At the beginning of this piece, I had a specific image in mind: driving at night on a deserted Southern California desert highway. It was a Lynchian cocktail for me—dark and seductive, nostalgic but vaguely wrong—like Twin Peaks’ dreamy fog rolling into the hard glare of Lost Highway. David Lynch has long been a major influence on my creative thinking.

“Parallax” is the phenomenon in which an object seems to shift position depending on where you’re standing, or moving, as you look at it. In this trio, that idea plays out musically: elements move at different speeds, drifting past each other, briefly aligning, then slipping out of sync again.

The parallax first appears in accompanimental figures, as melodic lines move past one another at different rates. Gradually, that same sense of displacement spreads into the harmonic world, so that motion is no longer confined to individual voices but begins to shape the entire musical landscape. In that sense, the piece behaves like a night drive through the desert: nearby mile markers flash by in an instant while distant mountains seem almost motionless against the horizon.

The result, I hope, is a kind of nocturnal continuity—one long look out the windshield, where the scenery is always changing but the destination remains politely unclear.

—SC