My friend Tim died this weekend. He was a good man and better than most. Certainly better than I am. Tim was a fellow sound designer and, like me, made his living inside the music industry, designing for some of the same manufacturers and developers that I work for. Unlike a lot of folks in the industry, Tim was not possessed of an ounce of cynicism. He was a sweet, gentle fellow and I never heard a negative utterance pass his lips. Tim was a big, kind, charmingly goofy guy who was full of life and wonder and awe. He was just as excited about synthesizers and music in his middle age as I remember being when I first started playing. Tim knew, really knew that the tools we take for granted should not be taken so; that they are instead miraculous and marvelous in their ability to intrigue and inspire creativity. He appreciated each and every one of them and could wring wondrous sounds from the most meager equipment. Like me, he was old enough to remember when making sounds and music was not so easy, when playing and recording was reserved for a lofty elite who could afford the gear. He was ever thankful that he was given the opportunity to explore this art form. In an industry fraught with elitism, evangelism and snobbery, Tim stood alone as the guy who could find something to love and inspire in any instrument, application or platform. While other musicians argue for hours about Mac versus PCs, analog versus digital, Tim would be happily making beautiful music on any and all of the above. Heck, he'd upstage 'em all with little more than one of his beloved Ataris (a platform that Tim almost singlehandedly kept alive for computer musicians everywhere).

Yes, Tim was a good man and I shall miss him dearly. I will miss sharing our fondness for Klaus Shulze and Ozric Tentacles and Gong and Laurie Spiegal. I shall miss his excitement over discovering a world of sound in some forgotten, ignored and decidedly unhip synth. I'll miss the marathon phone conversations.

Most of all, I'll miss Tim's music. It saddens me deeply that I will never again experience the joy of hearing a new Tim Conrardy composition unfold upon first listening. Like the man himself, Tim's music was exciting, inspiring and utterly without reservation or ego. There was nothing anxious or mean or negative about it. Like the man himself, it thrilled to make the world a better, lovelier place. It was not cool and it was not fashionable. It was better than that. It was one man's attempt to make the rest of our lives a little nicer, if only for a few minutes at a time.

Goodbye my friend. I don't believe as you believed, but today I hope you were right.

Scot