Studio: Day Two

If you sit in silence and never speak, what stories will you leave for the young people to tell?
If you live shut away in a forest thicket, how can the sun of wisdom shine out?
No dried-up carcass can be the guardian of the Way.
Wind and frost bring sickness and early death.
Play with a clay ox in a field of stone and you’ll never see the harvest day!

Cold Mountain #53 by Han-shan

Laid down mad bass tracks using Joe’s homemade pedals. The guardians of the Way guided my hands through mistakes and missteps, and turned them into studio gold.

Things happen here. Compression. Distortion. Overtones. Today’s overtones were those of doom and salvation. Screaming guitars, growling bass, thundering drums. Cutting through the rock, pulverizing the stone. Here in this studio, we’re unearthing musical gems.

A day of challenges. Pushing each other to the limits. “Do this! it should be played this way!” let’s do it again. Repetition in the studio gives you that relaxed live feeling. Like you’re playing a set in your living room. I could live in a studio and do this all the time.

Joe Turse’s studio is the ultimate man cave. For musicians anyway. I’m sure, as Coors commercials have shown me, that some men prefer to build boats in their garage with their tools.

When we’re not rockin’, we’re relaxing on big couches or comfortable chairs and reading one of the books off the shelves. It’s an eclectic library. Science, eastern philosophy, poetry. I was going to read Slaughterhouse-Five, but I got caught up in the ancient Chinese poetry of Han-shan, and in a slang dictionary.

Raising the temperature of the room for the vocal recordings. Trying our best to get Breton warmed up. Tea, piano, jumping jacks. As much as we’re trying to polish the sound, we’re also trying to capture our live energy…in every track we record.

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