the moment and the sound. And it also gave me an idea. Stay tuned and I’ll tell you what it is!
a.
I hadn’t had a listen yet, and I felt a pang of regret reading Ada’s “review.” Often Nik would review his own records for the Chronicles. He had several rock-journalist pseudonyms that he used when he wrote these reviews. Many, of course, were hyperbolic raves. Some were carefully considered and annotated essays that were in fact fascinating exegeses by the artist. And quite a few were scathing, harsh hatchet jobs or faint, lethal dismissals. Nik would sometimes send me copies of the reviews with the CD. I would make a point of not reading them untilafter I had a clear, unframed listen of my own. In this case, there was a “clipping” included, but it was an interview from Nik’s fantasy fanzine,
Butter Your Toast
:
BUTTER YOUR TOAST
Our Girl Anna Conda Tracks Down the Elusive Nik Worth
Western Lights, Topanga Canyon, California
Today, fans, is the day.
Volume 2
of
The Ontology of Worth
has hit the stores. Looks like we are getting very near the end! Don’t miss it, or the free promo poster, and don’t forget the limited-edition covers all work together to make three different unique images (back copies are still available for the previous eighteen volumes, but hurry—they are limited and are already commanding high prices on eBay). We have been informed that once these discs are gone, no more will be made!
Nik Worth, aka Nikki Trust, né Nikolas Kranis, pop wunderkind turned underground wizard, has agreed to talk to us about his latest release:
Butter Your Toast: What made you decide not to use music on some of these tracks?
Nik Worth: Why not? I like to experiment. Call it a Futurist sound experiment, a dada poemlet.
BYT: Yeah, okay, but when are we going to get some pop songs?
Nik Worth: The Pause Collective is not a pop label.
BYT: How do you expect your fans to listen to this?
Nik Worth: I expect complete and total attention for all of my work. I want my fans to drop whatever else is going on anddevote themselves. I want them to listen, with rapt and dire attention, to the prior eighteen volumes, in order, and then I want them on their knees, eyes closed, with the whole fifty-six minutes of the CD played at top volume. I want them to repeat that undistracted deep listening until they see the patterns, themes, and ideas that link and resonate through the entire nineteen volumes. I want them to understand any failings they may perceive in the work as part of its terrible beauty, and I want them to embrace the mystery and beauty of the project as a whole. Then I want them to hold those thoughts and feelings and wait breathlessly for the final chapter—
Volume 1.
Soon to come. That’s all I expect.
BYT: And when will you drop the final chapter,
Volume 1
?
Nik Worth: Sooner than you think. This year. I’m almost done.
BYT: And?
Nik Worth: It cannot, I repeat, cannot, be topped. This truly will be the last record.
I know. There was no mistaking the finality of his statements. But to be fair, I had heard things along these lines for years.
FEBRUARY 21
I do all my listening in my car. It is the only thing that makes my commute bearable. Each day I get up earlier to “beat” traffic. I had begun to leave my house while it was still dark. I watched the light gradually press behind the mountains; the glow of the headlights of the few other cars made me feel as if I were part of a secret, determined club of commuters. I inserted Nik’s CD and tapped up the volume button to a nearly uncomfortably loud level. I wanted to feel the music as well as hear it. In the anticipatory silent seconds before any sound could be heard, I felt a little lift of desire and possibility, something that felt marginally like wanting a cigarette or a morning coffee or, more aptly perhaps, starting the last chapter of a book you have been reading for a long time. I had a second to wonder, breathlessly, what world would come. This
a.
I hadn’t had a listen yet, and I felt a pang of regret reading Ada’s “review.” Often Nik would review his own records for the Chronicles. He had several rock-journalist pseudonyms that he used when he wrote these reviews. Many, of course, were hyperbolic raves. Some were carefully considered and annotated essays that were in fact fascinating exegeses by the artist. And quite a few were scathing, harsh hatchet jobs or faint, lethal dismissals. Nik would sometimes send me copies of the reviews with the CD. I would make a point of not reading them untilafter I had a clear, unframed listen of my own. In this case, there was a “clipping” included, but it was an interview from Nik’s fantasy fanzine,
Butter Your Toast
:
BUTTER YOUR TOAST
Our Girl Anna Conda Tracks Down the Elusive Nik Worth
Western Lights, Topanga Canyon, California
Today, fans, is the day.
Volume 2
of
The Ontology of Worth
has hit the stores. Looks like we are getting very near the end! Don’t miss it, or the free promo poster, and don’t forget the limited-edition covers all work together to make three different unique images (back copies are still available for the previous eighteen volumes, but hurry—they are limited and are already commanding high prices on eBay). We have been informed that once these discs are gone, no more will be made!
Nik Worth, aka Nikki Trust, né Nikolas Kranis, pop wunderkind turned underground wizard, has agreed to talk to us about his latest release:
Butter Your Toast: What made you decide not to use music on some of these tracks?
Nik Worth: Why not? I like to experiment. Call it a Futurist sound experiment, a dada poemlet.
BYT: Yeah, okay, but when are we going to get some pop songs?
Nik Worth: The Pause Collective is not a pop label.
BYT: How do you expect your fans to listen to this?
Nik Worth: I expect complete and total attention for all of my work. I want my fans to drop whatever else is going on anddevote themselves. I want them to listen, with rapt and dire attention, to the prior eighteen volumes, in order, and then I want them on their knees, eyes closed, with the whole fifty-six minutes of the CD played at top volume. I want them to repeat that undistracted deep listening until they see the patterns, themes, and ideas that link and resonate through the entire nineteen volumes. I want them to understand any failings they may perceive in the work as part of its terrible beauty, and I want them to embrace the mystery and beauty of the project as a whole. Then I want them to hold those thoughts and feelings and wait breathlessly for the final chapter—
Volume 1.
Soon to come. That’s all I expect.
BYT: And when will you drop the final chapter,
Volume 1
?
Nik Worth: Sooner than you think. This year. I’m almost done.
BYT: And?
Nik Worth: It cannot, I repeat, cannot, be topped. This truly will be the last record.
I know. There was no mistaking the finality of his statements. But to be fair, I had heard things along these lines for years.
FEBRUARY 21
I do all my listening in my car. It is the only thing that makes my commute bearable. Each day I get up earlier to “beat” traffic. I had begun to leave my house while it was still dark. I watched the light gradually press behind the mountains; the glow of the headlights of the few other cars made me feel as if I were part of a secret, determined club of commuters. I inserted Nik’s CD and tapped up the volume button to a nearly uncomfortably loud level. I wanted to feel the music as well as hear it. In the anticipatory silent seconds before any sound could be heard, I felt a little lift of desire and possibility, something that felt marginally like wanting a cigarette or a morning coffee or, more aptly perhaps, starting the last chapter of a book you have been reading for a long time. I had a second to wonder, breathlessly, what world would come. This
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