I miss Yanni, (and his bodyguard.) I miss his Yanni ways. He has come and gone, like a hailstorm of greek decorum and magnetism (playing Benaroya this past Sunday.) I will miss Yanni’s sonic falconry. Or eaglery, since he prefers eagles. I was able to catch up with him for a few more words:

I like your philosophy on making rewrites instead of mistakes. When people think Yanni, they think of you as a consummate pro, a marksman of a musician, who plays with almost superhuman ability. How often do you make mistakes?

Yanni: That actually happens quite a bit. When you play live with fifteen musicians it’s bound to happen. We do re-writes all the time with all of the musicians, especially me [laughs]. Most of the time I think that it’s only us on stage who know what the mistake is but there have been a few times where we needed to start the song again. It’s always a good thing when we all finish a song together.

What is the most number of keyboards you have ever had assembled onstage. It looks like you have sixteen keyboards. Keyboards are all around you, you play with both hands, left and right, front and back. It almost looks like you have three arms. Is it ever confusing telling all the keyboards apart?

With our current tour we have twelve keyboards on stage. I play on six and Ming Freeman plays six. I’ve always had a lot of keyboards on stage, going back over thirty years to my rock and roll days. I design the keyboard stations and program them with my own original sounds, this makes me very intimate with the keyboards, so it never gets confusing for me.

[I sing] Baby come back, any kind of fool could see. There was something in everything about you. Baby come back, you can blame it all on me. I was wrong and I just can't live without you.

I'm not sure I know that one.

I miss you.

I miss you too. Thank you to Seattle.