the first time I heard Glenn Branca was on a cassette tape in 1982. I appreciated it, but it did not move me.

In 1992, I was driving home at 3am listening to WCBN and heard music that literally sounded three-dimensional. It turned out to be Branca's First Movement of Symphony No. 6. I went out and purchased the CD the following afternoon. It didn't sound the same as it did earlier that morning at 3am. The benefit of my first listen was that I turned the radio on when the movement was a few minutes in where the shit is hitting the fan. Like a La Monte Young experience. I later decided it was the Fourth Movement that actually floored me.

I didn't bump into Branca's reality again until shortly after moving to Brooklyn, NYC in 2003. A friend of mine forwarded a mass email request to participate in the recording of Symphony #13 "Hallucination City" at Kaufman Astoria Studios. I rehearsed the chart at home, diligently. It was both easy and difficult, but I was confident in my preparation. However, after the 100 guitar orchestra tuned up and Branca counted us in "One!! Two!! Three!! Four!!", the power of the ensemble was so mind-boggling I could hardly think. The room seemed to change shape. And it was not just the decibels. It was the music. I swear I heard God. It was a religious experience.

Now, I was not using ear plugs. I hadn't used ear plugs since Sproton Layer at age 16. And because I didn't use ear plugs while recording Symphony #13, I now have tinitus. Thankfully, the condition is mild. I also believe that if I had used ear plugs, I would not have heard God. So be it.

In 2006, I had the opportunity to record Symphony #13 once again as well as a performance, both at Montclair State University in New Jersey. I looked at my chart for the first time three days before the sessions thinking that it was roughly the same chart I had played in 2004. Not. Completely different score and far more complex. I almost threw in the towel.

Again with 100 guitars and the massive sound of Wharton Tier's drumming, the sheer density of the sound overwhelmed me. If I thought of anything other than the notes I had to play (constantly watching John Myers conducting out of my peripheral vision), I lost it. John Myers is amazing. The first section was 20 minutes long. At an excruciating volume and with no so-called melody to go on (just sheets of sound and peculiar rhythmic juxtaposition), I don't know how he held his place! Actually, after awhile the musicians began to understand and hear different elements of the score; the varying degrees of so-called cacophony, and know where we were and understand the flow -- otherworldly. 

Of the performance, my wife said she heard voices and bashing pianos (maybe from the 20 bass guitarists). We had a standing ovation.