Collecting bottles, tossing leftovers, taking out the garbage
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Richard Gess survives the crosswinds of life on his frail motorbike.
He was no one you’d pause to stare at; it was what he said that belied his craziness. Ask him any question; he would answer it as perversely as possible, every time. “Paul, what’s it like outside?” “It’s a perfect day for a rape.” “Paul, what’s for dinner?” “Children’s genitalia, in red clam sauce.”
My esthetic: the electric bass is the full equal of any other instrument. Properly played, it can simultaneously provide both a solid rhythmic punch and a complex countermelody.