I don’t play trombone, but<\/p>\n
If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n Bathe in yak\u2019s blood for a month<\/p>\n Shave with an axe<\/p>\n Tattoo a picture of Thor\u2019s hammer on my forehead<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n Practice starting a lonnnnnnng note REALLY fucking pianissimo, then make a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng diminuendo to nothing<\/p>\n And practice the silence that follows that note, and the breath that precedes it.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would<\/strong><\/p>\n Practice Ride of the Valkyries on the prow of a Viking attack ship<\/p>\n Use the severed head of a conquered Gaul for a mute<\/p>\n Clean my horn with the swaddling clothes of a new-born prince<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n Take a lesson from James Brown<\/p>\n And another lesson from James Bond<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n Imagine that when I play the last quarter note of the piece, the entire room would be engulfed in white fire, then go totally black on the cutoff<\/p>\n Imagine the first soft chord of \u201cthat\u201d chorale is so in tune that the entire universe hums and the mountains sink contentedly, just a little, into the earth beneath them every time my section plays it.<\/p>\n Find a sound made of stone, and another made of glass, and another made of water, and one more, made of blood<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n Spend a month watching the loneliest man in the world, and trying to imagine my sound was his voice when at last God chose to listen to him<\/p>\n And I would also imagine my sound was the voice of God when he answered the loneliest man in the world with an implacable \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n And I would imagine my sound was the disinterested emptiness of Nature, when God had again left that man alone again<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If I were to play trombone in a Bruckner symphony, I would\u2026\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n Shine my shoes with Donald Trump\u2019s hairpiece<\/p>\n Brush my teeth with steel wool<\/p>\n Wear a suit that would make Armani himself weep with jealousy, and a pocket silk of royal blue<\/p>\n Fill my handmade alligator-skin shoes with tiny, sharp stones, so I never feel too comfortable<\/p>\n And, underneath, I would wear a loin cloth made from the hide of the fallen king of the Wyoming buffalo, who I would have killed with my bare hands and skinned with my embouchure<\/p>\n