First comes depression. In that depression, you consider dead dogs. You consider dead friends, and family. You wonder if they were happy when they went or if they were just scraping by. You realize how little time you have to do something that’s important to you. The color of the sky weighs less on your mood. Wants become imperatives, and certain needs fall by the wayside. The small trips become big adventures. Everyone you meet becomes infinitely more important in your life. Songwriting becomes painful because getting it right matters. You practice, and you get better. You write about depressing things because not doing so would leave you feeling dishonest. The other path is to write bad fucking music.

Music doesn’t matter. Nobody cares about your band. There are no rules for this. We’re all figuring it out as we go, and trying to do it better each time. Be as rad as you can. Do as much as you can. Quit when you can’t do any better. Realize that, in some things, you have more past than future.

 

1. I Want To Go To There
2. Dad, You’re Embarrassing Me
3. Fists With Your Toes
4. Sinclair Is Hot
5. Meat Sweats
6. I Think Far Too Haltingly
7. To Wet To Walk Away
8. Dad, You’re Embarrassing Me (Alternate Version)