Discovalentí

Traveling on a pebbly beach in the Mediterranean earlier this year, pianist/producer Steve Zeller was listening to his iPod and enjoying the view when he suddenly found himself surrounded by a pack of vicious looking baboons. A Manhattan native, Zeller was well equipped to deal with low-caliber firearms, jones-ing crack whores, and all assortments of street thugs. Unfortunately he was completely unprepared for the fighting style of baboons with their rapid attacks and low center of gravity. Zeller was not fairing well. The baboons were shrewd and savage and seemed to be appearing in greater and greater numbers. "And all I wanted was a nice quiet beach trip in Malta" thought Zeller, as another baboon claw tore through his shirt.
Just when the last ray of hope was lost and the sun was drowned out by the sea of baboons, a giant yacht came flying aground from the sea. A colorful flag above the vessel read Discovalentí and a deafening outboard power amplifier blasted a grueling drum&bass lick at 180 beats per minute. A tall hooded man in bright orange robes leapt off the deck of the ship into the crowd of baboons. His fighting style was unorthodox yet effective, driving combinations of blows to the screeching hoard in precise flurries. When he had dispensed with the marauding baboons, the stranger brought Steve aboard the yacht. "My name is OrangeAudio ," he said, "but my friends call my Tommy."
To Steve's amazement, the lower decks of the Discovalentí contained a fully equipped vintage recording studio. Galleys of Arps, Moogs, Fender Rhodes, and Oberheims lined the undercarriage. Racks of Les Pauls, Rickenbackers, and tube amps grew out of the servants quarters. Steve sat down at a cream-colored 1974 Wurlitzer Student Model Electric Piano and began to play some chords over the deafening percussion track that echoed through the hull. It was a tune he had been writing about a pebble on the beach before his unfortunate attack called "A Single Stone". To his surprise the piano was already hardwired into the main audio system of the ship and soon the entire crew was Electric Slide'ing to the majestic combination of tones.
Tommy ran below deck and threw back his great orange hood in amazement. "I've been sailing the five seas for years looking for a band, but you are the first musician who has proven worthy." "A band?" said Steve "well how are you going to find a band in the Ocean?" "Hmm, good point" said Tommy, "I hadn't thought of that." "Well I've been traveling as well, and I think I have just the band for you." Steve had indeed been traveling and at his suggestion, Tommy navigated the Discovalentí around the world picking up the players that Steve had discovered. They sailed to Japan to enlist Shu Nakamura, a vagabond guitarist wielding the legendary Tele-Strat guitar. They journeyed to Italy to recruit Michael Goitein, whose proficiency with the Cajon was known from Sicily to Venice, and to the far reaches of the Himalayas where they found Cellist/Sherpa Christo Logan. Finally the Discovalentí set sail to the shores of Brooklyn to capture the sensuous and haunting vocals of Krista Collins. With the band complete, the Discovalentí dropped anchor and the sessions began.
If you see a giant orange yacht sailing down the East River pumping out tunes like you've never heard before, jump aboard and join the party. Unless you are a rabid baboon..