To my dearest bloggigogencia,
You'll be happy to know that the very same day in which I touched sharks and manta rays I also had a straight razer shave from a gentleman by the name of Moustache Jim (The Singing Barber). It's hard not to feel that every ancestor, every social pioneer, every freedom loving member of this whole damn species has been yearning and fighting for humans to have days like that one. So thanks guys.
We're practicing hard to play live for the nice people soon, because in the interim we've forgotten how. But don't fret. It will be soon enough, and James Julius "JJ" Jaronno has accrued (under mysterious circumstances) a working theremin! It is a magic box that sings when approaches, not unlike Moustache Jim.
see you soon.
We got back into Winnipeg yesterday and weather not unlike being in a warm dog's mouth rushed up to give us a big hug. You so look forward to summer until you realize that it frequently sports temperatures that make any physical motion unbearable. Which is why I'm actually reciting this to my servant Hugamuffins to transcribe for me.
Anyway, um, we're done our part of the album, like the writing, performing, arranging part of it. Now it's all up to a man whom we have come to trust very much to massage it into a fit, sinewy platter of face-melting pleasure butter and, golly gee, it seems the heat has taken a toll on my metaphors.
Now before we delve into hours and hours of mindnumbing practicing, let me quickly say something about this particular recording of this particular bunch of songs in case anyone's interested. In my professional and slightly biased (though not in the direction you may think) opinion, it feels like we made a pop-rock album. But not in a superficial sense, as sometimes it feels like pop-rock is actually neither. I humbly submit that this pops and rocks with simultaneous vigour, and if you're into those two vast, vast, vastily vast genres, you may like it. I do. I'm proud of us.
