Who's to say where it started? Sometimes the question isn't to ask "where" but rather "why". Still, who's to say why it started? Who can even say what "it" is? Perhaps the question should be "when did it happen?" When does anything happen? Is it always happening and we are just fortunate to wrangle it from the ether only for long enough to observe

Who's to say where it started? Sometimes the question isn't to ask "where" but rather "why". Still, who's to say why it started? Who can even say what "it" is? Perhaps the question should be "when did it happen?" When does anything happen? Is it always happening and we are just fortunate to wrangle it from the ether only for long enough to observe it? Does it return there once we have finished with it, or are we draining a well for our own amusement? What if we are the well and it has come to pull us up and drink us in, releasing us from our stagnant hole to allow us to provide nourishment? What happens then when we're all drank up?

"Basement Cops" began as goof on a vintage police show theme. From there it became an immediate diversion from anything productive. This particular iteration came to be during quarantine after Brian was met with copious amounts of herbal inspiration and hit record. From there, The Adventuring Party passed it back and forth as it grew exponentially each time.

"Basement Cops" isn't any one thing in particular. While it is demonstrably a song, maybe it's more than that. Maybe it's a show about hardened detectives on the mean streets of the basement; like "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" meets "The Wire" meets "Toy Story" meets "Bad Lieutenant" meets "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans". Maybe it's a "Jacob's Ladder" scenario and it's the soundtrack to a dying mind. Maybe it's the score to a hard year and the result of pent up creativity forcing its way out in a smoke-filled haze. Maybe it's nothing at all or maybe it's everything all at once.