OK. Now it's getting good. Pride is creeping in. That isn't as bad as it sounds because in a moment, hours or minutes, the fear and questioning will return.

Enjoy your pride.
He Just Knew it was Over

"It is his special curse: to be able to fill his body with alcohol and drugs, and always have it function; never to be able to blot out what he has seen, what he knows. And looking around, he knows that it is over: the revolution, the fighting, the chance to be different. The counterculture has become The Culture, and out there in the streets is the proof...." (1976)

- Robert Sam Anson



I've been hand's off, for the most part. I need space. Space to forget. Space for the ears to heal. Space to think.

Needless to say, the record is always on my mind. In everything I do.

Listening to everything: music, sounds, noise, rumblings...words.

Getting closer. Will it be the masterpiece? Dunno. Will it be laughable shit? Dunno.

I see the mountain of work left, but am already saddened that it has to come to a conclusion.

Albums are trippy like that.


Cleverness is never as entertaining as blatant stupidity, failure and public humiliation.... The time of getting fame for your name on its own is over. Artwork that is only about wanting to be famous will never make you famous. Any fame is a bi-product of making something that means something. You don't go to a restaurant and order a meal because you want to have a shit.
- Banksy
From late 1998:

It's a Very Different World Again

Between all this Presidential blow-job cover-up nonsense and the bombing of terrorists (us & them, here & abroad), our world is again a very different place. Privacy doesn't exist. Peace does not exist. We've fooled ourselves to believe that they both exist. Our culture stagnates while cigar bars flourish. How did we become so deluded? Well, times have been good. Money is in the bank. Porsche sales are at an all time high. Well, believe me, there are more desperate poor in America today than at any other time. There are more people in prison in America than at any other time. The good old USofA has more internal and external enemies than at any other time. But times are good, remember.

This is a country for the young and the rich. If you are not either, you are nothing. If you are both, you're fat and happy (Americans are the fattest beasts on the planet). Why are we so consumed with Presidential fellatio? Why does the TV news compete to dictate what is important? We've forgotten what's important...because times have been so good. Individuals have grown selfish and narrow. The American economy is strong and the rich and the young are in control. Have you watched network television or listened to commercial radio lately? We live in happy-talk times, folks. We're dim to the ills of our own old and poor and we are completely blind to the relevant issues of the world. We're over-sensationalized ourselves into a coma. History predicts change.

For those who keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground, it's in the air. Things change. Someone has to take advantage.


On another note, I'm almost at the point with this new record where I sell a few more bones to the devil and leave a pint of blood on the floor. The point where one puts one's heart into the project. Sometimes that comes early and you clean it up in production. Sometimes you do the left brain stuff up front and build a solid foundation, then you color out of the lines.

Once I cocoa up, I think I can put the emotion in and go into the middlespace. I may or may not come out with shoes.

I'm almost there. It's a defining point; the point where the result is art or product. The point where, if you're lucky, you fall squarely onto the favorable side of the conceptually stellar ^ random nonesense razor.



Something was bothering me. Specifically, I couldn't pinpoint. But, something was wrong with track seven, The Mighty Judge.

After the preliminary mixdown, I knew that it would require major work to make it usable. At some point a couple of nights ago, I woke up, went down stairs and deleter track seven. Scrapped in total. Delete, are you sure? Yes! Bye-bye.

I've never flet better.

The replacement tune, tentatively titled Track Seven, makes me happy. Very happy. It's not nearly as technically difficult or conceptually challenging, but it's warm and cozy. Safe.

Good for me.



First full-length mix-down today.

Some stuff finished, some with great potential. Some work remaining, some fixes and adjustments to be made. Lots of nitpicky crafting to accomplish. Perfection to attain.

At one section of the seventh cut, I wrote in my notes "More sonic adventures?" Is that possible? What does this piece of work mean?

At ~45 minutes it's already pretty dense (and strange (and confusing (and fucking beautiful!))).

I guess the good news is I did find 18 seconds to cut...

There's a couple of months left in this project yet.

Today's words of wisdom: What may sound great on headphones may sound completely ridiculous on speakers.



When is too much too much?

When does "conceptual" become noise?

When does "creative" become insanity?

Working alone, it is difficult to perceive the thresholds.