AEJ and I have been talking about moving for several months. She’s a screenwriter, and it’s nearly impossible to get that kind of work in New York. Los Angeles is where all of the action happens.

We started looking at places using LA Craigslist, and we found a place that looks amazing. Great neighborhood, views of a reservoir, a large deck facing that reservoir, washer & drier, central air, 50% bigger than our current two apartments combined… Kind of perfect, it seemed. The place is an enormous duplex, and the owners of the building live in the rear 2/3 of the property, so it’s important that we all get along. They were understandably reluctant to rent to somebody they hadn’t met in person, but we won’t be able to get out to LA until early August, and by then this place would certainly be gone. We chatted on the phone several times over the past few days, hoping to convince them that we were nice, put in an application last night, and this morning, we found out…

We got it.

Suddenly, I’m terrified. We’re moving 3000 miles away. That’s right: as of September 1, we’ll be living in Los Angeles.

I’m still a little in shock about it. But when I look at the living room, it seems like it’s going to be okay…

I bought an album the other day, essentially as a joke, thinking it would be good for a laugh. Turns out it’s great.

Check out the Paul Anka album, “Rock Swings.” Paul Anka, best known for hits in the early 60’s like “Put Your Head On My Shoulder,” and the theme from “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson,” is still around, and man, he’s still sounding fantastic.

The album contains over a dozen superbly-engineered tracks of Anka singing big band arrangements of rock songs like “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and “The Eye of the Tiger.” I thought, “this sounds like it’ll be funny,” but although some of it will make you smile, it’s largely because it works so surprisingly well. My personal favorite is Anka’s rendition of “It’s My Life” — originally by Bon Jovi.

Anka still sounds great, and the arrangements — by Randy Kerber, Patrick Williams, and John Clayton — are unbelievable. The Washington Post seems to agree. (The only real misstep, to my ear, is the beginning of “Jump.”)

So pour yourself a martini, head over to the iTunes Music Store, and buy this album.

And I’m being totally serious.

I’ve written before that for the past 2 years, AEJ has been — and I don’t mean this to sound cheesy — the biggest inspiration and influence on my music. We talk about every piece before I start it, and throughout the composition process. I had been reluctant to talk to her about the new piece — the one I’m still trying to start — because, well, I had no real idea what I wanted it to do. “Percussion-driven. Kinda like Tool.” I mean, is that even a cell of an idea?

For AEJ, it was. We started talking about the piece last night as we were going to bed, and before we knew it, it was after 3am. Bad news was that AEJ had to get up early and go to work, having gotten very little sleep. Good news is that I now know what the piece is called, and more importantly, I know what it does. If I have the technique to pull it off, it’s going to rock.

That, of course, is the big question — Do I have the technique to write the piece I want to write? Most of my music isn’t about “technique,” but rather about instinct while I’m writing it. At least that’s how it feels. I mean, the “record-speeding-up” section of Sasparilla took some technique to write, but really — it was minimal. What I’m planning with this new piece, though, will be tricky.

More to come, as I figure this thing out.

And if this doesn’t work, I’ll just write “Snooze,” the sequel to Eric Whitacre‘s “Sleep.” The piece will start with an annoying, blaring, grating, “beep. beep. beep. beep,” followed by some pretty dream-like music, and ending — far-too abruptly — 9 minutes later, with a return of the “alarm”ing beep. beep. beep.

Well, it was funny at 3am.