Talk about Chicken is more post-impressionist, antediluvian than The Laundry Burglar. A large potion of these crazy answering machine messages from the early 1980s included my roomates at the time, great jazz trombonist Paul McKee and my brother, Doug Laningham. This one features Paul and I multitracking chickens doing atonal swing. Paul supplies the lovely mallet work, I play brushes on snare, and there are other things going on in the background that I now find hard to discern.
One of my great pals from Austin, Texas, Beverly Spicer, is a deep and expansive thinker, and happens to love this one. Go figure. We must be communicating something beyond what we realized at the time.
I know we pushed the boundaries of our callers’ patience with this one. I don’t remember anyone ever leaving a message after this, or making it to the beep.