high_fidelity raze travis said jay fucked around too much. he said you were never really hearing yourself when he was running sound. i thought he was the only one who had any idea what he was doing behind a mixing board. once i thought maybe travis was right. i was playing a show with tara at the_loop. in the middle of one of her sleepier ballads, the chords my fingers were forming on a keyboard lost their shape. i was sure i was having a stroke until the lcd screen told me one of my elbows had changed the preset from piano to a dreamy synth pad. it wasn't anything jay did. it was my own body working against me. one night he invited us over to his place. he played some of my music on his insanely expensive stereo system. the speakers were as tall as me. the drums in the first song almost took my head off. i'd never heard anything sound so pure. and that was my own voice i was listening to. his dog licked my arm until he was sure he'd tasted every bit of skin there was. when i was pissing out some of the beer i'd been drinking, i imagined a future where jay liked me enough to leave me his hi-fi when he died. i don't think i'd want it now. anyone who shows up hours late when you need them and laughs in your face when you ask where they were isn't any kind of friend. 250114 what's it to you? who go blather from