Asbestos

So, we beginning recording in less than a week. We could’ve, arguably, started recording a few weeks ago but there have been unspoken bits and pieces that were bothering us. The past few weeks have been strange… apprehension and self-doubt…bizarre silence in rehearsal upon completing each song rehearsed…Joan Rivers taking a flaming sledgehammer to the lower spine.

It all came to a head this past weekend. We performed upstairs from a burlesque show…edgy hip-hop was ablaze and asses were being swiveled, pathetically, from side to side… J Edgar Hoover could be resurrected to perform a better burlesque…2 blocks from THE most depressing place in this country...small Asian women were selling booklets with pictures of massive buildings being destroyed on the cover…people from middle-America were taking in the aura, the asbestos…taking pictures of a hole in the earth to show their aunts and uncles back home…and actually purchasing these fucking books…it was the antithesis of everything this band would consider hell.

Prosthesis is beautiful...if we live vicariously through glitterati, we can forget about everything that seemed to be falling apart around, or seemed to matter, to us last November…nursery rhymes from 7-10 every evening…everything is absolutely fine…all fucking gaudy sequins, cheap suits, self-pity, self-importance, trash tele, and synthesizers…

The best way out is through…by Sunday, everything was sorted and we completed writing the album.
-title-