Woodside was a maze of candy-coloured houses and cut-rate mansions. Each home was identical to the one three doors to its left. The streets didn't run...straight, but wound in circles like the demented scribblings of a child on amphetamines. Anyone else would look at the verdant grass and the sun-dappled streets and conclude that it was a perfect place to raise a family. The whole place seemed like it was straight out of a real estate ad. But somehow Adam was uneasy.Maybe it was because of the. We sat down in a corner booth and talked about the songs, the informal arrangements he had in mind and the feelings he wanted to communicate to his audience. He wanted people to hear it, feel it, from the beginning, the darkness, the light, the energy of music, everything. When everything was set up, when the small crowd had gathered, when we sat side by side, singing, feeling, being, breathing the music, Mike forgot about all of his ambitions and just let his thoughts and emotions lead him. More

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