Duct Tape Version 2.0

I recently "finished" a demo for a song called duct tape and superglue. Actually a few people seperately said that this is a song they could hear in a movie soundtrack. It's an interesting thing to hear about a song. I've never thought "soundtrack" for my path to "success." oh and I really love using quotation marks today. Picture me making them with my fingers while raising my eyebrows.

Anyway, The thing is. The song has felt a bit sluggish to me...and a bit long. Despite hours of work, I made the decision to rerecord the song at 7 beats per minute faster. Actually at 6.001 bpm's faster. I know this is an oddly precise and illogical increase in tempo. who increases the speed of something by .001? Apparently, I do.

Yesterday I finished rerecording the lead vocal and I have to say that I am glad I decided to tackle redoing this track. It is going quickly and smoothly and soon to be done. I can't wait to share this song. It is truly a piece of my heart. appropriate to the title I took a few of the elements from the original version and taped them and glued them to this new version.

Duct Tape 2.0 or maybe it is version 1.0001

Yesterday

I made a big step yesterday and put down a deposit
to special order my new preamp.
It's a big chunk of money,
so hopefully the economy won't completely collapse just yet.
Now the hard part, waiting.
I'm not a very patient person by nature.

I added another item to the spreadsheet
detailing the plugins, microphones, pieces of equipment, new studio monitors, etc. that are going into the studio.
This one isn't as necessary as others, but rather exciting.

I use a program called reason to create beats, instrumental sounds, etc.
For Sunrise at the speakeasy we used two mellotron samples for Unplug and Mr. Carpentier, which I adore.

Propellerhead has just come out with an Abbey Road refill for reason, meaning additional samples for purchase which include keyboards, organs and yes mellotron. The instruments were recorded in Abbey Road studio with the equipment there. If you go to the instruments page and listen, you'll see why I'm so excited.

<check it out...especially the mellotron samples>

The song Yesterday by the Beatles was recorded in Abbey Road Studio.

After giving my life's savings to a music store, we met up with Carrie Thomas to eat nachos, drink and for her to give Konstantine the photos she took of him over the weekend. She got some really great shots. It was interesting to be there while she shot. K was nude half the time, with it all hanging out. My prudish midwestern upbringing made me feel that it was funny yet at the same time, he is so beautiful naked and it was just Carrie and didn't feel awkward at all. Over fourth of July weekend K and I ran naked through a soccerfield. We both felt so free. It's a good thing we didn't get arrested.

The Quiet Before The Storm

Some of you have commented on/noticed that I've been a little quiet lately, which is odd for someone with such a big mouth. I have been secretly plotting a little something and gathering together the elements to make it happen. That little something is the building of a recording studio in my apartment. It has been progressing in leaps and bounds.

There are two exciting things on the horizon, the announcement of the official release date for my second album, Sunrise at the Speakeasy and a series of bootleg tracks (demos) that I will begin sharing with you. Though I can't provide details right now, I can say that I am about to flood the world with a lot of music I've been keeping in my back pocket. I can't wait to share these things. If you have a request for a song that has been done live but never recorded or for a different version of a recorded song, let me know. I might be taking special requests if you ask nicely.

Taxi Fried Chicken, Fireworks, Ashes & Dust

Photo by Carrie Thomas

I am at my nature a juggler. I don't know that my form is enjoyable to watch. I don't have a fancy polka dot costume. None the less, I am constantly spinning plates on sticks while throwing fiery batons over my head.

The one thing I consistently drop in this constant juggling act, is adequate sleep. It is the first thing that is sacrificed for the greater good. Perhaps it is the reason for my sloppy form.

On Saturday I decided to fully embrace the world of slumber, sleeping into the early afternoon. Oddly the act of doing nothing makes me extremely hungry, so I decided to call up Mr. Carpentier for a bit of brunch. After brunch we went to the playground to swing on the swingsets of course, but the children were in full command. God forbid the children use the swings and deprive us of one of our few life pleasures. How selfish. We eventually did get to swing.

We were later joined by K and enjoyed a few beers. K had to rush to the city and Mr. C had to rush home to greet his visiting sister. My mind was fixated on fried chicken. They decided to share a cab and convinced me to go along for the ride with promises of friend chicken in my future. We were riding in the cab when we saw the heavenly lights of KFC in distance.

The next thing I know we are in a cab going through the KFC drivethrough. It was such a perfect ridiculous moment fit for my Hello Kitty Scented Diary. In case you have any curiousity, I ordered 6 legs extra Crispy. K was yelling at the crackly speaker. Of course they didn't understand him so they initially handed me wings and then finally gave me legs original recipe. I somehow managed to eat the legs despite the trauma.

K headed into the city and I hung out with Mr. C for a while watching a backlog of television shows he had DVR'd for us. Eventually, I left the warm bossom of Casa Carpentier and headed home.

I had ambitious plans of getting up super early to work on "Lullabye" which was to be recorded in the studio on Sunday. Instead I overslept, shoved free samples of pumpkin soup and crostini down my gullet as I wearily stumbled through an art fair that had set up camp on my block. I grabbed some coffee and trudged through the park. About halfway to the studio something started filling my head, a new song. By the time I got to the studio I had scrapped all plans of working on lullaby and began laying down the tracks for this mystery song that popped into my head. The working title is Ashes and Dust. It has a very spiritual quality to it and really sounds great and much more developed than such new songs generally do. I wasn't planning on giving birth while crossing the gowanus canal, but stranger things have happened.

After the studio, I headed to Mr Carpentier's for some more backlog of DVR'd television shows as I have been a delinquent social caller and he had been in Italy for a spell.

We were later joined by K and ordered Italian food. As soon as marc put down the phone there arose a clatter outside like none I've heard. I was sure that it was happening. The bombs were falling. Retribution had come. Our arrogant American asses were under attack. I started getting frantic until Marc said that it had to be fireworks. K was on my side saying the sound was too close and too loud to be fireworks. We did the smartest thing possible, which is to run outside and run toward the sound. It was indeed fireworks, being shot from a barge east of lower manhattan down by the seaport. The fireworks were amazing. I cannot properly describe them with words. It was the best fireworks show I've ever seen in my life, beautiful gold ripples and streams across the sky. There were blossoming flowers, starfish, willow trees. They were so close that it was like they were coming right at us and reflecting off the buildings of manhattan, the perfect backdrop. Why the hell were they shooting fireworks on October 14th? Is there some new holliday of which I'm unaware?

All I found on Wikipedia were the following, and none seem firework worthy.

* RC Saints - Pope Callistus I, Angadrisma
* Teachers' Day, or National Education Day in Poland
* French Republican Calendar - Navet (Turnip) Day, twenty-third day in the Month of Vendémiaire
* Chişinău's (Republic of Moldova's capital) - national holiday (known as "Hramul Oraşului" by locals).

Biscuits,Paddleboats and 2am Riots

Photo of the Prospect Park Boathouse by Carrie Thomas

K and I decided to host a brunch on Sunday at the apartment. Actually, I guess I coerced K into being my accomplice, but he didn't seem to mind.

As a tribute to the art of procrastination, we found ourselves at the local pathmark at 2am, waiting in line. I needed this cheese grater very badly, but when we were checking out, the girl couldn't find a code for it, so she refused to sell it to us. It was extraordinarily traumatic and at that point I was seeing double. After arguing with her, we left pathmark loaded up like pack mules, mutually exhausted, and lacking the much needed cheese grater.
We dropped to sleep exhausted and woke up too late, scurrying and hurrying to make ourselves and the apartment presentable for our guests.

Our feast was prepared in record time.
As, I tend to do with such things, I went a little overboard.
There was fruit salad, miniature fritata with mushroom,spinach, tomato and Gruyere Cheese. There were home fries,biscuits,bacon and sausage.

We ran around like headless chickens getting everything ready, but we both love the domestic bliss that comes with cooking up some love in the kitchen.

We had a lovely brunch with Steve, Matt, Marc and the lovely Danielle Flores who is gracing our city with her presence at the moment. I'm sure LA is a sad place without her, but we aren't complaining.

After brunch had ended we build a mountain of dirty plates in the kitchen and admired their grandeur before flooding them in suds to soak.

We decided to head over to the park and visit the Audubon center. Whilst crossing a bridge we noticed a lovely Hispanic family riding a paddle boat. We decided that we just simply must also ride a paddle boat. Despite standing feet away from the boathouse, we had no clue as to where we might rent said paddle boat, so we ran along the shore yelling at the family, trying to find out where they got their boat.

Seeing as the family only spoke Spanish, this was a fruitless task. I learned in the process that having a last name like Flores does not mean you necessarily know Spanish. What a disappointment. We finally discovered that we could rent a paddle boat at the boathouse, an idea that was too obvious to be fact.

We got our boat after waiting for an hour and traversed the waters of Prospect park. It was great to see the swan family that K and I have been watching for months. The babies have gotten so big.

I had a very intense discussion with a Canadian goose, which decided to swim along side us quacking at me while I quacked back. At one point, it was decided that I was upsetting the goose and should refrain from talking to it. With hesitation, I bid my feathered friend adieu and focused on my paddling.

after returning the paddle boat, I discovered that my legs had turned to jello and that the only solution was to drink a margarita. I'm not sure that it was the only solution, but I'm going to keep telling myself that it was necessary after slaving in the sun, paddling ms. Flores around like a goddess. All she needed was a parasol to make it a perfect day.

We hung out with Danielle and Laura for the rest of the evening, walking home after hanging in Park Slope. Walking by the park we passed an army of hundreds of NYPD officers lined up as if they were preparing for war. It was the West Indian Parade the next day. I had been told that things get crazy, but I had no idea. We went to bed thinking nothing of it.

At 2am, the sound of a marching band and drums came pounding through our windows. We stepped outside to see hundreds and hundreds of Caribbeans running through the streets screaming and waving flags from their respective islands. It was as if every single building and opened its doors and flooded the street with people. There was something beautiful and unsettling about it. We ran back inside and hid, not exactly sure if this was supposed to be happening, not exactly sure if the police were going to start beating people. We finally fell asleep to the sound of drums. I woke at 4am to hear a similar sound to the 2am commotion, but decided to ignore it. I woke again at 10:30 and made myself a quick breakfast of toast and jam before rushing out the door to be at the studio by 12.

I was surprised to see that the streets were calm and quiet as though nothing had happened. I walked to the subway with tribal drums in my head. Upon arriving to the studio I began to record a beat by hitting my stomach layered with hand claps. Something primal from the early morning energy had found its way to my soul.

Labor Day

I celebrated Labor Day by spending 6 hours in the studio working on Throw That Box.
It's still a little rough, but I'm excited about where this track is going. All the guitar is recorded. I did these hand claps and some stomach drumming and recorded the lead vocal as well as the backing vocals for one section.

Sunrise at the Speakeasy is nearing the halfway point.
It is of a grander scale, lusher and more textural than Sirens of Brooklyn.
I played tracks for my friend Danielle who is visiting from LA. She said that the album seems very Melancholy to her, yet more focused and deliberate,more self assured.
She is probably right.
It is darker and less timid.

Uncle Robert

It is official.
Jackson has entered the world.
I am an uncle.

I have been so stressed for the last couple of days for a few reasons.
One is that my sister was taking these hypnobirthing classes and hell bent and determined to give birth to a baby without drugs. I think they call this natural childbirth. I call this passing up the chance for some perfectly good pills. I kid. She called me upset and asked me to pray for the baby as his butt was where his head should be, a state of being with which I am all too well aquainted.

So today, I get the call that now the baby's feet are where his head should be and that the doctor has decided to do a c-section before things get out of hand. The baby was born. My sister is numb. All is well.

I went to get my hair cut at 5:30 with Tommy. Tommy is this oldschool punk/glam rocker who lived in the East Village when it was still scary to walk down the street at night and when people shot up heroin on the steps of the buildings where they were squating. I am devastated. Tommy told me that this would be the last time he cut my hair as he is moving to Portland. What will I do? He recommended me to someone named Raphael. That's too exotic for me. That sounds like a love affair that ends badly. I may just shave my head.

K has moved in with me. It's offically unofficial today. His apartment fell through, so I told him he could crash with me until he finds another place. I worry that he thinks he's an imposition. Does he not realize that I love him with all of my heart. He could never impose. He is my little bacon bit, afterall.

On Labor Day, I go back into the studio for a 6 hour session. I hope to have something with which to tickle your ears when I walk out.

Sunday=Mamma

photo by and of Carrie Thomas
On Sunday I went into the studio and worked on Mamma Don't Like No Chocolate.
I've posted the lyrics for this song, which is taking me to a very "Rock" place.

Most people categorized Sirens of Brooklyn as folk and although there will still be many elements of folk to this album, it seems to be going somewhere else. I will be back in the studio in a couple days working on some new songs.

I finished Cherry Falls and I'm not sure what to do with it.
A part of me wants to hold onto it and not release it on Sunrise, but there is another part of me that says I would be censoring myself. I find myself torn between raw emotion and palatability. I'm not sure which of these will win.

This brings me to an interesting thing that has been going on=a happier guitar version of This 2 shall pass and a calmer/slower version of Sirens of Brooklyn.
I am considering a project after sunrise that would be a reworking of songs from both Sirens and Sunrise along with some b-sides.

In tha' Funk (not the music)

Photo by Carrie Thomas

Something hit me last night. It is this feeling that comes in waves. I sometimes refer to it as existential angst. It sounds more productive that way, but I think some might label it as depression.

I feel like I am at a crossroads with my music.
I'm not really sure what it means right now.

I go back into the studio on Sunday where I hope to channel whatever I'm feeling. I promise the whole album will not be a downer, but there is a paralysis that covers it. I haven't decided if this is meant to be or if it needs an injection of gutteral wailing. I am torn between organic and pop sounds and I am lettting them both win.
I have contemplated this instrumental track made entirely from nature sounds. I became very inspired by a rooster while on tour in Ohio. I have been creating and writing songs that I may never release because I don't know that anyone can handle them but me.

One specifically called The Politically Incorrect Train Song (P.I.T.S.)


K worked late and then spent the night in Queens.
I felt a bit lonely without him, but I was tired enough that
I lost consciousness before I could pine too much.

On Wednesday night he crawled into bed, after opening the door
and giving me a tiny heart attack. I'm not used to people
opening my door in the middle of the night, even though I
told him to do so.

Sonic Experimentation

Though it is not a new concept, I have been playing around with recording guitar by playing it through an amplifier and then recording the output from the amp. I'm really liking this sound on the Glitters and Sparkles Demo. I'm not yet finished with the song, but it is moving along. I'm enjoying playing around with this track in my bedroom. I hope to take it in to the studio in the next couple of weeks, assuming it magically finishes writing itself in my sleep. :)

There are some new sounds to this album.
I am being pulled towards rock on a couple of tracks and to some sort of southern dixieland jazz on others.
There is a sort of gospel undertone on a few tracks.
There are lots of body sounds....hand claps, snaps, slapping my stomach as a drum, grunting. Just for you, I am going to the sweatlodge and really working it all out. haha

Some of the tracks I'm focusing on the most right now..

1. Glitters and Sparkles
2. 600 Miles
3. Duct Tape and Superglue
4. Mamma Don't Like No Chocolate
5. Life Was Simple
6. Pretty Decent Guy

There is also "Cherry Falls" which I think I may not put on the album, though I really do want to release it in some form in the next year.

Sunday

Sunday,
I rollerbladed over to the recording studio and did the final mix for the single version of Unplug + a bonus extended (Reach Out Mix).
I think You're all gonna love it. It's a little different than the stuff on Sirens of Brooklyn.

After the studio, I rollerbladed over to Mister Carpentier's to play the single for him, then hopped back onto my blades and traversed the Brooklyn Bridge, making my way to Union Square. Then I hopped on a train to Queens.

I spent the evening in Astoria working with the other Rob working on the music video, which btw is so close to being done that I can almost hear the cork popping on the bottle of champagne.

I can't wait to relese both of these little babies into the world.

70% Shot, 30% Done

I only have 2 hands, when I really need 20.
My nerves are about 70% shot. I am only one person trying to do the work of 10 people and not lose my mind. I feel lied to and cheated of my money. What little money I make goes back into my music. It is like a child that never stops crying to be fed. I am a sleepless parent, pacing with bloodshot eyes wondering when this baby will tire itself out and go to sleep. When will I tire myself out and fall asleep? Will I just suddenly collapse, the result of months without sleeping? I am restless. I am stretched thin. I am lonely and loveless. I am overwhelmed by the state of the world, the state of my room and the statements that dripple out of my mouth like inappropriate spittle.

I went into the studio this weekend and worked on two songs, Mr. Carpentier and Flapjacks.
Mr. Carpentier is very very close to being done. At this point, it is nit picking. Flapjacks still has a bit of work, but should be close to completion soon. I would say that the album is about 30% done.

In other news, my first music video will be filming in the next couple of weeks.

This album,this video, this world is bigger than me, and it may just crush me.

Shopping for Straight Jackets & Replacing her brain

Photo by the incomparable Carrie Thomas

Friday night

I did a benefit show in Hell's kitchen and premiered a new tune called "Flapjacks," which I have already begun recording for the new album. It is a 1940's-ish song about a troubled house husband. I went through a period where I used to scrub between the tiles with a toothbrush and hosted lots of dinner parties with multiple courses featuring elaborate dishes with exotic ingredients.
My wasabi twice baked potatoes are to die for, not to mention my creme brulee.

After the benefit, I went to a birthday party and somehow ended up spending half my time talking with a musician/porn star. He was very nice, but something made me keep thinking of a porn musical. Has it been done? Would Stephen Sondheim sign off on the film "Weenie Todd," the porn adaptation of his much beloved creation, Sweeney Todd? or perhaps, Rogers and Hammerstein's Oklahomo? I see a world of possibilities. Someone, take the ball and run with it.

Saturday

I spent part of the day shopping for straight jackets. Yes, I know there's a joke there. Let me explain. I am doing my first music video for the song Open Wide. I am very excited about the whole concept, which I will keep mostly quiet for now. I will only say that there is a straight jacket in the video. Will I be wearing it? You'll have to wait to find out.

The rest of Saturday was spent hanging out with Nathan and Dan watching Nickelodeon and then one of the Best/Worst Lifetime movies with none other than Rose McGowen. She is horribly brilliant. I especially loved her in Doom Generation.

I ended my day by replacing the hard drive on my laptop, which felt sort of like brain surgery. My poor little machine's brain died suddenly a couple of weeks ago. After much careful work, I am pleased to say that my computer is up and running again with a bigger faster hard drive. Yay!

Sunday

I went into the Studio on and worked on three songs
-Unplug
-Mama Don't Like No Chocolate
-Mr. Carpentier

I'm really pleased with where the new album is going.
After the studio I ate some boiled eggs and ran to a meeting to discuss the music video.

I am chugging along with a new hard drive,soon-to-be-purchased straight jacket and a soon-to-be-filmed music video.
Life is good.

3 trains of thought

There are times in which I want to lead a more glamorous life than I do, and when it comes down to it, I'm not incapable of being glamorous. It's just that the effort required to sparkle and shine like a new penny, is more than I am willing to muster.

The closest I got to glamour this weekend was being perched on top of a piano singing Tina Turner's Private Dancer, a song which is near and dear to my heart. My sister and I used to have this classic album on vinyl. We would sing at the top of our lungs into hairbrushes and dance around the house. Why my mother ever thought this was a good idea, I'll never know.

After the Kitt and Kaboodle show, I went out with my friend Jason and his hubby Simon. We found ourselves in a crowded bar full of attractive well groomed individuals, yet I was bored out of my mind. I found that all I really wanted was to be able to interact with my friends without having to endure the combined chattering of so many people. I guess also, when you're walking through the meat market and you don't have cold cuts on your shopping list, it all just looks so raw and unseasoned.


On Saturday went back into the studio for the first time since running the final mixes for sirens of Brooklyn. I recorded the first track for my next album, title still to be decided. The result was kind of peculiar and baeutiful. This track is very much rooted in the African Spritual with my mind glued to the rejection of technology. How contradictory to then write about it in a blog. Yes, I know, my first album hasn't even been released and I'm onto the next thing. This new project, which is floating around in my head will include some songs which aren't even written yet.

Some of my other songs have been giving me grief. I didn't allow them to be on Sirens and they're getting nervous about not making the cut this time. I have assured them that they will have their days in the sun. I may have to appease a few of the more nagging ones by letting them have their b-side glory on a possible EP. My lips are sealed though. I'm not going to say what's coming next. There are three trains of thought going on right now. It's almost impossible to say which will pull into the station first.

My Water Just Broke

I have finished recording the album!!!

I feel proud of myself having written, performed, produced, and financed every track on the album. It really does feel like a piece of me and an accomplishment.

There were times when I didn't know what to do with songs, whether to keep them, rework them, or scrap them altogether. There are songs that didn't make the album. Something like 20 tracks were recorded in various forms in the process. B-Sides?

What I found most interesting when going through the tracks was that 4 of them including the title track hadn't even been written when I started recording the album.

(Sirens of Brooklyn, Follow Me Home, Fishnet Sailor and Before You go)

It felt so strange running the final mixes, to be commiting to something so final. I don't ever really consider anything final. It can always be reworked, improved, expanded or condensed.

Next up...mastering and artwork....
I've chosen photos from a selection of shots taken by the very talented Carrie Thomas.

Graphic design is being done by the Joe Velasquez who I worked with on the website.

I've been warned of post-pardom depression. I must keep myself busy and tend to the baby when it comes.

Now, I can feel the contractions taking over my body like convulsions...back to giving birth.

Photo Credit- Carrie Thomas

The Burrito and the 'Well Formed Man'

There are people starving in China. I'm not sure who they are. I've never seen a picture with a face to attach to this starvation, but ever since I was a child I've been told that they exist. They are always a topic of conversation when there is still food on my plate but my stomach is stretched beyond capacity.

If I don't clean my plate by eating that last piece of chicken or 3 lonely green beans, then I have somehow failed as a human being and let these poor starving Chinese people down. I have often wished that there were a service to overnight my leftovers to china. It would make me feel much better about my wastefulness.

I bring this topic up, because there is a burrito in my fridge that taunts me like the tell tale heart. It is a half eaten shrimp and steak burrito that I keep meaning to eat and now I think it may be unsalvageable. If I throw it away, then I have admitted my failure and disgraced my honor. If I eat it, it could quite possibly make me hurl.
I am a wasteful American and I feel shame.

Last night I was back in the studio with David editing and rerecording some vocals for 'Well Formed Man'. This is quite possibly my most experimental work to date and has been a sort of painful process. The entire song is comprised of only vocals with multiple layers. It has seen multiple incarnations and I have scrapped so many different versions of it, but I have finally hit the home stretch and it is coming together splendidly. I think the final version for the album will be sorted out by next week, which is so exciting.


photo credit-Carrie Thomas

My Bloody Vinyl Time

As a child I was not a good team player.
Whenever we were assigned group projects, I would do all of the work on my own and then tell the members of the group what they needed to know for the presentation the next day.

I have become much more relaxed at my ripe old age, but I still feel on some level that if you want anything to get done, you have to do it yourself. I pride myself on the fact that I am involved with every aspect of my music; writing, playing, producing, and rolling up my sleeves and doing the dirty work.

Friday we had the assembly line going full throttle with the amazing *Censored* at the helm. So, if you received a copy of the limited edition Vinyl for Marlboro Man, then more than likely some part of the process of packaging that vinyl was done by little old me. Oh and I had an accident with a tape dispensor, so if I bled on your cardboard box I appologize as profusely as I bleed. I can truly say my blood, sweat, and tears went into this one. haha. Luckily I haven't lost any fingers yet.

Yesterday I went into the studio to do editing with David. Lately, I've become a nitpicker, focusing on the tiniest things now that the songs are entering into their final stages. I spent the most time focused on "Fishnet Sailor", which is sounding so technicolor. I also removed a vocal intro for "Follow", which I think makes it flow so much better. I never feel like a song is done. No matter what they are always works in progress. It's hard getting to that place where I can listen to something and not want to improve it.

Tomorrow I go back at it, nitpicking, that is.

Right now I'm in the process of writing a new song called "The Sirens of Brooklyn"...well at least for now that is its title...but I feel that this one is an emotional, troubled child, and might just change her name while I'm not looking.

The Finnish Wonder, Miss Helve, sent me an article about a Finnish band that is really shaking things up...haha. A picture is truly worth a thousand words.


photo credit-Carrie Thomas

Fear of Los Angeles

I think I may have an irrational fear of Los Angeles.
I've never wanted to go there, and yet I never really had a reason to loathe or fear the city of angels.

My only real theory is that it is my grandmother's fault. My grandmother was an okie, the people from Oklahoma who fled the dustbowl and ended up in California trying to find a better life, but basically spat on and treated like scum.(see Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath)

Maybe it's a deep resentment of California's treatment of my grandmother, passed down in my genetic makeup. Regardless, I have never been to Los Angeles and I have never had a desire to go.

Regardless of how I feel, I will touch down in Los Angeles on Monday and will not see my beloved New York again until Thursday night. I am keeping an open mind, and who knows I just might fall in love with LA.

Tomorrow I'm back in the recording studio reworking an old recording. I have a feeling that you're all going to pee your pants with glee when you hear the ear candy that will be coming your way. Alright, I'll just come out with it. It's the Walking song.

I'm told people look at you strange if you walk in L.A. I'm going to be driving a mini-van, so I'll be super hot driving through West Hollywood.

Is Faster and Harder Better?

I find that sometimes I become attached to songs after they have been recorded in a certain way at a certain speed. This week, I went into the studio to record a more uptempo version of a song. It sounds hot in its new form, but it will take me a while to get used to this flashier version. Is Faster and Harder better?

It's like a nun wearing sequined high heals. At first, it shocks you, but eventually, you say a few hail marys and settle into the idea.