"Obliterate the Etchings, too costly for repairs."
About a year has now passed since this musical project began. Our hours in Jesse's attic, nights in Rocco's living room (upstairs neighbor displeased), Afternoons in Nick's basement (with Ben attempting to thunder up a rumple of the bass) appear to be a story worth beginning.
Ben doesn't appreciate my sentence structure, and Conner (fresh off the plane from Cambodia, where they create this delightful food I refer to as "gheet buhfiend") is calling himself "first mate." To me, that sounds like a self imposed promotion from what his mentors on a small river in Talkeetna, Alaska would refer to as "deck hand." I dig that.
Rocco has been wrapping himself around the mixes for our upcoming release. Meanwhile, Buffalonians are wrapping their paper around the Fischer-Price toys he designs audio for during the week.
"Something in the Air......." and "Hibernate........" composed by Rocco Dellaneve and myself, respectively.
In light of this blog (a word which to me sounds like something heavy falling from somewhere dirty) I'd like to talk about our song "Hibernate." Maybe Rocco will want to drop heavy objects from dirty spots and discuss the other song- but we'll leave that up to him.
Yellow sac spiders, indigenous to New York State were really camping out and dropping from my ceiling. One of them bit my leg. I could see them dropping like a superhero on a thin web interrupting the calming night-glow of my screen-saver.
Sometimes what you need is about one extra day of sleep, inserted into your lifestyle from the hours of 4pm today, and well into (albeit unexpectedly) around 1-4pm the next day. A long nap, a physical demand. You sleep through alarms. You purchase the alarm clock powered by batteries, place it across the room (you will certainly walk to turn off the BELL.) Yet, you still walk toward the sound, turn it off- and resume your slumberous course.
There's more of that for another day.
We're putting together those songs in a stylish package for distribution. Shows are on the way.... they're stranded somewhere between our collective brains and reality.