Robert Krulwich

are these vertical stacks of rhythms, like almost multiple time flows existing simultaneously in the same moment.

And if you listen into this music that we're hearing right now, and you try and pick out, okay, what's the bass doing?

What's the drums doing?

What's the piano doing?

You will hear that they're actually almost not fitting together.

Like they're playing different beats, pulling at each other in some sense.

If I listen in and try and pick out all the lines...

I get lost in the intricacies of their rhythms.

If I listen out, I can just nod my head to it for 45 minutes.

But if I listen in, I'm like, Jesus, God, what is that bass player doing?

I have no idea what beat he's on.

And that's just interesting to me, the way that the patterns on the interior just kind of mess with your ear because they all seem to be on their own cycle, falling in and out of phase.

But then when you pull out and just listen to the whole thing together, you're like, oh, yeah, I can nod my head to this.

I can nod to this.

Yeah, I like that phrase, feelings from the patterns.

That makes sense to me.

And these patterns, to me, they feel kind of ancient and new at the same time, super mechanical and yet deeply human at the same time.

It never quite resolves for me somehow.

Testing, testing.

She's one of my favorite, favorite musicians.