Evila Is Nearly.

We don't usually get warm and fuzzy about Halloween but the weather has been flawlessly spook-tastic. Last night I recorded whispered vocals for three songs and wrote lyrics for another three (the Chandler Limited TG1 compressor is dazzling). Still found time to practice on the Arctopus while getting creeped out watching Pin.

Evila is nearly.

Regeneration

I've spent a huge portion of my life staring at this. Not too proud of
that. But what the hey-- it serves a purpose.
Last thing I remember, I closed my eyes to listen to the level of the
sample underneath the real snare. When my face hit the keyboard, it
was time for bed.

DP
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Prussian Pink

We get sloppy when we move too fast, unfocused and incognizant of the
details. And the result is total shit, absolute fucking crap. It's
time for a gore feature.

DP

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Gargot In Action

I added a Big Knob, a Red Eye, and a Red Stripe to Gargot in the past
24 hours. These manufacters come up with the dumbest names... I am so
in love with my studio, I indulge in it's deep, rich sounds for as
long as I'm allowed. I spend a good portion of the day in the same 6
foot radius.

DP

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Boomslang

Played a festival in Lexington Kentucky. Slap happy and raw from the
evening's festivities!

DP

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Home On A Cloudburst

I keep tweaking Gargot Studios until it is airborne and germ-free.
Shit is sounding tight.

For too long I have lived in fear of my enemy-- they are about as
powerful as Dwight Schrute.

DP

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Grendel and Red Leaves

Drove for several hours through the back roads of Ohio. To pick up an
isolation cabinet. Ended up in Amish country-- dodging horse-drawn
carriages and bearded Mennonites. Didn't take any photos because I
didn't want to wow them with my technology. The iso-cab sounds pretty
sweet for 4am reamping.

DP

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Three Days Of This

Hula Hoop Dreams

At this point, he had been hula-hooping for over 55 hours. 

Working on the Ditz

Hello friends and lovers. I'm back for good. Fuck Facebook, fuck Twitter... This is my virtual diary! I finally have a phone with a camera and MMS thingamajig. I have no excuse for not letting you in to my weird world.

I'm Back In Black

Return of the Skullfisher

It's been a long, dark journey. My Psychic sidekick told me I needed
to write a book. And it's ambitiousness appealled to me. Not memoirs,
or wonky poetry you could download from some 14 year old's MySpace...
But a real book, a novel. Fiction. A comic book!

Metal H(e)aven, Motel Hell(o)

We give thanks, everyday, for specific people in our lives-- we visualize them clearly. We also send psychic hexes to our enemies, it's easy to visualize every stage of their blistering decay. Then we give thanks to ourselves, for making all this silly drama possible.

Fasting In Belfast

Jet lag offers a window of laziness. It takes a while for the music I make to catch up with the music I listen to, it takes years. By that time I'm usually over it. But I carry these gems with me that I never would have found otherwise. True discovery does not happen on the Intra-Web.

Thou shalt behold... the Arctopus!

Came home to a prototype Jackson 7 string. Neck through, EMGs, real Floyd Rose, Soloist body... Jesus, I almost had one of these custom-made last year, I can't believe they read my mind. That's why I am a proud Jackson endorsee. I need to treat it like a skateboard and start covering it with stickers and graffiti, or gaffa tape. My fingertips haven't been this calloused in years. I think all my future solo records are going to be written on this thick beast. 90s nü-metal gave the 7 string a bad rap. I have named her Arctopus, in honor of the band.

Bloodshot Mush

On the tour bus from Montreal to Toronto, 1-8am. Arriving in a daze, there's that moment before passing out, when the rest of the world is buzzing to start their day, when I am at my most disoriented. I find pictures like this on my phone when I awaken.

Black Attack

Maybe I don't hear what others hear, but I really love the sound of
early 90s, lo-fi Black Metal. I dont care about the politics and
ideology, it's the music I find really moving. The alienation, the
hatred-- I get it.

DP

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Backdivers

We are Backdivers who have surrendered to our fears, embraced the
flames, and have already started the lengthy questioning proccess.

DP

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A Large, Quick Turn

In March I went with Alex to see Carcass in Cleveland. I think it was March. They were funnier and tighter than I expected. Mike Ammot took only a few solos.

I got a text from Nick that night, asking if I wanted to jam with them-- I'll never forget it!

Now it is July.

As a road is always strange and beautiful with it's repetitions, I'm driving to that same venue tonight-- this time to share the stage with Nick.

RIP DASH

I took an opportunity to drink when it presented itself. Tried to see
Dead Weather and I wasn't on the guest list-- O golly gee! So I chose the always life-affirming DEADSEA instead. I drank and laughed to the point that supreme magic occurred, past anything I could have prepared for. For a moment, albeit concise, I forgot that I really was friends with Dash Snow-- a few hours previous I nearly convinced myself of the opposite.

DP

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