Sharp Shooter

I'm almost convinced.

Deep in that darkest place inside me, where all of my most honest desires culminate into one thing, I am well prepared. In this world I am a survivalist, an expert and a stone cold killer. Currently I am none of these things. In the event I choose to forego a strenuous training regimen in anticipation and be swallowed by the writhing masses, let my tombstone read: "His only regret was not being the one to survive the zombie apocalypse."

And it was.

(Franks)x

A Problem

This eve has been a bust. Uninspired is the optimal word. All I can think about is The Flight and it has grown trite. The guitar track may be sounding better (it's hard to tell at this point), but I'm starting to believe that I have saturated my week with music so much that I am no longer interested. I'm sure the feeling will pass. What I need is a break.

New strings are unarguably glorious. Their crispness entice me into flashes of trance, toying with improvisational nonsense. Considerations of change roam the grassy knolls of my brain, feeding on the neurons and chewing on the cudd of electric charges. The more I think about it, the more I wish strings were eternally new.

To those of you would nay-say, you're wrong. I wish I was half the singer. I often wonder, what really goes into writing a song like this?

I've been building apholstering for the site. I'm hoping to make it a little more personal. Hopefully I'll be satisfied enough with something to add it soon.

Lately I've been wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I need something. I'm just not sure what it might be. Here's to things turning around. I look forward to it. On the plus side, we definately got some serious cleaning done tonight.

(Franks)x

Laborious Deeds

My time has recently been exclusively dedicated to three things. Work, sleep, music. Rewriting the guitar for The Flight is the next step in this project. Hopefully my ideas will come to fruition. God, this house needs to be cleaned . . .

I realize my shortcomings. Sometimes I revel in them in some sort of awkward and inhumane masochism. And in that realm I've never been a precise guitar player. I lie. I'm downright sloppy. Tightening up my playing is proving a much needed process and I wish I had realized that need previously. Regret is sometimes given the rare opportunity to be a beautiful thing. In this case I'm glad for it.

In other news, a side project is slowly taking shape behind the settling dust of Diablo/Desperado. In all it's ridiculousness, this new idea is creating some satisfying results for me. Vampires and dark unworldy creatures clammor in my mind.

More on that soon.

I crave more instruments. The former and later of which I am unabashed to say would complete me. I need want no more. Something only slightly different first, I think: I've never thought of guitars as sexual up to this point and I won't be starting now, but this is surely a sensual thing.

Tomorrow may be for nerding. The topic is questionable. We'll see how much I actually get done in the way of music.

I need a new audio host.

(Franks)x

The Flight

The first installment of the trilogy is complete. . . in a way. It's been 2 weeks in the making and I am still unsatisfied. And this is only a very rough recording. In any case, I'm elated to have completed something with tangible results.

The story of the devil come from hell to collect on a soul-contract signed by a dangerous gunslinger. The advisaries take turns chasing each other down before the final showdown begins. It's something improv and has been incredibly fun to write so far. Working on a project so different from my usual fare, I've had the chance to experiment with the vocals. I'm pleased with the results. The guitar needs work.

I must say; CuBase LE4 is the most frustraing software I've ever had the pleasure of struggling with. I experience entirely random audio distortion and error messages, forcing me to repeatedly shut down and reboot the program. I'm not impressed. I'm considering a switch to Audacity.

(Franks)x