I finished recording the drums for one song today. My obsessive compulsiveness kicked in and I recorded the entire song a few bars at a time, several takes per bar. Now I'm straight outta "Comptown". Such a feeling of accomplishment to power down all those preamps and microphone power supplies, but sandwich bags over the mics. Until the next song.
I recorded drum takes today and, despite my 103 degree fever, shit was sounding tight. Shaking the dust off these old bones. Some elastic time, some close mic augmentation, and it was starting to sound like a real record. Realized one of my overheads was barely getting level, it's that cheap 1/4" patchbay voodoo again. Tomorrow I re-record all the drum takes I did today.
I forced myself to sit in front of the fire and just watch. I had to fight the urge to rearrange the logs for the hundredth time.
To show these songs to
Do not call a friend to witness
What you must do alone
These are my ashes
I do not intend to save you any work
By keeping silent
You are not yet as strong as I am
You believe me
But I do not believe you
This is war
You are here to be destroyed
I haven't been documenting with photos for two reasons:
1) I downgraded to a camera-less Blackberry.
2) I've been filming some of the studio set up and "pre-production" (not my favorite term) process. I'd like to eventually make a short film so people can see what goes into making a record like this. And my weird loner recording style.
I should probably be taking photos along the way as well, I never regret having them. Maybe someday I'll have an intern. My cats are useless.
Found a lot of photos I thought were lost forever, including my shows in Singapore, Australia and New Zealand from a few years ago. Mostly photos of beaches and friends but also strange hotel loner pics.
Drums assembled not, all over the floor. It's always such a chore for me to find the optimal tuning for each drum-- I'm a guitar player really.
Saw a new local band called Nukkehammer starring the coolest dudes on the planet-- Matt Miner from Teeth of the Hydra, Dennis, and the awesomely-named Laser. Old dudes playing hardcore like it's 1989. That's my vibe!
Louisville is not home anymore, and hasn't been for a long time.