maybe you wonder if we have given up. but you are quite mistaken if you do. i'm nowhere near done telling my stories. i suspect i won't finish telling them until i am finally finished for good.

to recap the events in prosolar mechanics' recent history in as few words as possible, we said fuck it. we didn't want another drummer, per se. we need beats and we want beats and when we finally get back out to the field we will have another drummer. but we're not ever going to put ourselves in the position of being dependent on anyone else. we're going to remodel ourselves for pure self-sufficiency. we don't want to bust our asses to churn out tired, rehashed bullshit. when we take a hit we stop what we were doing and we ask ourselves what it means. we ask ourselves every day if we are living the lives we want to live. are we doing the work we are meant to do?

hell yes.

it seems no matter how many times i question myself, my reasons for doing what i do and my ability to keep going i find that there's simply no other choice. it's not like it's easy. it's just that if nothing else, time has taught me to know myself. and i know that this disease of music is something that i will have until it eventually kills me. it's also probably what keeps me alive.

get to know pieter k. he has entered into a serious affiliation agreement with the likes of mechanics. he thinks like a mechanic. he laughs and eats and drinks like a mechanic. but he's simply pieter k — his own alien taking up residence where he needs, when he needs. he came to see me in january and spent a few weeks in our lab. we made music. a bunch of it. we wrote words, we recorded beats and vocals and samples and guitars. it's music by us for him — his album will be coming out on break beat science in nyc sometime this millennium, so i am told.

and with it our hopes for full resuscitation of the pmx machine. do not despair because the resurrection is indeed on.