personal effort to date, and possibly his best.

The reason he’s made this switch in his life is simple: He got married shortly after the release of 2014’s If You Don’t Like It, You Can Leave, and he and his wife recently welcomed their first child into the world.

I’m ready to take a real chance / Explore the mysteries of derivative finance / Face the fate unknown / Make monthly payments on a 10-year adjustable loan,” he sings on the second-to-last song, “Goodbye Hollywood, Hello Adulthood,” which could also have served as the title for the album. In finding domestic bliss, he’s discovered the joys of being able to just be himself with his wife (the lead single, “Sweatpants on the Living Room Floor”) and can project a time when they’re looking back on their life together (“Glad I Wasted All My Time With You,” the latest in a long line of excellent Velard ballads).

But he’s also negotiating the landmines involved with a lifetime commitment, whether stopping off at an all-night bodega to make amends for something he did (“24-Hour Flower Boy”) or living with the fear that all this happiness could come crashing down at any moment (“Something’s Gotta Be Wrong”).

Still, professional jealousy can’t help but creep in. “Trust Is a Four-Letter Word” acknowledges some friends who have shot past him and he remembers a real-life evening from his days in London where he gave a struggling young musician a place to crash with “The Night Ed Sheeran Slept on My Couch.” And he opens up the record by dismissing the hottest show to hit Broadway in years, “Don’t Ask Me About Hamilton (Anymore),” where he doesn’t see what everybody else does in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s creation (he’s wrong, of course).

Ironically, this comes at a time where his profile has never been higher. He plays regularly at popular New York karaoke bar Sid Gold’s Request Room, has a monthly slot writing songs for Howard Stern’s wrap-up show (one of which went viral) and occasionally provides musical accompaniment on NPR’s Ask Me Another.

For the second album in a row, Velard closes with a cover, this time of “The Rainbow Connection.” His reading of the lyric, complete with a darker musical arrangement, suggests a degree of cynicism in the lyrics that Kermit the Frog never found, particularly in the second verse.

And yet, the album never comes across as self-pity because there’s a genuine sense that he’s realized this is where he’s supposed to be. It helps that his back-up band is so strong to give him the support that he needs. For the first time in his career, he’s given up the piano stool (except on “Glad I Wasted All My Time With You”) to keyboardist Frank LoCrasto, who also served as arranger and co-producer. Ryan Bull (guitars), Adam Chilenski (bass) and Bill Campbell (drums) provide versatility and textures.

Although Fancy Words for Failure won’t be released until June 16, those who pre-order physical copies at PledgeMusic between now and then will be able to immediately download it.

TV Review: “The Leftovers” Series Finale

When a TV series based on a novel gets liberated from its source material, it often means more interesting things happen.  That was the case of season two of “Man From The High Castle,” and it’s most certainly the case for seasons two and three of “The Leftovers.” Based on the acclaimed novel by Tom Perrotta, “The Leftovers” is about the sudden departure of 140-million people in the blink of an eye. In Christian mythology it’s “The Rapture,” and in “The Leftovers” there’s certainly more than a few mentions of the event through the lens of “The Rapture.  However, the show is really about the aftermath of the event, and the way in which people adapt (or don’t) to their new found reality. There’s more than a bit of nihilism, more than a dash of grief, and more than pinch of “What does it all mean?” throughout the series. Oh, and because the series is produced by Damon Lindelof (“LOST”), there’s a deep undercurrent of wanting to find answers to paranormal events that, like “LOST,” has kind of a mystical quality to it.

Season one of “The Leftovers” was too wedded to the novel that it had trouble finding its footing — though not for lack of trying. The story in the novel had a subtlety to it that really sidelined the action. But Lindelof and company (and by “company” Tom Perrotta is lumped into that group since he’s involved in the series as an executive producer) pulled old tricks out from their hats to gin up the action (unnecessarily at times) and create tension and conflict where there was very little in the novel.  

Season two was so much better.  As I wrote here on Popdose, the series shifted location and tone.  Lindelof’s fingerprints were more evident in the premiere episode, with heavy symbolism, locating the action in an earlier part of human evolution, and then lurching forward to the present to set the series in Jarden, Texas (also known as “Miracle” because no one from that town “departed”). Season two was much more compelling because Lindelof and Perrotta rightly ditched major themes that weighed down the first season and created plotlines that were more tailored for this particular genre of television:  a paranormal event changes society and the way people react in the aftermath.

Season three concluded on HBO on Sunday night and Damon Lindelof has redeemed himself from the ending of “LOST.”  I bring up that show in relation to “The Leftovers” because there are many similarities between the two stories. While none of the characters are marooned on a mysterious island where all sorts of strange things happen, in “The Leftovers” the world is the island, and those humans who didn’t “depart” are the ones still experiencing strange things — especially the lead character Kevin Garvey (Justin Theroux).  In this season, three years have passed since Kevin returned from an alternate reality that may or may not be a kind of purgatory.  He’s back to being a cop, is living with Nora (Carrie Coon), and his ex-wife Laurie (Amy Brenneman) is now with one of the main characters from season two, John Murphy (Kevin Carroll).  A lot relationship musical chairs have happened, but what’s clear is that Kevin and Nora represent those who are very much non-believers about the meaning of the sudden departure.  An odd thing for two people to cling to — especially when both have been so deeply affected by the event.  Kevin is being elevated to messiah status by Nora’s brother, Matt (Christopher Eccleston) through a book he’s writing (in a kind of old school biblical style) of Kevin’s experiences with dying, traveling to another realm, and returning to tell people about it. But all through the paranormal, religious, and cynical views expressed in the series, there was an undercurrent of science.  As in, there’s a scientific explanation for the sudden departure.  As it turns out, the explanation leads to answers that are more about the power of our ability to love one another. In a sense, Lindelof and Perrotta leave viewers with a very humanistic message of “What if this is all we’ve got?”  How do we live our lives?  Do we manufacture an apocalyptic end to our existence?  Do we find comfort in a higher power who is guiding all events?  Or do we find comfort and security in the deep bond of love we can forge with one another?  The series kinda sorta gives answers, but it also finds a way to wrap up the story on a satisfying note — something Lindelof was not able to do with “LOST.”  F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote “There are no second acts in American lives.”  However, Lindelof and company have shown that in Hollywood that’s not always the case.  And for those who have put off watching “The Leftovers,” you now have an opportunity to binge watch it (as all three seasons are available to stream on the HBO Go app).  Doing so might be a better experience than watching it on the old “appointment viewing” model because the journey that these characters go on seem like it would be more compelling if watched in a compressed way.  Whatever you choose, don’t pass up an opportunity to watch “The Leftovers.”  The darker side of humanity is explored without pulling punches, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

The SLVR Tongues Bring Country to the Masses With ‘S-Class’

All you need to know about the SLVR Tongues‘ approach to country music lies in the subject matter of their new track, “S-Class.” Where most contemporary country artists (and those of yore) romanticize gritty, down ‘n’ dirty pickup trucks, this guy-and-gal duo elevate their vehicle of choice: a Mercedes, to be precise.

It’s a small detail, but one that’s indicative of what listeners can expect from this accessible take on country. Sure, pop-fueled stompers with a Western twang are saturating radio airwaves as “new country” becomes the norm, but this is something entirely different. This is a brand of rock that tips its cowboy hat but never feels anything less than authentic.

“S-Class” unpacks the story of a lusty tryst — you can probably guess where based on its title. The back-and-forth banter between singers Hannah Huntley and James Lynch is complemented (and given a statement-making twang) by bandmate Peter Erik on banjo.

Though the song’s delivery does feel a bit messy at times, it lends itself to the chaos of its subject matter. Exes, backseats… when has this whole thing ever been easy? “Love in the moment, strangers tomorrow,” sing the SLVR Tongues. Fortunately, even after the blissful moments have faded into the rearview, songs like this forever immortalize them.


Noir-pop songstress Maiah Manser dissolves differences and builds bridges between the worlds of automation and nature. The grit and the raw in her lyrics, combined with her hauntingly powerful vocals all come together to create a chilling sensation that is concrete and abstract, both in sound and in concept.

Ms. Manser discovered her love of music at the age of four, while attending preschool in Bend, Oregon, where she was raised by her grandmother and single mother, who had escaped her father. With a fierce independence that stemmed from the energy she was surrounded by, Ms. Manser taught herself to play the piano and violin and eventually fled Oregon for Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle. As a student, she met Mary Lambert; that chance meeting opened the door for an opportunity to tour with Lambert as a backing vocalist and then opening for artists like Sam Smith, Ariana Grande and Pharrell Williams. At 20 years old, she started her professional career as a solo artist. Using analog synths, connecting soundscapes and live samples – from Native American chanting to the sound of a tree being cut down, Ms. Manser’s Second Skin E.P. aims to fuse the digital and the organic, illustrating the merge of the two types of worlds we live in today.

Popdose is pleased to not only introduce you to this very interesting artist but to premiere for you one of the tracks from her newly-released debut E.P., Second Skin, “Sweet Hell”.  Listen to this; it’s guaranteed you’ll find it both hypnotic and enchanting.

Second Skin is currently available


Finding Rachel’s Halo: A Christian Frederickson Profile

It is May 25, 2006. You are sitting in a capacity crowd at Kaufman Center’s intimate Merkin Concert Hall in New York City, listening to Rachel’s perform their last show as an ensemble – though nobody knows that just yet. WNYC 90.3 FM, an NPR affiliate, is broadcasting and Greg King’s scene-setting film is being projected on a giant screen stage-center, its Structuralist pseudo-narratives providing a foundation for the magic unfolding below it.

There is an eerie double awareness – the band both performing for an audience and being taped for a later radio broadcast – as Christian Frederickson, a founding member of the group, steps to center stage.

He says nothing, merely raising his bow. And then the weeping begins as he starts to saw away on his viola, the intimacy of the night captured in each sweet, lulling note.

“The thing that’s outstanding about Christian is that he’s so keyed into his tone and sound.”

That’s Ryan Rumery, the composer/musician who created The Painted Bird/Amidst, a production-accompanying CD carefully self-released earlier this year, with Frederickson and the late Jason Noble.

“I feel so many musicians now lose perspective on that. But, the beautiful simplicity that Max Richter has? Christian’s work has that, too,” Rumery told me recently, when we talked about the record. “It’s about the tone of it.”

Christian Frederickson started playing viola in the fourth grade while going to public school in Port Townsend, Wash. – 2014 population 9,255, some 55 miles northwest of Seattle, right near the Canadian border.

“I chose the viola and orchestra almost at random,” he remembered. “And I found I had an aptitude for it.”

The viola took him to The Peabody Institute of The Johns Hopkins University, the United States’ oldest conservatory, where, in 1989, riding a bus decked out like a streetcar, he met Jason Noble and everything changed.
Frederickson had interpreted masterworks and canonical performances extensively, even exhaustively, but soon, with Noble’s urging, he would craft his own.

“Jason later came to see a recital I played and we were hanging out after the recital and he mentioned he had this idea for a song that would sound good with strings on it,” Frederickson said.

The song became “Saccharine,” off Rachel’s 1995 debut, Handwriting. Their initial collaboration was recorded by Tony French at Hat Factory and later mixed by Noble and Jeff Mueller, who had played together in the avant-rap group King G and the J Crew. A year later, Frederickson came to Louisville – his first visit to the musically inclined Kentucky city – to continue working with Noble on what became their first demo, Rachel’s Halo.

“We started writing it out, kind of transcribing it and we just arranged it for string quartet,” said Frederickson, characteristically modest. “At that time, Jason had these ideas and I was helping him realize them for strings and providing support.”

Frederickson trained at Juilliard, went to Switzerland and spent six months in Europe, later meeting pianist Rachel Grimes – with whom he and Noble would form the nucleus of Rachel’s. By 1994, their recordings fell into the hands of Touch and Go Records label-head Corey Rusk, who knew Noble through post-rock giants Rodan, another Noble/Mueller collaboration of note.

“It started with the initial run of Handwriting, which sold out to distributors well before the release date,” Frederickson told me. “We didn’t expect it. We thought we were going to have a lot of gray paper in our basements for the rest of our lives. It was a welcomed surprise, for sure.”

Handwriting went on to sell 30,000 copies – big numbers for an indie band, in a pre-download era nonetheless — before Rachel’s even announced its sophomore release, according to Billboard magazine. In the years that followed, the band expanded its discography, toured extensively, and became nationally and internationally known for its intimate brand of avant-classical chamber music.

Systems/Layers, out in 2003, was their final full-length and their largest statement of purpose.

“In the thirteen years that have passed since that record came out, the little nook of a genre which Rachel’s helped birth—classical sounds with indie sensibilities, film-music moodiness and digital experimentation—has grown,” Benjamin Scheim wrote for Pitchfork when Rusk reissued Systems/Layers last year. “Promoted by labels like 130701 and Erased Tapes and typified by the commercially successful and recognized soundtrack work of Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter, and Ólafur Arnalds, as well as up-and-coming artists like Resina or Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch, post-classical is now a small but thriving world. And Systems/Layers’ status as a godfather record to the nascent genre is undeniable.”

Also undeniable is Frederickson’s importance to Rachel’s. While Noble lent them their indie-rock sensibility and unbridled experimentation, and Grimes offered a kind of compositional Romanticism, Frederickson was the emotional center, the sound of the viola always tugging at heartstrings and softly caressing your ears and brain tissue.

“There was something about the music of Rachel’s that created space, an environment for thought and emotion, inspiration and beauty that just spoke to EVERYONE in the room. It still does that even though Rachel’s is not together anymore. Their music is STILL doing the same thing: moving people deeply,” said Barney Hanlon of SITI Company, which created the dance/theatre piece Systems/Layers scores. “There is something about their music that is profoundly human. And I love that it’s unclassifiable. Is it classical? Contemporary? Rock? ‘Yes’ is the answer to all of those questions. And while the original band Rachel’s is not together officially, they are each still making amazing music and moving people to a degree that is astonishing.”

Frederickson never stopped moving people, though, due to his tendency to shy away from self-promotion, it’s difficult to track his CV.

He designed the sound and performed live for SITI’s productions of Antigone and Trojan Women, and he is currently designing the sound and writing the music for their newest production, Hanjo, which is a modern Noh play by the Japanese author Yukio Mishima. He designed the sound for Charles Mee’s Glory of the World, which had its New York City premiere at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. He composed and performed music for a May dance production of William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, and is writing new music and designing sound for a production of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America, which will be staged at Actors Theatre of Louisville in August and September.

Then, a trip to Bandcamp reveals more — records The Starving Season and Teratogeny, and the soundtrack to the film Death Metal Angola.

“I do work across a lot of different worlds,” Frederickson told me, “From a strictly classical music world growing up and in college, and also music, a completely different musical world with Rachel’s that was creative, where we were playing rock dives to concert halls, and then several years working more exclusively in theatre and dance.”

“I’ve been really fortunate to work with a lot of people who really inspire me and we are able to collaborate,” he added. “It helps provide me a palette of emotions to express myself.”

Then there’s The Painted Bird, a dance trilogy production loosely inspired by Jerzy Kosinski’s book of the same name. The piece has led to live productions and CD recordings, and marks the final collaboration between Frederickson and Noble, who died after a battle with cancer in 2012.

“When I started to think about the new trilogy production … I envision live music that would meet both poeticism and rawness/brutality of the source material,” said Pavel Zustiak, the choreographer/director behind The Painted Bird.

The production premiered as individual works – Bastard, Amidst and Strange Cargo – at Stanica, Slovakia and La MaMa in the US (2010), Baryshnikov Arts Center (2012), and Performance Space 122 at the Cathedral of St. John (2013), Pavel said. The work was presented as a five-hour cycle in its entirety at the Wexner Center for the Arts in 2013 and at La MaMa in NYC in 2014. The individual works toured nationally and internationally.

“In my work I treat all elements as equal in its ability to push the ‘narrative’ of the work forward,” Pavel said. “In Bastard, in particular, Christian’s music spread across a wide spectrum of a sonic landscape – from poeticism of his viola, heart-wrenching in several moments of the production, beyond the rawness of his electric guitar and towards discomfort and other-worldliness that needles and leaves in awe. Amidst brought my work to a new territory where nostalgia meets with a rock band sound and sensibility. Christian together with Jason Noble and Ryan Rumery brought rapturous pulse and presence to this work.”

The rapture is apparent early on.

After the sweet drones of “Slide Show” comes “Corridor,” which is metronomic but utterly passionate beyond its paces. There are touches of Noble’s Shipping News (“The Displaced Body”) and pieces that tremble with sincerity and weeping strings (“To Be One of Them”). In short, it’s an astonishing accomplishment one can only imagine set to a live performance.

It also is stunning as a window onto the decades-long collaboration between Frederickson and Noble, who rehearsed and performed the production up to his death. Three different bass players filled in for Noble afterward but Frederickson said one memory singes his brain: a performance in Columbus, Ohio shortly after Jason’s passing.

“I remember being on-stage at the Wexner and just playing along with those tracks that Jason had made and just sobbing on stage,” he told me.

Kristin Furnish, who met Noble in 1991 and married him in 2006, was similarly touched.

“I can’t put into words what life was like with Jason,” Kristin said. “He brightened every day.”

Frederickson also recently was hit hard with another loss when Rachel’s member Edward Grimes died of a heart attack March 25. He was 43.

“I can’t believe that two of my bandmates are gone so young, it’s sort of inconceivable,” Christian said recently. “I played a piece from Amidst at the memorial – “Mirage” – which is basically a duet with Edward. The cymbal wash is a recording Jason and I made of Edward years and years ago, which I loved and always found places to use in composition and my sound design work. My music is becoming full of ghosts – so much of who I am as a musician and composer is influenced by my time with Jason and Edward … but it’s just so unfair that those two truly special humans aren’t around to keep moving forward with me.”

Frederickson, as ever, though, is moving forward and forward-moving.

“I feel like I’m emerging from a pretty crazy/busy season and starting to think about new projects and possibilities, which is exciting,” he told me.

“New music, live shows, The Painted Bird part three. It’s all swirling around and starting to get organized.”