I finally met with the Music Director at St. James Cathedral. I was nervous, he said he was apprehensive if I recall. It was a discussion of tradition and modernity, purity and progress. Dr. Savage is twice my age, and has created beautiful sacred moments for thousands of people every year. His palette is the cathedral. I asked him to tell us his vision for contemporary music at St. James, which was code for—why don’t you let us bring in some loudspeakers and worship at volume, the kids will like it. They don’t have much use for amplified music, and for very good reason, they don’t need amplifiers. The space is a perfect acoustical environment, designed for choirs, orchestras, and their unmatched pipe organ (which, I learned has a real 32 foot pipe, not a synthesized one). All that is ever put to mic is the homily and perhaps a solo voice for the liturgy. Dr. Savage told us about the moment every Christmas Eve that a single boy sings from the loft and is heard in the ears of all 3,000 congregants. I wept. Me, I want loud massive chords filling every crevice. I want to feel the music and be emotionally gripped by immense overtones, tweaked oscillators, and rattling sub-woofers. I want cinema. (Well, sometimes. Our greatest achievement each set is the time of silence in the middle. To get there and back is no easy feat. It is exhilarating the few times we’ve done it right.) He mentioned the aesthetic divide that occurred in the 1920s when organs were slowly becoming electro-mechanical, and not just mechanical. Industry was impeding on humanity. It meant something for the space to serve the lone human, singing unaided to God; for an instrument to echo purely down the hall. Of course this is beauty. Of course this should be guarded. There are plenty of sacred spaces in Seattle for us to amplify and indulge our synthesized, high volume fetishes, why must we insist on converting St. James into another electronic venue. If years from now, St. James is hosting amplified music once a week at the expense of a full brass ensemble, I would be very sad. If all the soundtracks were produced on state-of-the-art string machines, films would be less lovely. One of the newest churches in Seattle is Bethany Community. They spent a mint on a board, speakers, microphones, effects, and wall treatment. We sound quite good there. Never mind how flat the space is to the eye. When will our city build another grand cathedral like St. James? I’d still like to play there, if just once. It is the most beautiful church I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’ll lock down an exclusive contract—one day a year they allow speakers through the doors, and of course we only use TicketMaster™. Surprisingly, I think I have a new hero. He wouldn’t let me apologize for my digital approach to sacred music and space. He insisted that I teach him something. We hugged. I think Tara stepped on his toe.