Fade in on a hotel room inside of the Great Northern. The sassy pulse of the Snare Drum Shuffle, the third in Angelo Badalamenti's non-continuing series of three all-purpose musical compositions, rages on. Not, mind you, that I begrudge the man even slightly his ability to help set the tone for the entire series through such consistent scoring, though I have to admit straightaway that I downright covet the business savvy that turned these notes -- the few, the proud, the recurrent -- into their own lucrative corner of the show's short-lived marketing blitz. A brief back story, if I may. Back in headier days, I maintained a proud and egalitarian co-ownership of the Twin Peaks soundtrack, a collection of Badalamenti's "contained in and inspired by" compositions that miraculously totaled something close to double digits' worth of tracks, doubtlessly including such filler additions as "Angelo Listens to the Car Radio" and "Angelo Teaching His Son to Read." When my brother, with whom I maintained this joint CD ownership, fled for the manifold freedoms of his collegiate experience a full year before I did, we were forced to split the entirety of our collection in a lamentable execution we, to this day, unironically refer to as The Divorce. Mind you, deciding upon the beneficiary of music procured almost solely as a result of my mother's hard-fought money was not the easiest of tasks, so it became necessary to rely on numerous other intangible methods of concession. And though I annexed for my parting gifts the canonized two-CD oeuvre of Scandinavian ABBA-fallout band Roxette and the to-this-day-fresh-in-its-hermetically-sealed-plastic pop stylings of a Split Enz spin-off band (a chapter of musical history unto itself) called Schnell Fenster, I was unable to convince my brother that the Twin Peaks soundtrack should be mine all mine. And so it goes in the year 2000.
Good thing there's a point in here somewhere. Oh, yes, there it is, buried underneath all that pesky self-indulgent free family therapy you all watched me get paid to drag you through. On said exalted CD, Snare Drum Shuffle took on at least three separate incarnations in tracks for which I now must make up the titles, from "Audrey's Theme" to "Cherry Stem Blues" to "Horne-u-copia," each of which distinguished itself from another by its incorporation of a lute or the sound of a human snapping, remaining otherwise identical. There must have been something special about this CD, though, because I really wanted it then and I still want it now. Meanwhile, Adam, rest assured in the fact that the World Party CD I stole from you as the U-Haul was pulling away will be returned any day now. 'Cause they're the next Beatles, you know. And you can also have the "Aspects of Love" London cast recording back, whenever you want to come pick it up. It's not that I don't respect what Lloyd Webber has done for the mainstreaming of the musical theater genre and all, but, you know, showtunes are for sissies. And with "Cats" closing, well, things have just been really hard for me lately.
Dear Djb, Please check your contract and cut/copy/paste the section in which my lawyers finely detailed the part about you spending the whole freakin' recap talking about yourself and your fascinating family history. E-mail that whole part to me so I can look it over, okay? Oh, you say that section doesn't exist? Well. Exactly. Best regards, Sars. ["I didn't write that. But I will add that this Dr. Freud who keeps garnishing your paychecks is a real pest." -- Sars]