Stop it. Put that down.
I spent Saturday afternoon in my parents’ basement, hunched over the long-dormant four-track. I thought I’d ease myself back into recording by doing some overdubs on a couple things I’ve had laying around for a while. I dork-fingered my way through them, re-establishing my status as king of the punch-ins. Actually, I was pretty happy with the addition I made to one song, a horrible blob I’ve built from the drums up, with no idea what might come next. I stuck some piano on there, and I think it might really become something soon.
Before I left for Burnaby on Saturday morning, I searched through my old tapes for some ideas I could work on that day. I found a thing I’d totally forgotten about—The Doomtown Overture, an instrumental I wrote and hastily recorded four years ago. I’d intended it for Doom Town, a Jack Chick/King Diamond-inspired rock opera that Smash and I were going to write. The patented (and interminable) Mule one-finger guitar solo (complete with thin direct-injection sound) mars it somewhat, but I think I’ll keep it as is. It made me laugh, and that’s my main test for whether one of my songs is worthy.
If I do some homework this week, I might be more productive when I return to the basement next weekend. I can already tell lyrics will be a problem. I have nothing to say for myself right now.
He’d probably give me a slap upside the head for thinking this, but I want to take some cues from Super Robertson. He sent me a couple new solo tracks a few days ago. The man’s spontaneity and productivity have always inspired me. With my recording time these days coming in short bursts, I need to adopt his methods. Before I can do that, I need to learn to play guitar well enough to get through an entire song without disaster striking. By the way, I’ll be distributing unauthorized two-song SR CD-Rs at the next Roadbed gig.
The belter and I went downtown on Sunday. Highlights included some gross people dry-humping in the video section of Chapters, learning about the “click factor” so carefully engineered by leading lipstick manufacturers, thumbing through an awesome Kiss book at Virgin, and picking up an Opeth 7-inch at Scratch (one new song from Damnation and one remake, both with a heavy Nick Drake vibe). I wanted to get the new Dirty Three album, too, but I can’t buy everything. I should just listen to Ocean Songs some more.
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