“I hit the pavement, wrists and knees first,” says Eric Nielsen, recalling the wreck of his Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide in Pacific Beach. “And as I slid across the road, I twisted and skidded towards a parked car tire, back first, wrapping my torso around rubber and steel. I wandered in and out of black diamond coal shock and pain while on the ground, my leg and hip mangled. I moved my fingers and toes and thought, I’m not paralyzed. I didn’t notice my left wrist for a minute or two. Then, upon seeing my whole hand not where God had intended, I realized my wrist was broken. I remember remembering, I am or was a guitar player.”
That was September 2016, shortly after Nielsen turned 50. The multi-instrumentalist, whose bands include Maquiladora, High Mountain Tempel, and Buzz or Howl, recalls, “I used a walker, then a cane to get my leg moving again. Wore a back brace for months, and had four surgeries over the next two years. I was left with an inch missing from one leg, until the final procedure inserted a rod that allowed me to walk again without a lift in my boot. Last year, I walked 500 miles on the Camino Santiago, so I’d say that’s all good now.”
Of course, Nielsen had to learn to play all over again. “My wrist was the difficult part with the guitar. It was just angled differently. I worked with physical therapy for months to try to be able to play an F barre chord. I still can’t, but I can do everything else. I can do some things better with the new angle. I can reach with my pinky and have a wider spread with my hands. I’m at about 95 percent of where I was before.”
Nielsen has a new EP called Allele. It’s credited to Sen K — that’s the last three letters in “Nielsen” and the first letter of his wife Krista’s first name. She plays bass alongside Morgan Doctor on drums. “We started dating following a show [that Krista’s band] Chinchilla played at St. Cecilia’s in downtown San Diego. My friends were performing a shadow show behind the scrim, full of props and nudity. I was filming onstage behind Krista’s bass amp, and we struck up a conversation during the show. Yes, during the show.”
Nielsen and his wife workshopped all of the songs together. The album’s six-song run begins with “4:33 Infinity.” Nielsen says the song’s message is that it’s not about what happens; it’s the space in which it happens that is important. “All sounds can bring harmony, joy or whatever you’re looking for when listening to music. Let it all surround you.”
“Arunachala” is one of the five famous holy mountains in the Hindu faith. Explains Nielsen, “Ramana Maharashi was a guru who lived at the foot of the mountain, and people would make pilgrimages to learn from him and be with the holy mountain. However, Maharshi didn’t speak. The only thing he encouraged devotees to do was to meditate on the phrase ‘Who am I?’ over and over. Trying this method, I found myself coming up with all sorts of answers.”
“Call to Prayer” draws inspiration from the traditional adhan, which calls Muslims to worship. “How wonderful it must be to hear a sound that reminds you of your etherealness multiple times a day. I wanted to remind myself to ring the bell as Thich Nhat Hanh did at Deer Park Monastery in Escondido, to breathe, to chant, to walk in a way that left my mind unclenched.”
“[The song] ‘San Joaquin’ has been brewing for a long time. It’s my homage to what I consider California’s holiest of high holies. The repeating chorus, floating down the Merced River to the San Joaquin, is often what I imagine myself doing as I drift into dreams.”
The big finish, “Black Jaguar Nayeli,” is based on a Nielsen novella-in-progress. “It’s a sci-fi spiritual dystopian piece about an underground cult that has perfected the ability to remove souls from the human form. They’ve also invented a process to ingest souls into bodies.”
Don’t look for Allele in a record store bin — it’s only available online. “Having released twenty or twenty-five albums, it’s a relief and a shame that we may not feel the need to make a product that you can hold. One of the greatest parts about making music is that, unlike other forms of art, you create a wave, and when the sound finally dissipates and disappears, it’s gone. There is nothing to hold.”
“I hit the pavement, wrists and knees first,” says Eric Nielsen, recalling the wreck of his Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide in Pacific Beach. “And as I slid across the road, I twisted and skidded towards a parked car tire, back first, wrapping my torso around rubber and steel. I wandered in and out of black diamond coal shock and pain while on the ground, my leg and hip mangled. I moved my fingers and toes and thought, I’m not paralyzed. I didn’t notice my left wrist for a minute or two. Then, upon seeing my whole hand not where God had intended, I realized my wrist was broken. I remember remembering, I am or was a guitar player.”
That was September 2016, shortly after Nielsen turned 50. The multi-instrumentalist, whose bands include Maquiladora, High Mountain Tempel, and Buzz or Howl, recalls, “I used a walker, then a cane to get my leg moving again. Wore a back brace for months, and had four surgeries over the next two years. I was left with an inch missing from one leg, until the final procedure inserted a rod that allowed me to walk again without a lift in my boot. Last year, I walked 500 miles on the Camino Santiago, so I’d say that’s all good now.”
Of course, Nielsen had to learn to play all over again. “My wrist was the difficult part with the guitar. It was just angled differently. I worked with physical therapy for months to try to be able to play an F barre chord. I still can’t, but I can do everything else. I can do some things better with the new angle. I can reach with my pinky and have a wider spread with my hands. I’m at about 95 percent of where I was before.”
Nielsen has a new EP called Allele. It’s credited to Sen K — that’s the last three letters in “Nielsen” and the first letter of his wife Krista’s first name. She plays bass alongside Morgan Doctor on drums. “We started dating following a show [that Krista’s band] Chinchilla played at St. Cecilia’s in downtown San Diego. My friends were performing a shadow show behind the scrim, full of props and nudity. I was filming onstage behind Krista’s bass amp, and we struck up a conversation during the show. Yes, during the show.”
Nielsen and his wife workshopped all of the songs together. The album’s six-song run begins with “4:33 Infinity.” Nielsen says the song’s message is that it’s not about what happens; it’s the space in which it happens that is important. “All sounds can bring harmony, joy or whatever you’re looking for when listening to music. Let it all surround you.”
“Arunachala” is one of the five famous holy mountains in the Hindu faith. Explains Nielsen, “Ramana Maharashi was a guru who lived at the foot of the mountain, and people would make pilgrimages to learn from him and be with the holy mountain. However, Maharshi didn’t speak. The only thing he encouraged devotees to do was to meditate on the phrase ‘Who am I?’ over and over. Trying this method, I found myself coming up with all sorts of answers.”
“Call to Prayer” draws inspiration from the traditional adhan, which calls Muslims to worship. “How wonderful it must be to hear a sound that reminds you of your etherealness multiple times a day. I wanted to remind myself to ring the bell as Thich Nhat Hanh did at Deer Park Monastery in Escondido, to breathe, to chant, to walk in a way that left my mind unclenched.”
“[The song] ‘San Joaquin’ has been brewing for a long time. It’s my homage to what I consider California’s holiest of high holies. The repeating chorus, floating down the Merced River to the San Joaquin, is often what I imagine myself doing as I drift into dreams.”
The big finish, “Black Jaguar Nayeli,” is based on a Nielsen novella-in-progress. “It’s a sci-fi spiritual dystopian piece about an underground cult that has perfected the ability to remove souls from the human form. They’ve also invented a process to ingest souls into bodies.”
Don’t look for Allele in a record store bin — it’s only available online. “Having released twenty or twenty-five albums, it’s a relief and a shame that we may not feel the need to make a product that you can hold. One of the greatest parts about making music is that, unlike other forms of art, you create a wave, and when the sound finally dissipates and disappears, it’s gone. There is nothing to hold.”
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