I've never spent this much time in Los Angeles straight. One thing I like is that everyone knows directions to everywhere because walking is illegal. I also like that I get to see billboards of the movies no one will ever see. They're making a Curious George movie, I now know. That book was way too intense anyway.

So, today we started overdubbing and vocals. The meat and potatoes of the CD remain the live stuff, but the sour cream and chives are rather fun too. We tackled Balcony this afternoon and evening, which is a country-ish one with a melodica. I even got to play the banjo, which everyone loves. It's like the two dollar bill. I defy you to hate the two dollar bill. And hey, Peter just finished the vocals, so we're moving right along. Everyone's still motivated and I have yet to devolve into the mush-brained weirdo I can become after this much music. I guess we've got another couple weeks down here, so there's plenty of time for my noggin to fill with paste, but right now: a-okay.

We had dinner tonight with Mark from Music for Robots (linked over there. On your right). He's a fine chap and he took us to a place with Monte Cristos on the menu, which, in case you don't know, is the sandwich equivalent of a religious epiphany. It was strange being outside of the studio atmosphere. I felt like I left the quarantine. I think I have hives.

Oh yes. And Zach posted some new pictures below the last post. We decided to save some from Grand Master since scenery will become nice and monotonous for the next couple weeks. So enjoy. And keep leaving comments. We like comments.

A brief recap

So, we're here. Los Angeles. You can almost smell the Roscoe's on my breath. Which is probably bad, being as I ate it for breakfast yesterday. But, man, that was a good waffle. I may never brush my teeth again.

We arrived Thursday night, after a gloriously uneventful caravan down the 5, to our Producer/Engineer/Crock-Pot-Chef's house over by Colorado street. I'd give you a better idea of where we're at, but I can barely make it to the bus in morning, so be happy with "over by Colorado street." Not only was Brad willing to record our LP, but he was willing to slow-cook pork, potatoes, and zuchinis for our arrival. And let me tell you one thing: Falling. Off. The bone. Goddamn.

To bring everyone up to speed, we're going to be recording both here & at a famously funky studio near Aomeba called Grand Master. In fact, we go there tomorrow, (which is Sunday, right? I've lost track), spend a full three days recording amongst teak wood & red velvet, then finish the overdubs, vocals, melodicas, and dijeridoo solos back here at Brad's house. That's the plan, at least. So far, so good. But we haven't really started yet, so, hey, that was easy.

Basically, in the day and a half we've been here, we've recorded a few reels of weird, acoustic/banjo/cello versions of our softer songs, and some blown out, vocal-less electric takes of the tunes that don't lend themselves to the pluck-treatment. Janky-ness and blown out mics abound, but they sound really...I don't know...cozy. There are also some fabulous tones to be had from these overblown little amps, so they'll be making an appearance in a week or so. More later.

For now, it's early Saturday...well, it's almost one, but bear with me.,,and we're going to spend the day visiting Grand Master, cooking, and playing some more bizarre versions of the songs we know and love. So I'll wrap it up. I'm going to try & update this once daily, but right now I'm using dial-up, which is the digital equivalent of the Flintsone's foot-car, but it's getting the job done. When we sort out pictures, we'll post a few, which will hopefully be in the next day or so. I promise later versions of the blog to be filled with multimedia, witty repartee, and properly spelled words. Now, I'm going to go enjoy the rain we dragged with us from the City.