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.


This message was sent far away from home.