“I’ll have you hooked with a single taste. When I’m done, you’ll never walk away. ’Cause you won’t break something you wanna keep. And I’ll make sure this stays in one piece.” — “Bet You Can’t,” introducing Aly Cutter

Kinda erotic, kinda explicit. Kinda awesome.

Bass composer Jon von Boehm’s upcoming album, Hustle, oozes sex appeal, thanks to Aly Cutter’s lyrical hits. Her silky voice is all you hear, all you wanna hear, enveloped in Matrix dance moves, follow the white rabbit Neo, and bomb-ass bass solos. Lust and love at first sight.

von Boehm records his first vocal pop…

in my dreams
I look for a key
already in my front right pocket
next to the plane ticket
and a taped picture of you
and I, together in one of those funny
yearbook poses of the ‘70s

a window is always open to the other side storms and dinosaurs, seas and ice caps, happy, shiny people in Eddie Bauer ads sipping lattes in gleaming white cups, their eyes peering over designer glasses - celebrities, elusive, vibrant, and slightly vacant when you ask them for the time - as if they’ve seen a ghost, pass the scones, darling, where was…

I see two horses on my neighborhood walk. They’re the highlight of my day.

If they’re not in sight, if a dust storm — we get lots of them here in Idaho — starts up suddenly…I worry about them.

I make up stories about where they could’ve gone off to. I check their ribs, to make sure they’re muscular and strong, not emaciated.

My father loved horses. More than dogs. To hear him talk about them, the majestic beauty of them, the rare times he wasn’t enraged and on a murderous tear, is to truly have lived. …

I call him Michael, after the bully who shook us down for lunch money and made my life a living hell, simply because I was born this way, back at Newcomb Middle School, circa 1976-’77.

Because irony is life…

Michael, my arch angel, spirit guide, friend.

Almost everything about this place is the opposite of what it should be. The clumsy language barriers…the focus on material wealth and status cliques.

Except, maybe nature, untouched by these creatures who purport to be men.

Friend in the original language means so much more than the girls you drink wine with on the…

we are amber waves blowing with the wind dancing to an invisible musical chord, tuned to one, vibrating pitch. every so often, I reach the tallest heights to look around these fields of gold and dare to dream I am the farthest ship at sea. I am here. I am beautiful, vibrant, and so very different from you all when I know deep down, I am one of a million.

It’s nothing.

A bunch of names from the post-WWII, exotica heyday, in the framework of an upcoming musicians’ union, “Member Spotlight” interview:

“The music’s kind of an early World Music…

“In my little town,
I grew up believing
God keeps His eye on us all.
And he used to lean upon me
As I pledged allegiance to the wall.
Lord, I recall in
My little town.

Coming home after school
Flying my bike past the gates
Of the factories
My mom doing the laundry
Hanging our shirts
In the dirty breeze…

In my little town, I never meant nothin’ I was just my father’s son Saving my money Dreaming of glory Twitching like a finger On the trigger of a gun Leaving nothing, but the dead and dying Back in…

“I loved Africa and it stays with you,” she told BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs last year.

She said she caught the performance bug while performing in the school choir.

“That night I will never forget walking in and standing on that stage, having been not that interested up till then… Suddenly the orchestra started up and I sang so loudly, and the whole body vibrated,” she recalled.

“It was the most extraordinary thing I’d ever been part of. It was a piece of music I would never ever be capable of writing, and I realised from a very…