“I See You” By Jamie Horner :: Musique Mécanique par le Théâtre Électrique :: This theme was written by my good friend, Jamie Horner... We used to spend hours together in the record shop in our village asking the sales clerk to play new classical recordings that just came from the fresh pressings at Mercury Records near the motel in Hollywood where we lived. We had breakfast everyday at Denny’s Diner on the Sunset Strip. Jamie always dreamt of flying when he was a teenager. He was the only person on board when his plane went down over the desert a few years ago now... The wreckage of his plane was found, but nobody on board and still when I visit, some people in the desert say a flock of wild birds was seen in the sky that day... “But music can only ever exist in our memory,” Jamie would always say, and he showed me a diagram he had been working on as a boy and then later at UCLA. I thought I had lost the diagram but I found it today. Holding the drawing to the Blood Moon, I found the outline of Elfin Runes shining through the pulpy paper. The one sheet peeled apart and I held two pages of Red Moon Elfin Runes. Jamie had learned the language after the first Lord of the Rings played at the IMAX, so he was quite fluent. I had one other friend from Slimelight, the cybergoth nightclub in London, who could also read Elfin Runes. We were up all night in London at Easy Ed’s Diner on Old Compton Street, perusing the parchment. We had breakfast at Farmer Brown’s Cafe in Covent Garden. We didn’t talk much at the table as the Cafe was crowded and it was raining outside. We didn’t want to be overheard then...or now.... The diagram turned out to be more of a working paradigm than a theory and the 17 synth modules Jamie had helped me arrange in my studio had each been assigned a coordinate and a locator sequence designed to be read more like an Ancient Egyptian Holografix or Pictogram, which is roughly translated into English, as opposed to the more musical Elfin language, by imagining all Images in motion either backward into the past or forward toward the future in time...” Jamie used to say “But music can only ever exist in our memory,” and I would always say, “...what, in that moment...? Or was it that one?” And I would reach into the air grasping at the space in between the notes. Jamie would say, “The space that is silent in between the notes is a real place. It is not memory.” I didn’t think our circular discussion of space, time and music meant much more than banter to him until I found this diagram and reset the sequential order of circuits in the synthesiser modules according to these numbers in the equations from the Red Runes and the Ancient Egyptian Holografix sketches and then activated each synthesiser in correct sequential order. Suffice it to say, when the sun drifted in through the fog on Old Compton Street, I was still awake and all the electricity in Soho was down with the centrepoint of the blackout, I could only guess, more likely than not, my flat. By pale, orange candlelight, my pen found with a will of its own, more parchment paper from the bark of the same Paper Tree Jamie had saved to piece together two sheets, back to front, two into one. The Paper Tree, in Soho, being several hundred years old, had learned through its nature to shed it’s bark as sheets of high quality parchment paper to avoid being cut down by paper makers and crushed into pulp. “Jamie didn’t draw these diagrammatic Red Runes,” I tried to remember our various chats, whilst we were retiring that late stormy night, but instead I found myself wondering if I had been talking aloud instead of thinking to myself in a paranoid flash, I shuffled up all my notes and locked everything behind me, stepping lively with the Lamplighters come to shut the gas in every street lamp torch along the cobblestones on Dean Street. The machine had been powered up for 3 minutes exactly before the automatic shut down and reset. Under the flickering candlelight, I noted