This was a lot of fun too. A pure funk beastie that I’m especially proud of for the amount of funk I was able to squeeze into a three and a half minute song, it’s from the perspective of a kid growing up in not exactly Beverly Hills. He’s bright though, this kid, and musically gifted. He finds a kindred spirit in Roger, a kindly man I modeled on Quincy Jones, Nile Rodgers, and Giorgio Moroder. Basically, “Roger has the synthesizers, he’s got the drum machines, and I just want to make the beats.” I never ‘had’ a Roger. The closest thing I had was a musical instrument shop in Dubai, run by a surly Indian salesman, who knew I’d never able to afford a Korg Triton or a Roland XP30. I was able to ‘afford’ to take as many catalogues and brochures as I could, before he chased me off. Good times.
Roger’s House is a throwback to a simpler time, if there ever was such a thing. When a kindly older man would mentor some young fool, take him under his wing, and show him how to program a Sequential Circuits Prophet 5, instead of joining a gang or getting involved in typical male adolescent behavior that gets so many of us men at a young age.