I think you're right on all counts.
As you saw, Max and I practiced all the Joe Lazarus songs, as well as the songs "One and Only" and "Centerstage." My only thought is that those last two really don't fit musically or lyrically. Especially if we're going for a What's Going On kind of dynamic, I almost would like to leave those two out (do your soul a favor and listen to the entire thing right now). What's Going On only clocks in at around 36 minutes, but of course it has that unity that makes it feel like a whole universe opening up every time you listen.
The Joe Lazarus songs, inasmuch as they are the only songs we have written together, have a totally unique character. In fact, I think they are important in that they are an emblem of the project as a whole: the synthesis of Will and Art, will and art, definitude and indefinitude, being and nothingness, Apollo and Dionysus, who knows what else. Perhaps Joe Lazarus, Holy Spirit like, exists in the relationship between us.
Max is on fire by the way. I have this compulsive desire to harness and harvest him in all his youthful enthusiasm. Need to just let the guy flourish in whatever way he wants. Hilariously (okay, sort of dark humor), he wants to start a new documentary. I've informed him of the apparent dangers of such an undertaking. We're basically just getting any and all footage we can. Here's some from last night. Not sure what any of this is for, but I think we again need that Robert Frost "Unharvested" attitude:
Unharvested
A scent of ripeness from over a wall.
And come to leave the routine road
And look for what had made me stall,
There sure enough was an apple tree
That had eased itself of its summer load,
And of all but its trivial foliage free,
Now breathed as light as a lady's fan.
For there had been an apple fall
As complete as the apple had given man.
The ground was one circle of solid red.
May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan,
Apples or something forgotten and left,
So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.
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