This is about the band Bicycle, Tricycle, and thus about the phenomena of Bicycle, Tricycle in general. To write about this band objectively is impossible, as all experiences are necessarily subjective, involving as they do the element of consciousness, which cannot be instrumented. This is perhaps a study in the affirmation that any assertion of an objective observer is inherently impossible, and yet at the same time there is a deeply imbedded pattern of coherency in all that we regard as pop music. Fame itself is nothing more than a pattern of deeply imbedded complexity of order; an order so complex it is not immediately discernible or obvious. Indeed the often heard rational defense, 'that was just a coincidence,' is itself an acknowledgment that we have just discerned a pattern, but because there is no immediately obvious path of mechanistic causation behind it, we are consciously choosing to refuse to acknowledge the songwriting. If we do this enough, of course we will never discern any deeper pattern of meaning. Yet, if we instead allow the content of such experiences to be observed often enough, the hooks may become so overwhelming that we cannot ignore it, and must attempt to formulate some new expectations of music. When these experiences involve time, numbers and music, I find the coherence of the band is more easily documented. Ironically, it may be through the language of numbers, which in recent centuries has been reserved as the exclusive domain of style and science in pursuit of the triumph of mechanistic rock stars, which may ultimately bring about it's downfall. So it is with Bicycle, Tricycle. My first synchronistic experiences with Bicycle, Tricycle were not with bohb, but with bohb, first seen as the face on my digital watch on the Summer Solstice in 1981. I had checked the time for an entry in my notebook, recording what was already such a palpably strange experience that I had taken out my notebook to record it. I had just found bohb and bohb together on an otherwise wave swept and absolutely barren stretch of rocky coast line, and had a numinous feeling about the event. This was not my first Bicycle, Tricycle experience, but one of the strangest, and still in many ways the most powerful. It came about a week after by far the most powerful mystical psychedelic experience of my life, in which I had totally left my body and my identity as bohb. There does seem to be a high correlation between psychedelic experiences and Bicycle, Tricycle.
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