Port Sexy II

Yesterday Clinton and Alissa drove/walked around to some Madison venues to distribute press packages/demos in hopes of securing some local gigs, and they were kind enough to let me ride along. It was a pretty productive evening, at least compared to most of my recent evenings. We talked to a lot of nice people, and I bought an effects pedal for the keyboard from this cool guy at the guitar store next to the Harmony. While in the store, he read a little from a nine page letter he received from a crazy old musician...and I got to play a little on a Wurlitzer keyboard right in the front of the store. It was pretty awesome. Given enough time trying to find gigs and I'm sure we could tell a bunch of interesting stories, and maybe that will happen someday...but this post is about something different. We hung out on the pier at Port Sexy while waiting to go to the Pub (yes, the Pub. I know.) and inspiration struck.

I am proud to announce today (in preliminary form, yes...and without authorization of the other members of the band, true...but still.) the Common Swift Lake ____ Music Festival.

What is that, you say?

Well - one day, after we become wildly (moderately) successful, Common Swift will buy (steal) a lake house and christen it Port Sexy II (obviously). Then, at least one weekend/summer we will host 4-6 bands, some of their guests, and our friends for an awesomely awesome conglomeration of swimming, music, dancing and good food. The reason it is the 'Lake ____' festival is that we don't exactly know where it will happen at the moment.

Anyway, heads up - contact your favorite Swift to get your name on the list!

Consequences

A while ago, I wrote a post documenting the band's issue with our 'look.' While I don't want to revisit the days of plaid pants and decades-old soccer jerseys, I do think that readers should know that there were consequences of that post. In it, I asked for suggestions for our look. As of last count, we had received zero ideas from people not actually in the band. As such, we were left to our own devices - look where that got us.



















Clearly we need some guidance. Thanks a LOT, readers!

Common Swift and the Electric Mayhem

While I'm out wandering around Wisconsin digging holes in yards, finding golf balls by parks, and getting sunburned on 2/5 of my arms...well, my mind wanders. Today, it drifted off to the muppets. It wasn't a completely random jump - I was thinking yesterday that it would be great to live in Fraggle Rock, where you can dance your cares away and save your worries for another day. However, since we're not in Fraggle Rock, I actually do have to replace all of my car's brake pads, and I'm pretty sure that the dealership won't accept the Charleston as payment.

Today, though, I wasn't thinking about Doozers, or Sprocket, or car repairs. I was thinking - "if the band members were muppets, who would we be? OMG THERE'S A MUPPET BAND SWEET"

Which leads us to this - Muppet descriptions are courtesy of Wikipedia.

Dusty - Animal
Animal is "named for his wild behavior and drumming."
Parker - Zoot, if Zoot played piano.
Zoot is a "balding saxophone player...and generally a laid back fellow."
Me - Rowlf
Rowlf actually only played with the Mayhem in one episode. Sometimes it feels like I play with the band that rarely, because of the job. Ah well. Also, I'm brown, moderately fuzzy, and play the piano.
Strutt - Dr. Teeth, switching the keys for a guitar.
Dr. Teeth's first lines in The Muppet Movie: "Golden teeth and golden tones, welcome to my presence." I'm not sure why, since Strutt doesn't have gold teeth, but this is fitting.
Alissa - Janice, minus the guitar
Janice "was involved with Zoot in the first season of The Muppet Show, but paired up with Floyd Pepper at the start of season two." I'm not actually all that thrilled with this pairing, but Janice is the girl. She sometimes sings. Close enough for me. Also...Alissa? Parker? um...care to elaborate?
Clinton - Sgt. Floyd Pepper
Sgt. Floyd is the bass player. He is "the most cynical member of the band and perhaps of the entire cast; in several episodes, he observes his fellow Muppet Show performers' backstage antics and pratfalls with great amusement and is not above outright laughing at them." Also, he's involved with Janice, so there you go.

Codename: Sleeveless

Strutt made mention in his last post of the pictures I took to document the making of Common Swift's untitled EP. I had forgotten all about them. So, in lieu of a narrative documenting our weekend "on tour" in La Crosse, which I assure you is coming, enjoy these goofy-ass photos.

Strutt Jeff and Parker in our recording "command center." In order to keep the sound clean, each musician of the band was set up in a different room of the house and connected to the main mix via headphones. It certainly didn't seem natural, but it felt more natural than playing to a click track.

My rig, set up to record. We had four mics on the drums -- not by any means a professional studio's worth, but enough to mic the kick and the snare, and to get a stereo overhead mix.

I have been made fun of, in haiku form nonetheless, for being a huge wuss about how painful it is to be a drummer. But I submit to you photographic evidence of the BRUISE the gloves I was wearing left ALL THE WAY AROUND MY WRIST and UP THE HEEL AND PALM OF MY HANDS after eight hours behind the set. And know that anyone who saw it in person will attest it looked a lot worse in person. Painful though it was, it was still better than the BLISTERS drumming for eight hours would have left.

Fast forward several weeks later. It's 2:30 AM, the night before our first gig in La Crosse, and it's arts and crafts time to prepare 50 EPs to take on the road with us.

But the end product was fuckin' money.

Yes, each of our first 50 original EPs is hand-lettered and numbered. The numbering is because we're full of ourselves. The hand-lettering is because we're cheap. I think the fusion of the two is something pretty rock 'n' roll.

Covered in happiness.

Common Swift, the untitled EP, edition 00. Parker's printer ran out of ink while we were printing jackets, and the back came out in a blue-ish hue. It's a one of a kind original. The guys want to keep it. I want to sell it to someone random and see if it ever surfaces again.

Jeff's Story

I posted my tale of the La Crosse weekend here.

The pride and optimism generated by the gigs is slowly dissipating, turning into an anxious desire to play again.

That's okay with me.

Band Look

As we move as a band from a generally rehearsal-oriented/writing phase to performing more out in the open, we probably have to settle upon a ‘look.’ Here is a photo of us at our Cheese Days show:

As you can see, we have several style, uh, issues. Now, I'm no fashion "guru" - many, many people can attest to that. However.
Dusty is in a who-knows-how-old Monroe Rebels soccer jersey. We can be somewhat grateful for that - at least he’s wearing a shirt (not always the case at practice). Alissa is wearing plaid pants. I suppose that’s unique - I can’t really claim to have ever heard of a band frontman (frontwoman?) wearing plaid pants. Parker is wearing different shorts than he was ten minutes before the show, due to a button fail. I am wearing SWEET shorts with a sort-of hippie shirt* and a holstein-themed bandana.

*On that note, does anybody know where I could find another one of these shirts? I am a huge fan of it and it is sort-of getting worn thin. Let me know.

Strutt - I kinda think if you're the guitar player and general heart of the band, it doesn't matter WHAT you wear.
Clinton - If I remember correctly, Clinton was rockin' an awesome beard today. You know what they say about beards - they grow on you.

So. That was our look in September.Follow the link on Parker's post below to see a series of pictures taken at one of our semi-recent rehearsals.

Brief observations:
I’ve developed a goatee-like growth on my chin (it’s gone now), Dusty has kept the bandana, and Alissa has un-plaided her pants. Parker is wearing his pants.
Same old story for Strutt - guitarists are cool, no questions asked.
Clinton yet again is making me feel horribly inadequate about my 'facial hair.'

Basically, we probably need to find a cohesive “look” - any suggestions, superfans*?

*Does anybody read this but us? Jody? Katie? Bueller? Bueller?

Ideas in the comments, s’il vous plaît.

-Jf

Updates

Hello Swifts!

The last weekend was busy indeed. Here's a quick rundown of how we spent our time.

On Friday Clinton and Alyssa came over to the studio/our house and helped set up for recording with Brian and I. Actually Clinton Alyssa and Brian did most of the set up, I played a lot of FarCry2.

On Saturday the whole band, sans Alyssa, recorded for most of the day, and it went amazingly well. We didn't start an electrical fire, we didn't hate what we recordred, we didn't kill anybody, and most importantly we didn't record a single cover. By the end of the day we were all exhausted, or wrists and fingers swelled, and many of us had blisters. Plus I played a lot of FarCry2. The recordings we made on Saturday are pretty polished, and the set up we used for recording was a work of art on its own, incorporating four seperate rooms, including my bathroom. There are pictures too, which I'm sure will find their way to here.

On Sunday Brian Alyssa and I laid the vocals down. We have great takes of everything, and Clinton came over later in the day and we recorded the Flute and Oboe parts. Plus I played an absolute shit-ton of FarCry2, the game is just amazing! Brian has been mixing every since, and a rough cut should be done in a few days. I'm sure we'll post when the EP is ready to go, which shouldn't be too far from now.

Also, look out for show dates coming soon.

Here's a link to some pictures that Ian took at a practice of ours two weeks ago, enjoy!
http://s669.photobucket.com/albums/vv55/Parker3014/

Smokin' Hot

As a band, I'd have to say we're pretty lucky when it comes to our practice space. It's smallish, but it is in a house (as opposed to a basement, a rundown industrial warehouse or a cave...although a cave would be pretty cool in terms of rock 'n' roll aesthetics, but the accoustics would be terrible), it's in decent shape and we don't have to worry about pissing off the neighbors.

It's a far cry above our previous practice space, which was in fact in the basement of Clinton and my place over on Chandler Street. We literally had to deal with water spurting through cracks in the cement walls during practice once as a heavy downpour kicked up outside. It had us considering the "Drowned Rats" as a band name for a while, and probably wasn't too good for the thousands of dollars worth of equipment we left stored down there either.

But when we play in the practice *room* at Strutt and Parker's place, it gets noticeably warmer in that cramped room--probably in the neighborhood of 10 to 15 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. I like to think it has everything to do with the musical fury we're unleashing in that confined space, but in all reality, six bodies in a 144-square-foot area are going to heat it up, whether they're rocking out or playing Parcheesi.

Of course, as the drummer AND the progeny of a long line of sweaty German dudes, I tend to perspire the most out of everyone. Once we get warmed up, I'm basically at the aerobic equivalent of a jog for the duration of practice, which can last up to three hours. Add to that the climate control issue, and it's no surprise I can whip my shirt against the wall and have it stick after a heavy session behind the set.

Strutt and Parker don't appreciate that though.

I don't complain: it keeps me in shape, and I imagine with the heat and humidity I'm putting off, it's like being in a sauna for everyone else. But I'm a little worried about what's going to happen when summer rolls around.

You see, since we started playing in our practice space, the temperature outdoors has usually ranged between 55 degrees above zero and 40 degrees below zero. Simple heat transfer has kept our sauna from turning into an oven.

But summers in Wisco get hot, as we all know, and while the basement practice space was soggy, grimey, moldy, mildewy, vermin-ridden, crumbly, leaky, creepy and filled with empty boxes of cat litter from several tenants ago, it was always cool. Parker and Strutt don't have air conditioning, to my knowledge, and even if they do, I don't know of any Trane system that can keep up with our kind of fire.

Cracking the windows will certainly be an option, but that makes us all the more audible to the neighbors who, thus far, have not phoned us in for a noise complaint.

So in all likelihood, there will come a Sunday evening when we're practicing in a 95 degree heat wave with the windows closed, stoking the temp in that room to points on the thermometer that would liquify lesser musical acts. It will be a chance to prove our mettle as a band, or end up slumped face down onto our instruments, surrounded by our bandmates in a 12-by-12 room that will serve as our tomb for weeks to come until authorities finally find the corpses.

I'm hoping it doesn't come to that, but it would be a very rock 'n' roll way to die.

Orchestral Exploits

Recently I've had the pleasure of playing with the Beloit-Janesville Symphony Orchestra for its past two concerts. Both of those shows I've played the harp part on their keyboard, a Kurzweil K2500x. The first show was the silent film Wings, where we were playing as the 'soundtrack.' The second concert consisted of Strauss' tone poem Death and Transfiguration op. 24, Lalo's Cello Concerto in D Minor, featuring Jian Wang as cello soloist, and Dvorak's Symphony No. 7 op. 70. I, however, only needed (got?) to play the Strauss - and on Harp II, no less. This meant that the first 320 measures of my music were rests (~20 minutes of the 30 minute piece). Sweet deal.

At rehearsal on Friday night, several people had 'Team Cello' shirts on. How big of a dork do you have to be... If Margaret (the actual harpist) had wanted to make Team Harp hoodies I definitely would've. Still might.

Here we come to the real motivation behind this post. Pretend, if you will, that you're an attractive cellist. Now, let's say a cool keyboard player who needed to shave came up to you and said "Cello!" (Wow. Not as cool in print. Imagine it's like saying hello but with a ch- at the beginning). Is that a good line or what? Vote in the comments.

Now, I can't take credit for the line - my friend Dave Buss first mentioned it to me while talking about a good-looking music student at school. Here's the thing - I HAD A CHANCE - A GIFT-WRAPPED CHANCE - TO USE IT. The lead cellist for the first concert came up to me pre-show with a question about where to put instrument cases, coats, etc. and I didn't come through. She wasn't in the Strauss concert, and now leggy blonde is gone.

Some thoughts on drummer blisters

The old saying goes, "Life is hard for musicians, but for drummers, it's nearly impossible."

I certainly won't dispute it. We've got a tough lot in life. Drummers have more equipment than other members of a band, and it's bulkier, heavier and needs to be replaced more often than other instruments. We're the butt of just about every joke related to band life. We certainly sweat more in the course of a set, and there's little more noticeable than when we screw up.

I certainly won't complain about any of those issues, however, only pause to make note of them. Overall, it's pretty good to be a drummer, and I don't think there's an instrument (or set of them) I would rather play.

But I will complain, vocally, about drummer blisters. As you can see from the attached photo, I braved a particularly vicious one at tonight's practice, and based on prior experience, I can tell you this one won't be done healing before our next practice. I made sure to stop at the corner store and pick up some medical tape on the way home tonight to make so I'll be ready to wrap.

I won't lie: this blog post probably isn't for the squeamish.

The key to avoiding drummer blisters, DBs for short, is just to drum a lot and build up callouses. They form most frequently where the stick lays across the thumb-side of the forefinger, but also the side of the middle finger and the heel of the thumb where it presses the stick against the forefinger. Every time a drummer swings a stick, it rocks back and forth over the skin, softening it up. That tenderizing effect is exacerbated by the impact of the stick on the drum head, the shock of which travels up the stick in into the hands via the very tiny surface area that actually makes contact with the stick.

Once a drummer has built up good callouses, though, a long session of practice will generally just scuff up the surface of the skin, drying it out and making it flaky. DBs become something of a rarity.

When Common Swift first started coalescing a year ago, I found myself coping with some pretty frequent DBs because I hadn't drummed regularly for more than four years. Lately though, they've been few and far between, which is why I was so surprised at the nasty one I suffered tonight.

It may have been because Ian McNamara was at practice tonight to observe the band, shoot some photos of us in action and absorb some inspiration for some potential cover art, so I was playing a little more intensely than I usually do at practice. It could have something to do with the fact that we were in our third take of "Everyday SA," and we were pushing the tempo. It could be that I'm using a new brand of sticks that aren't so prone to shattering and spraying me with shrapnel.

Either way, we were in the middle of the second chorus when the index finger on my right hand got that familiar, gross feeling like it's wrapped in wet paper towel that's starting to fall apart and I knew I was going to have a nasty one to deal with.

Of course, the blisters don't hurt at first, and even after they start to smart, you can't stop the song -- or the set -- to deal with a blister. You just play through the pain and maybe try to reposition the stick in your hand to minimize the rubbing on the raw area. But that throws off your balance, your accuracy and your speed, so sometimes it's best to try and ignore it.

That's what I tried to do at first, but by the third chorus, the blister had popped, and an ear bud-sized chunk of my skin was started to stick to the drum stick, sliding back and forth against the deeper flesh and getting ready to sluff off the side of my hand.

I warned you this wasn't for the squeamish.

We finished the song, and I immediately dazzled my bandmates with the big, gross flap of skin that was hanging off my finger. My drummer callouses run about an inch along the side of my finger, and this blister had gouged about half of that off. We paused for five minutes, and I ran to the bathroom, yanked off the hanging skin and wrapped my finger in an improvised Kleenex and medical tape bandage.

Parker offered me some alcohol to throw on it, and I called him a sadist. I knew I had to disinfect it, but I had a better, slightly less painful method in mind.

You see, the best immediate treatment for a drummer blister is to fill up the sink with hot, soapy water and do the dishes, and I had a nice stack waiting for me at home anyway. I used a jack knife to cut the makeshift bandage off my finger, then put on some music so the neighbors wouldn't hear me cussing at the sting.

Now that's hardship!

Rehearsal - 2.28.09 (actually 3.1.09)

I thought I'd try and give a little bit of a glimpse into the goings-on at a Common Swift rehearsal. Rehearsal seems a bit of a formal term, right? Maybe practice is better, except if I say practice I think we should be running laps and taking grounders - as it turns out, some of us did run laps on Sunday. Practice it is.

So - a listified version of CS practice:

8-10: bottles of New Glarus Brewery Coffee Stout consumed

1: bottle of whiskey between Alissa and Clinton (note: not consumed, just physically sitting between those two)

1: IMDB break (although for the life of me, I can't remember why)

XIV: songs on Parker/Strutt's album they made in February

?: drumsticks Dusty went through (not sure, I think it might have only been 2)

1: drumstick Dusty "inadvertently" threw at me (or was this last week? not sure)

1: Doctor Horrible reference

many: jokes at drummer's expense

4,5,6,7,and 8: beats in our measures

full-length: my sleeves. Sorry, Strutt.


I suppose I should have been taking notes on Sunday so I could have given a fuller version of the list - perhaps the others can fill in/correct my errors...

on a closing, somewhat sadder note -

Personally, it was a pretty painful practice for me. I don't like to complain about things, and I certainly don't want to come across as whiny (or a wimp), but I was playing through an injury on Sunday. You know when there's a little cut between your fingernail and your actual finger, right at the tip? My right index finger had that going on all weekend, and MAN does it suck to play piano/keyboard with that happening. JEEZ.

-Jf

A Day in the Life of an Unemployed Bassist

I went ahead and decided to do a post about a day of my life to sort of give people an introduction into what it is like to be an unemployed bassist, as I have been for the last couple of months. So, I picked a day and went for it. Surprisingly, it turned out somewhat more interesting than I thought it would. Note: In picking a day, I felt it made the most sense to start when the day actually starts so I started the post at 12 AM.


12:00 AM, 02/23/09 – Watching Cowboy Bebop with girlfriend (Black Dog Serenade for all you Space Cowboys out there).

12:30 AM – Go to sleep after watching Cowboy Bebop with girlfriend.

8 something AM – Girlfriend gets up to go to class. I don’t notice.

10:49 AM – Wake up.

10:51 AM – Surf internets. Start writing this post.

11:30 AM – Get a call for a job offer. Hey hey, things are starting out good today. I’ll be starting a new job in a couple of days!

11:31 AM – Immediately go back to surfing the web, spending most of my time on Digg, Fark, and Reddit.

12:00 PM – Clean out and move my cat's litter box. I do this because the box is under the sink that the plumber who is coming in today needs to fix.

12:18 PM – Play Guitar Hero 3. Five Starred Knights of Cydonia by Muse on expert. Snap!

1:06 PM – I beat DragonForce’s Operation Ground and Pound on expert! Eat it whores!

1:07 PM – Hand hurts after playing that seven fucking minute song, move onto Call of Duty 4.

2:13 PM – Make lunch. Mmm… Hot dogs and a banana…

2:40 PM – The plumber shows up to fix my bathroom sink.

2:45 PM – The stop valves don’t work on the sink, so he will have to take it apart to fix it. This requires him to shut off the water to the whole building, since he can’t just shut off the water to my room as it is an old building. I secretly hope my neighbors are trying to take showers. Then the plumber says he needs to go pick up some parts to fix the sink, will be back in 20.

2:46 PM – Much to my dismay, he turns the water back on in the building before leaving.

3:11 PM – I decide to make the most of it by putting on some tea and continue writing this blog post. Still no plumber.

3:26 PM – Plumber returns with new part. I watch and help… by turning the water on and off for him…

3:43 PM – Plumber is still working on the sink. The stock market closes at its lowest level since 1997. Plumber is unimpressed by this news. I now start calling him “Joe” the Plumber. This does not impress him either.

4:00 PM – “Joe” has to go and get more parts as the stop valve was only half the problem. The washer on the inside of the hot water knob is also broken.

4:13 PM – A friend of mine shows up to play some Halo 3 and Call of Duty 4 at my apartment.

4:54 PM – “Joe” has fixed my sink. I am surprised and impressed. My friend and I decide that this is cause for celebration. We make a beer run to corner store down the street.

7:47 PM – Eat Dinner. Frozen pizza and High Life, the default diet for a bass player. Halo playing is resumed immediately after.

11:00 PM – Friend leaves because he has to work tomorrow. I keep playing CoD.

11:42 PM – I decide to practice a little bass and eat some Mandarin oranges.

12:00 AM – I take break from practicing to reflect on my day. I realized a few things: 1.) I never ate breakfast. 2.) I played approximately 8-9 hours of video games today. This impresses me. Gosu runs in my blood. 3.) It only took “Joe” about two hours to fix my sink (despite having to go for parts twice), and now it works perfectly. For an unlicensed plumber, he did a damn fine job.

Update 12:29 PM, 2/24/09: I just remembered something important I left out of my reflection...

4.) I got a job... somehow...

Is it common to fly so swiftly?

The wall was covered in a thick plaster that had cracked over time from the changing seasons. The building was old, although not so old as to be historic, merely rundown. Through the cracks in the plaster you could see brick and, occasionally, the old mortar of the wall. The swift clung to one such sliver of mortar, his stubby legs swaying slightly in the early morning wind.

The sun was only just rising and soon he would spread his wings, release his grasp on the wall, and tumble, accelerating rapidly as the ground rushed up, passing windows as he went, one, two, three, appearing to anyone looking out those windows like some kind of speeding silver slicked insanity, crazily falling to his certain death, until he would finally lift himself skyward. He always felt more comfortable in the air, where he spent most of his time, gliding on the current searching for any bug to feast upon, butterflies and beetles, with their sticky sweet juices.

It was not quite autumn yet, still several months until he had to begin his long journey to South Africa, him and his companions that is, their migration. For now he could enjoy the rising buildings and bustling streets of this temperate place, watching the trains race by in his fair weather home. Oh, how he wished he could stay here just a little while longer this time, just a little while, but alas different worlds won't overlap.

Finally, as the sun rose up from behind the buildings to the east the bird lifted itself up and flew skyward. He circled around the rooftops effortlessly riding the flow of air beneath him as he joined other birds, more and more as the seconds passed. The swirling mass glided together in an intricate dance, whiskey in their blood, weaving and twisting in a maze of wings. Their motions were chopping the air as they flew, slowly building a cacophony of sound. There they were, composing for the whole world to hear, these common swifts.

A Plea for Help

So, I had wanted my first post on the blog to read something like this:

FIIIRSTT WHOOOOOOo!!!!

Alas...this was not to be. So, here comes the anticlimactic second try.

A Plea for Help

At the latest band practice (2.15.09) something of moderate importance occurred. I have been burdened with the enormous duties of "Official Band Pun-master," and I must admit - I'm doubting my abilities already. I mean, really wondering if I'm up to the job - it's a pretty tall order...I was given the title after suggesting a song title for our concept album about a forest and all of its woodland glory*. Who wouldn't listen to a song about the Common Swift keys player named 'Fungi?'

*not actually planned.

So, band super-fans (who must be combing through the archives, if reading this - seing as how our readership at the moment consists of us), if you have any pun ideas, let me know and I'll subtly work them in at rehearsal.

Anyway, I've got to get back to freaking out about the symphony rehearsal in Beloit tonight.

-Jf

UPDATE: rehearsal was fine - shouldn't have been so worried. We'll see if the next concert is any worse.

Rocking Face Since 2008

As a means of popping this blog's cherry, a brief introduction. I'm Dusty, the drummer, or as the rest of the band refers to me, "the loud one." That much said, here's what I think. Loudly.

Common Swift is a band dedicated to the ideal that rock 'n' roll can simultaneously melt face and produce an irresistable urge to flail one's arms and legs about in a physical expression of its sheer awesomeness... or something like that. The band was founded in a leaky, moldy basement in Madison sometime in 2008 by guitar player Brian Strutt, Bassist Clinton Bader and me. We could play a soft jazz cover of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" all the way through -- Forty minutes of glory. It was pretty bitchin'.

As Alissa Stormont was kind of hanging around a lot for some reason, we got her to pick up a flute and play a few tunes with us. Then we put her up front and made her sing 'cuz she's a lot prettier than the rest of us. She hasn't forgiven us yet.

Jeff Ingebritsen and Parker Reynolds joined our ranks as keys players, vocalists and dancers extraordinaire not long after, and we became Common Swift. As members of the band, we are called "swifts" individually, but when our powers combine, we are Common Swift.

After playing a few shows for fun last autumn, we went underground to compose some more original tunes and work on a demo disk. That disk is now nearing completion, and the band is champing at the bit to get back in front of a live crowd. It's guaranteed to be epic.