More Studio. . .

I should start taking some webcam pictures of the studio.

Peja has been wicked awesome about continuing to let me mess around with drum loops and bass lines. . .  And guitars. . .  And vocals. . .  And some hand-claps.  She's a good kid.

I've just been letting the monitors blare, so there's always music coming out of the studio -- and since I'm building from drum-loops, there's always a beat for her to groove to.

The bigger issue, of course, is that I still have a current album, and if one is to record a new one, it's birth signals the death of the previous.  There just isn't any way someone is going to buy two of my records at once.  It'll never happen.  Alright, maybe my Grandmas would, but I feel like even they would ask, "lovely dear, so which one is better?".  And I really think this next record will be quite different from the one before, which further complicates things.

I recorded 2 albums a year for the better part of my adult life -- I stopped with Seaweed Girl, because I wanted to focus on promoting it.  I spent a lot of time and a bit of money to have it be THE album that I would present to people.  THE album that you could buy at the show (Also available at ZAP records on Princess Street!).  THE album for the website.

I was late the guitar party.  I couldn't play an F until I was 16.  Even then it was a struggle.  I watch my little guitar students trying, and I want to say, "Ah, don't worry, in another 6 years it'll be easy. . .".  I've always played barely well enough to write songs, and then the studio would save me by letting me do 30,000 takes of everything.

This is getting scattered.

It's late.

I took a bath.  (Yes, mom, it happens).  My limbs are warm and lazy.  My brain's a little shy of blood. (Yes, Tara, even more than usual).

The point, I guess, is that I feel like my abilities are always changing, and the music I can make (if I'm lucky enough to receive it out of the ether) is changing too.  And I put out THE record over a year ago.  Which isn't that long.  I guess. . .

I hope you are well.

I'm playing tennis against my boss on Monday.  Get ready for the basketball blog (which is suppose to be about the band) to turn into a tennis blog (which is suppose to be about that band).