I see a few benefits of my long commute to work.

My car handles like a race car and is very enjoyable to drive.

The stereo isn’t so bad, and half of the time now I don’t have any passengers. I can listen to whatever to I want, at whatever volume I want, without complaints.

It’s THE only time in my day when I’m alone. Wonderfully rare and precious Kathy Time. The time when I can think the best.

This morning I was listening to FACE, the new release from Markus Reuter and Pat Mastelotto. If you don’t already own it, you should. Go to! Buy Markus’ entire catalog while you are there.  FACE contains fantastic music from these two magicians, and has been a long time in the making. It is well worth the wait. Of course it was rather loud; is there any other way? I needed the volume to hear and best appreciate the depth of it and the richness of all the layers all the while trying to drown out the fast food truck with the faulty muffler that was ahead of me. Looking at the advertisement on the back of the truck, I started thinking… Billboard pop music is very much like fast food. Sure, it may ease your hunger and sustain you a while, but it’s often quite bland. More likely to induce some variety of gastrointestinal distress than any kind of satisfaction. It’s fakey. Lifeless. Predictable and dull. Definitely isn’t good for your health or for nurturing you. It’s crap.

Now I’ve written some fairly lengthy reviews, introductions and explanations of music before but never about Markus’ work. Interesting. Why haven’t I managed more than a handful of words about his music? Since I have no musical training (or talent), I can’t speak to the technical aspects of the art. I can only express how music makes me feel and think, and write from my head and my heart. Perhaps in my ultimate fangirl #swooniness I’ve been so intimidated with the fear that Maestro Markus may call my text trite “rubbish” and I’ll be left heartbroken.

Today I think I’m finally ready.
What was the catalyst?
A condiment.
More on that later.

Whereas pop music could be considered as fast food, Markus produces musical works that are more akin to gourmet feasts that have been lovingly slow cooked. Layer upon layer of subtle spices, flavors and nuances surprise your senses. One can’t possibly predict what you might discover in the next nibble. Unexpected combinations are pure magic to your senses. Like an experienced gourmand, Markus may serve up something you don’t readily recognize yet consume with delight, no matter. The skill it takes to make this happen isn’t learned overnight and aided by an autotuner or deep fryer. It takes passion, drive, training, experience, inspiration.

And great hair. But I digress.

Markus, please keep serving up your musical delights. You leave your audience wanting more, and we love you for it. Bravo, sir, and my most sincere compliments to the chef.

*Ala Carte Commentary on Condiments

I consider myself quite fortunate to have been able to share several actual meals with Markus over the past year. There were a few scant seconds during the most recent one that were eye opening. A side to Markus I never expected was revealed to me. I was shocked, truth be told.

With his finely muscled and oh-so-dexterous Touch Guitar© fingers, he upended a squeeze bottle, hovered it over his diner fried potatoes, and unleashed a veritable flood of tomato flavored goodness onto the spuds.

What the actual…? It was as if I had just watched Beethoven chomp into a Big Mac or call someone Bro.

Whatever the case, it made me love him even more. Rock on, MarkusDude, and pass the ketchup.


To learn more about Markus and to purchase his music:

Photo credit: Dutch Rall



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