www.evila.co.uk

"Fuck Art, Let's Fart" - spray painted in the 80s by Rat

Logic isn't jiving with my Pro Tools hardware and Pro Tools LE doesn't have plugin delay compensation. The ATA Mellowmuse plugin is worthless when you've trying to use a summing box and lots of analog gear, its absolutely inconsistent. The guitars sound thin and fuzzy. The snare has no body and no snap. I've used up all the iMac's memory and so Pro Tools crashes instead of closes. I've been working on these same stupid songs for over a year. 100-300 Hz is nonexistent no matter how much I treat the room. Why am I working so hard on the worst record I've ever made? No label is releasing it, it's purely a piece of art. Instead of making money I'm making something no one will ever hear or care about-- purely a vanity project. Just another one of those inexplicable things you have to do if you want to live with yourself.

One Fuck Up After The Other

This Frankenstein is covered with bandages. I'll screw something up and won't have time to patch it up properly. I'm the enemy, victim and war medic. What follows are the remains.

Whatever, I tell myself. It's just music.

I Take Breaks From Love

Pee breaks, that is. That's why I always know what phase the moon is-- I have a big, quiet backyard.

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.