There have always been voices in my head. It’s not enough that I tend to blabber in my everyday life; there’s likely to be a stream of internal chatter going on in my head even while I’m talking to another human being. Jeez, it’s like Rupert Pupkin‘s basement up in here.
Among the topics that occupy my mind are the one question I would ask my favorite artists, should I ever have the opportunity to meet them. For instance, there’s a montage of gangland killings in Martin Scorcese‘s Goodfellas that I’d ask him about: Was the scene consciously styled after a key montage of vengeance and bloodletting in Kurusawa‘s Ran? Even if I was grabbing at straws, I bet Marty wouldn’t miss the opportunity to unleash some pent-up, internal dialog of his own concerning Ran. Then we’d spin cool records and trade tales of guilt-ridden, self-glorified debauchery and crippling asthmatic attacks.
Do you have a nagging question you’d like to ask a favorite musician?
