I sometimes wish I had never heard of Bionaut. Pity, if I had never created it, I never would have had to hear of it. Nonetheless, in all things electronic music I blame Paul Eggleston, or at the very least Klaus, Del and Dikmik. Yet it was Paul who enabled my own descent into the maelstrom, so let it be him.
Painting with electronic sound is a most treasured experience, but preparing the canvas and palette can be much more strenuous than brushing on gesso and squeezing a few tubes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so noisome, should there not be the requirement of moving the gear over hill and dale, and crossing bridges to reach houses your grandmother wouldn’t dare set foot near in order to present your art to the masses. Unfettered so would not be quarrelsome. Alas, it is not to be in this age. Armies march with sword, shield, and armor and Bionaut must load in and load out with the same.
Bionaut is an ‘old-school’ electronic act. We already own piles of electronic instruments built of steel and circuits. Born in an earlier age, we lumber as dinosaurs. The ground will shake and the tiny mammals shall quiver and hide. Bionaut shall convey its weighty presence to all corners of its empire until gravity shall pull it down. The descent of bones imagined as the hope of a fossil record bears the effort.
I know of no other band that even approaches our lack of logic. We are perhaps like Romans styling ourselves as Hellenic philosophers, refusing to learn the lesson that non-commercial effort leads to no success yet reveling in our glory as aesthetic champions. We hew to the belief that communion with the mysteries represents an ideal which attained bestows a sense of spiritual triumph and, thusly, justification of the work.
