Stories from the City at Night

Product Description Pete Wyer, storyteller, composer and master of the spoken word, brings you through a journey showing the sights, sounds and moods of New York City. Employing an assembly of talented vices and a score of music that is a at once introspective and far reaching. He has devised an audio tour through the city, as seen and experienced by it's characters and complimented with a soundtrack evocative of city life. An album 3 years in the making, this CD is meant for anyone that has ever visited New york, or really any major city. It's for anyone that love a good story. It's for someone that needs more out of music, and for the cerebral tourist in all of us. Review "It's an album that demands full attention, without the intrusions of life. Played with the lights out and without any distractions, the city, New York, comes alive." --All About Jazz.com A record is judged a success when it creates its own context, which it upholds with content. If the content stretches only to the parameters of context and not beyond, there is a sense of limitation to the album. But in Stories From The City At Night, the mixture of music, prose and sound transforms the album into a sieve for imagination, catalyzed by the meaning behind the very first story ("Rain At Night"). The development of a story is akin to the way in which a suite of music is composed, beginning with an overture, an introduction, and followed by the gradual unfolding of each successive movement or chapter. Here, each story changes in color and mood, but is still understandable, both literally and metaphorically, as a facet of the whole. The recording begins with the sound of a helicopter, forming a ceiling for the world highlighted by the narrative, and signifying perhaps that the sky is also the limit in terms of compositional freedom. The helicopter also provides an able vehicle for entering and experiencing this world. A male voice accompanied by luring symphonic strings provides a smooth transition into specific scenes. The clarity of the plucked guitar breaks the overture with a tinge of Spanish overtone, and personifies the conceivable isolation of a single person in New York City. Siren-like female voices interweave with the blue, yearning sultriness of a tenor sax. The sounds of rain, thunder, a husky male voice, grand orchestral surges and a further mixed chorus frees the listener