Notes
Track list
01 Departure
02 Contact
03 Arrival
04 Reckoning
05 Transformation
06 Rebirth
07 Reckoning Reprise
I first saw 2001 in a video cubicle at the Vassar College library many years ago, on a 15-inch screen with headphones on. I had time to kill while my cousin Janis was in class. I can’t remember exactly why I picked it; I knew about the computer that goes crazy and that it was parodied in History of the World (thank you, Peter R). And I had seen 2010 as a kid (when I asked my dad about it afterward, he said they made 2010 to explain 2001, and if I didn’t get 2010, I was in trouble). So I guess it was always on my must-watch list.
Personal video devices weren’t a thing then, and it was hard to separate the immersive experience of a movie through headphones from the film itself. But I remember thinking two things: “holy shit, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” and “I don’t really get it.”
Years later, I read the book. The book is much more literal, and finally, I got it. I finished it on the plane home from Japan (I’m just realizing now that we were there for Janis’s brother’s wedding, funny connection!) and felt a sense of awe and wonder and accomplishment as I reflected on the magic of visiting Kyoto with a two-year-old and the timelessness of the infinite.
I continued to think about it often. I re-read it at some point. But I didn’t watch the movie again start to finish until 30 years later, on the plane ride to Chile that started my own journey last December. It was pretty random that it was an option, and again, there I was, watching on a small screen with headphones on. It still looked so good.
As I watched the final sequence this time, I saw more of myself in Dave — ok, maybe a week at a hostel in San Pedro wasn’t quite the same degree of “facing the unknown,” but I was nervous to be on my own for the first time in a while, and I had high expectations as I returned to the place that was so formative for me. I shared his sense of curiosity and acceptance of whatever the universe had in store.
I also heard music. As Dave lets go of the life he knows, the comforting sounds of home one last time. As he approaches the monolith and enters the star gate, it gets exotic and intense. As he arrives, a dark groove. When he enters the bedroom, sadness and nostalgia as he realizes “this is it.” When he sits down to eat, something silly, like “wait, they have food here?” And as he transforms from old man to star child, the sounds of what he once knew return.
I worked out some rough ideas while traveling. When I got home, I rewatched each part and found specific moments that I wanted to write to, and I aligned the songs to hit those moments.
As I charted the lyrics out, I realized there were a bunch of themes that all made sense. There’s birth — Dave goes through the gate and exits as a (star) child — and death — Dave goes through the gate and exits into the beyond. It’s the arc of a journey, or a relationship. It’s fear, excitement, acceptance, and understanding. And so I wanted the same songs to be interpretable across each of these.
Lastly, this was the first project I’ve worked on since generative AI came to be, and it was incredible to experiment with what it can do with audio. You can input a recording of anything from an idea to a full track and it’ll “listen” to your audio and add to it. Or you can describe what you want in words and it’ll try to create something to match your request.
The first time I uploaded a voice memo I just couldn’t believe what it gave back to me. It was like it had read my mind. Eventually, the back-and-forth felt like writing with another person, just on a whole other scale. This writing partner offered infinite, perfectly played parts in any instrumentation I could imagine.
How did I feel about that? I loved it. I don't play pedal steel, and I'm not much of a guitar player or singer. It would never really make sense to hire people for this kind of project. And while it wasn't the same as working with live musicians, AI allowed me to get something close to what I wanted.
At the same time, it's scary, and hard not to see the dystopian side of a technology that can mimic humans this well. There are such broad implications for all of society, and we're just getting started on this very 2001-like journey.
Thankfully, it should be a while before we're all star children. I’m glad you’re here as I take my first steps into that future.
- Russ, February 2026
© Russell Greenspan