The clock of the four winds is a tall-case grandfather style clock originally assembled in 1710 by an Italian astronomer and mathematician named Ricco Foscari, a direct patrilineal descendant of famed explorer, vintner and occultist, Cosimo Foscari. The magical properties of the clock were such that when its hands were moved and positioned in certain configurations, it would trigger remote viewing events which would be projected onto the glass panel cover. The clock was also rumored to serve as a sort of “beacon” used for summoning an other-dimensional being named “Desdinova” who acted as a sort of intermediary between detached yet interconnected causal timelines.
It was the sole surviving relic of a devastating fire on the Foscari estate, where it sat in the wreckage, everything burned to ash around it while the clock itself remained unscathed. It was recovered by surviving members of the Foscari family when, unaware of the clock’s mystical properties, the family sold it at auction. It traded hands for over two centuries before it was purchased by an English collector Franklin Bell for the sum of 20 British pounds after world war two, when it was once again found strangely undamaged, amidst bombed out rubble and toppled buildings in Stepney, London.
After Franklin Bell’s acquisition of the clock, it sat against the wall for several decades through the mid 20th century – in a bar named “The Four Winds” in Long Island, New York – which in the 1970’s was frequented by the area’s motorcycle gangs. The clock was positioned to disguise a hidden doorway which led to a series of secret rooms and underground passageways rumored to have been used for magical rituals and clandestine gatherings of powerful and subversive figures from around the world. When the hands on the clock were moved backward to the midnight position, the clock would slide out to reveal the doorway marked with unusual moon and bird shaped glyphs, as well as several arcane sigils which seemed to pulse with a subtle, bluish light.
To this day, the clock remains a staple of the infamous Bell collection, displayed in the back room of their storied museum and antique shop in Portland Oregon.
LINER NOTES:
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The basic idea of the Clock and the Four Winds Bar is a direct tie to the song “Astronomy” by Blue Oyster Cult. The song references the clock and the bar, “…behind the clock back there you know, at the four winds bar.” The song is also a pivotal chapter in the “Imaginos” story originally conceived of by producer and visionary Sandy Perlman. Much of the Mystic Tape Deck universe is inspired by the storytelling style and presentation of the Imaginos material and concept. You should dig into it if you are interested, it is a more-than-worthy mine full of glimmering ores. Our intent is not to plagiarize or otherwise “copy” what they did, but to pay homage to the magnificence of the concept by dove-tailing our project into the universe of Imaginos. In the fourth section of the song we again reference a character named “Desdinova” who was the central figure of the Imaginos saga. “I Am The Storm” is also the title of another Blue Oyster Cult song off the Mirrors album. This piece of music is literally rife with allusions and quotes from the Imaginos saga, with a particular focus on “Astronomy” which has always felt like a puzzle-story to me, full of mystery and wonder which has fascinated me since my earliest childhood memories of first discovering it. We place the Four Winds bar within our universe, and identify it as a sort of crossover point between the parallel causal dimensions of reality. Our intent is to fully honor the sovereignty and brilliance of Sandy Perlman while we also carry the story forward as a tangent to our universe.
For the musical ideas, we once again started with a custom-tuned autoharp where all strings were tuned to a variation of the G major scale, so it could be played without the chord keys, and instead hammered on lightly by a drum stick or a small wooden mallet. In the first take, we put an SM58 mic on it and ran that through a “memory boy” guitar pedal which produces an analog delay type effect. While Ron played the autoharp, I worked the knobs on the delay pedal, changing the delay time to create random modulations. As the initial track went on, the modulations got more frequent and extreme (some of these can be heard peeking through the mix in the third section “fly high soaring high birds.”) On two subsequent takes we left off the delay effects and Ron played it purely to create a stereo image of “stringed percussion.”
I did approximately eight vocal tracks, which were mixed to sound like a choir. Most of these were done with an SM58 in my kitchen. I worked out some of the chords on the piano then set about singing them until I felt I had gotten them to the point they were serving the desired purpose. I wanted them to sound reverential and “churchy.” Like they were singing in worship. The guitars and banjo were added as a thickener, and to transport the song to a fireside campout folk-music storytelling session with a warm orange glow.
We play around with some time signatures in the first bridge with the steel drum, ebowed guitar, bamboo clackers and kalimba. It’s not super complex but a little tricky, three bars of three followed by a bar of four. It is a time signature combination we play around with often because of its sort of “drunken dancing” feel, where there is suddenly an extra step that feels almost accidental. The lyrics refer to primordial sludge and the “will” of the muddy creatures to evolve out of the mud and take to the skies. It represents morning, and spring. A time of growth and change.
The first bridge in the song breaks out into a classic rock formatted (guitar, bass, drums) stretch, once again utilizing the 3-3-3-4 time structure. This is where the “scales turned to vellum” become feathers which “shake loose from the mud” and life emerges as brightly colored birds.
This rock riff quickly gives way to the “great swooping birds” section where the chord progression is given a twist with a three chord turnaround, followed by a longer straighter turn on four chords. These alternate throughout, while the lyrics sing about the soaring high birds and washboard clouds of summer. Wafting, elevating breezes, mighty birds soaring through the air with the exuberance of youth and the freedom from the shackles of their primordial origins in the sticky mud which had held them back. The section is a triumphant celebration breaking loose into a new world where the sky is the limit, but beware of this sun-like hubris, for autumn is approaching and the seasons will have their way.
The fourth section is nicknamed “Desdinova’s confession” and is intended to serve as an evening revelation that all that is, is made of all which came before it. As the sun sets lower in the sky and the trees lose their leaves and we become less proud and arrogant, we see that we are a product of the world which raised us, but we still ultimately control how we receive our fate. Desdinova warns us here that there is a storm coming, a storm of age and decay. That to see inward, we must now turn outward and ponder the greater mysteries of life which we mostly ignored in the pride of youth. In this section, we used the choir samples, guitar parts played in fifths and punctuated by single chord strikes through a tremolo.
The section concludes with a thunderstorm, where we sampled our own song “Cumulus Cloud Part three: Precipitation” from “BARDS: Of The Morning Star.”
This cross fades into a midi-basson playing a laboring, plodding melody, meant to sound like an elderly person hobbling along with a cane. The lyrics center on reflections of glory days when they slayed the dragon and “pickled its eyes” – all while lamenting their aching knees and frail physical state. Now filled with the desire to return to the legendary island of dreams, and rejoin the “lotus eaters” to lie about in the sun and sleep in peaceful apathy, until finally succumbing to death and sailing away from life on beautiful swimming swans.
While in general, the song is in the key of G, we progressively altered the scale by notes found in Hindustani ragas intended for representing morning, afternoon, evening, and night.
LYRICS:
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The chariots lie broken exhausted from war
The wheels rolled off in the mud
In the morning all good things are good
The sun warms up the mud
Stillness is raptured in all its arising
The seeds grow up from the mud
In the morning the dawn weighs a feather
The insects hatch from the mud
The hunger for sunlight draws flies to the surface
The babies wake up in the mud
In the morning from green murky waters
To wiggle around in the mud
Bones growing hollow, the gills turn to lungs
Gasping for breath in the mud
The fins turn to legs the scales turn to vellum
As feathers shake loose from the mud
Fly high, all you flying high birds
While the warm western winds are beneath you
Oh you soaring high birds
The sky coming down to greet you
We’re all dying to meet you
The bird, the great swooping bird
Beak open, gobbling gold
Oh you soaring high bird
The north winds are growing cold
Feathers flush with colors bold
Now pretend you are the sun
Feathers flush with colors bold…
Now pretend you are the sun
The southern winds, the washboard clouds
Diving daringly during the day
Teetering upon the tip of the tree
The seasons will have their way
Tail feathers turning to gray
Scatter little birds, oh you tiny little birds
The easterly light is encroaching
Seeds spilled upon the ground
With the end of the autumn approaching
And the seasons must have their way…
Now pretend you are the sun
And the seasons must have their way…
Now pretend you are the sun
And the seasons must have their way…
Rider’s final horse has ridden
Puzzle finished, last piece hidden
Oysters chatter on evening tide:
“I’m Desdinova and I confide,
I am the one you warned me of
I am the leak and the long lost love
And I am the one who will never lie
Deathless, I may never die
By lizard lens and crystal rope
You know me by my telescope”
Scattering stars in hand she shouts:
“The play is what it’s all about
Behind the clock with arms stretched tall
The script is on the western wall
Behold the light that never warms
You’ve been warned, I am the storm”
So raise up your chalice and toast to the moon
And sing to the stars as they flicker and loom
O! Irony! O! Tragedy!
Aching knees don’t fail me now
We slayed the vile dragon who lived in the skies
We bathed in its blood and we pickled its eyes
O! Devilry! O! Revelry!
If my friends could see me now
O! Bravery! Camaraderie!
The last lotus eaters recline in the sun
The race to return has been finally run
Finality! Causality!
Swept away on swaggering swans