The afternoon I met Andy Crisp he was stoically bearing up under the burden of a sun-crushing hangover. As a Londoner, he was making the valiant effort, certainly not whining about it. I respect that, to this day.

One day, I apparently mentioned David Bowie and Iggy Pop in the same sentence, which caught Andy's attention.

In any case, we suddenly discovered a shared passion for music, and also that we were both musicians of sorts. Now, the phrase "a shared passion" is a rather weak and pallid term compared to the reality.

I mean, it's simple: when you are a musician, you are pretty much interested in only two things: women and music, and sometimes you can't tell the two apart. So we spoke the same language.

Of course, there are smart musicians, and they care about money also. But there were none of them in evidence, to guide us into the realm of reason, when Andy and I first crossed paths.

We agreed to exchange cds. I had some demos. He had some of his band, 12 Rounds, whom I did not know. I took his home and while I liked the music okay, I was extremely impressed with his drumming ... he has a touch that is extremely rare, quite powerful, but there was air, and man did he hit that sweet spot. He had quite a good run as a studio musician in London, New York, and Los Angeles before landing in Oakland with his lovely wife.

He worked with Barry Adamson for Hugo Boss Perfume ... Barry was the original bass-player for the Stooges and the Bad Seeds. Andy has also worked with Flood, and a number of other top producers. 

He, on the other hand, had a disk of my middle-period electronica, including the extended Sex Party, and had been expecting a cd of Don Henley covers, since he usually saw me in my "work" clothes, sort of business casual in those days. He told me later that he was certain I had given him one of my sons' works - he knew my boys were making music - rather than my own.

Clearly a case of judging a book by its cover. It must have been the long camel-hair coat and Hermes scarf I often wore that threw him off.

The day came when he needed help with a song and we discovered we could work together. Shortly thereafter, he helped turn the instrumental 3 seconds before maia smiled into vocal song. The foundations of our partnership were forming.

By this time we had become friends, of course.

A few months ago, say last June, 2007, Last Unforetold Man came to a stand-still. I had run out of ideas, steam, inspiration, everything. The songs were good, very good, I believed. But I had done everything myself - writing arranging singing programming playing instruments. I felt the songs were flat. I had recorded all new vocals in the studio, but I knew the cd was lacking something and I hadn't a clue what it was.

I called Andy several times and left messages. I told him I needed help. He got back to me after a few days - he is a busy man. I told him what was up. He said, "Send me the cd."

I sent him a copy of the cd as it was. And he started working. In the end, he came up with additional drum parts for five of the songs, a bassline for Pop Down The Years, backing vocal parts for a few of the songs, and ideas for most of the others: what to add, what to take out ... it was amazing. He transformed Last Unforetold Man. The cd took on a life of its own.