{"id":5623,"date":"2021-01-28T13:28:00","date_gmt":"2021-01-28T18:28:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/?p=5623"},"modified":"2026-05-08T19:37:43","modified_gmt":"2026-05-08T23:37:43","slug":"boards-of-canada","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/boards-of-canada\/","title":{"rendered":"Boards of Canada"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Pic unrelated<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

One of my all-time, top-five, desert-island favorite bands is the Scottish electronic music duo Boards of Canada. For over a decade, I listened to their albums while working, for inspiration. I find their music transcendent and beautiful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have not listened to them in over five years. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

I don’t owe anyone an explanation, but the truth is that I have to get this out of my system, although I feel uneasy using this for “content”. I considered doing this as a strip, but it would be even less fun drawing it than writing about it, which I suspect is not going to be fun at all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A strange side effect of writing the same comic strip for 23 years it that you lose all perspective of your audience’s familiarity with your previous work. I have no idea if I need to repeat things for the newcomers, but what are the odds the average visitor has read all 139 strips?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, do I need to remind you about this thing called the Ohrwurm? That’s German for “ear worm”. It means the part of your brain wherein songs become stuck. It was a leitmotif in a few of my strips. I have an Ohrwurm so voracious I literally have to meditate to control it. There are songs stuck in my head that don’t exist in reality, because I haven’t written them yet<\/em>, and I “played” them over and over so that I wouldn’t forget them before I physically notated them, and does any of this make sense to anybody?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Also in case you didn’t know, in March of 2015 there was an incident where my two closest friends were murdered a three-minute distance from our house. I’m sitting here trying to come up with excuses to discontinue this article, that’s how little I enjoy detailing the experience. I know I’ve spoken about it before, if you want the details, see the interview in the sidebar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, there was a period of several hours where I didn’t know whether my friends were alive or dead, and I kept calling their phones, over and over, unable to sleep, hoping one of them would pick up and tell me that what I’d heard was an error, somebody got the details wrong, they’re fine, they’re about to walk in the door, it was all a mistake. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

No one picked up. Eventually I received confirmation that they were in fact dead. This is why I hate March. I beware the Ides of March like a motherfucker. This is how I deal with shit, I make jokes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But for that agonizing period of hours, as the lead weight of what had happened was lowering onto me, as I hoped in vain that my friends would still be alive, prayed to God and<\/em> Krishna just to be on the safe side, I had the following song stuck in my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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